Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been a bit busy with finals and such. Luckily, this is my last week of school! Please enjoy.
Lucy rubbed her sweater-clad arms in an attempt to generate some heat. No matter how high she turned on the heat, the apartment still had a very curious chill. She suspected it might have been a draft from the old, yet beautifully crafted windows. She supposed it was just one of those winters that no matter how many layers you wore, you still froze to the bone.
Small, light snowflakes were falling all around New York, coating the dirty city with a pure, clean layer of snow. Lucy took advantage of the beautiful image before it would be ruined by the dirty feet and streets of New York.
Lucy took a step back from the easel and looked at the charming landscape she had created. There was nothing more lovely than a humble winter scene, with the sky burning from an austere grey to a soft, pleasant pink. She dotted a few more streaks of color and then soaked her brushes in the kitchen sink. She hated not having her studio, since she always managed to get paint all over the place.
Lucy scrubbed the paint off her hands and arms and swiped a loose hair from her face. She wiped her hands with a dishtowel and stood in the middle of her living room. In front of her stood four suitable paintings for the art showcase. The fifth, of Will, was yet to be finished. Although the painting itself was done, Lucy was toying with one addition – golden horns.
As of then, the painting was a simple portrait of a handsome man. Although beautifully painted, Lucy wondered if she needed an element of interest, a conversation starter. There was still something that was lacking in the painting.
With a nod of determination, Lucy plucked out a clean brush and mixed several shades of gold. With long, loping strokes, Lucy created two proud, swirling horns. Once again, she stepped back and smiled with satisfaction at her creation.
"Finally finished," Lucy whispered with satisfaction. Finally, her portrait of Will had been created. She found she liked it just as much as the original, and perhaps a bit more, since she had the real Will to work from. There was a stronger sense of attachment to the painting than ever before.
Lucy cleaned her brushes and dried them, then grabbed a scarf from her closet. She tossed the scarf around her neck, put on some boots, and grabbed two tickets to the art showcase along with a bouquet of flowers. Lucy tucked the tickets safely away in her pocket and hailed a taxi as she exited the apartment.
Loki slumped into the sofa and closed his tired eyes. The trip had been long and strenuous, yet fairly victorious. However, he had forgotten how exhausting it was to travel without the aid of the Bifrost. If it wasn't for his pig-headed, arrogant brother, it was still be in existence. Irregardless, He had achieved his goal of securing his army, which would wait patiently until his command.
Soon, he would wreak mayhem. It would be a simple task, really. He would infiltrate SHIELD, this time physically, and take what he so rightfully deserved – the Tesseract. While the organization spun like a top with confusion, spiraling out of control, Loki would summon Lucy and keep her from the bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Then his army would invade and destroy each and every one of those feeble Avengers that thought themselves fit to be called "heroes".
A man of iron, a timeless super soldier, a scientist who couldn't control his temper, a foolish woman, an archer, and his arrogant brother - he was almost disgraced that these were the only fools Midgard could summon to defend themselves.
And yet, the real powerful mortal was right in front of their eyes, roaming the city like a lost soul. Loki knew that if Lucy could develop her power, there would be no stopping her. How could you stop something that rendered you so scared for your life you cannot move an inch? How could you fight something that jars the most terrible memories in your little brain?
You can't – you can't fight externally what is, in the end, an internal battle. Every fear, every regret, every bit of sadness all raging inside you…the only thing you can use that weapon for is to end your own life.
Loki's head swam as he thought of Lucy's potential. He wondered if she could project such emotion without having to touch others. Such close battle would result in imminent failure and possibly Lucy's death.
And although he did not want to admit it, Loki didn't want Lucy to have to see such vulgarity, such violence so close. He wanted to keep her as pure as he could in such ordeals. There was no point in inflicting such stress on her, especially since she was an emotional mortal, due to her gift.
He had seen her project an aura before, when he had first seen her on Midgard. He was sure she could do it again if he guided her. He knew she could project such emotion like others would a force field, and protect herself at a distance. But that was for a later time. For now, he had to focus on gaining her devotion.
He sunk into the sofa and relaxed a bit. When he had gained back his strength, he would call for her.
Lucy set the flowers in the clear vase. She arranged them a bit until she got them to her liking. Then, she propped the ticket against the vase and sat down next to the hospital bed. She glanced around the gloomy room with the beige walls and the even beige-er furniture. The entire room reeked of depression and sterilization that it made Lucy gloomy.
Lucy was never really fond of hospitals. So, when she found out her brother would remain in a coma for some time, she moved him to a hospice. She thought it would be a little more home-y. The rooms she had been shown seemed pretty comfortable and easy on the eyes. But this room was rather dull and depressing.
But, it was what she could afford.
Lucy placed her hand over Max's and though of the happiest memory she could. She thought of his smile and the way his laugh could get an entire room giggling. She remembered the way he used to make those funny faces at her during church just to get her in trouble. She recalled how he would always save her the last gingersnap but always drank the milk. She held onto his hand until the room felt a bit lighter and then left with only a tender kiss on his forehead.
She walked out of the hospice with heavy legs. The gentle snowfall was turning into a straight on blizzard, the streets piling with inches of thick, cold, icy snow. Lucy tried to hail a taxi, but found none to be roaming the streets. Stranded, Lucy knew she only had one more option; walking.
Lucy began her trek and immediately regretted it. It wasn't too long of a walk, but she was freezing. She wrapped her arms around her thick winter sweater and pulled her scarf over her ears. The cold, harsh winter wind burned her lungs. She kept her head bowed to keep her breath from being taken from her. She clung to the ticket, her only motivation.
She walked the nine blocks slowly and arduously until she reached his apartment. She didn't even give a passing glance to her studio since she knew it would end in heartbreak. She then climbed the three floors and rang his buzzer. She clenched her jaw shut to stop her teeth from chattering.
As her hand left the buzzer, she felt her heart drop right into her stomach. Did Will expect her to kiss him when he greeted her? Was that the proper thing to do? Or perhaps that kiss was a circumstantial type of thing, and wasn't supposed to happen again…
Or maybe they were a "thing". A couple, two parts of a whole. Maybe he would kiss her and she was worrying for nothing.
The door opened within the minute, and Lucy felt her body heat up with nerves as she saw him. He looked quite comfortable in an electric blue button down shirt with a few buttons left undone and a pair of black slacks.
"Lucy! I wasn't expecting you, come on in," he welcomed. Lucy shook her head and held out the soggy ticket.
"I just wanted to drop this off. It's an invitation to an art showcase I was invited to present at," Lucy told him in a pained voice.
"Lucy darling, you're soaking wet and freezing. Come inside," Will ordered as he wrapped an arm around her slumped shoulders. "Sit right here and let me get you some dry clothes," Will said with hurried voice.
Lucy felt the warmth of the fireplace roll off her face. She felt her body sink into the warm sofa. Slowly, she felt herself resting her head against a throw pillow. She watched the flames dance around and listened to the crackling of the flames. She was so tired and so cold she let herself begin to drift.
She wasn't sure how long it was, but she heard Will whisper in her ear. Slowly, she felt the cold sweater that stuck to her skin being lightly pulled over head. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps from the sudden change, but were soon soothed when she felt another sweater being pulled over her. Next, her pants were tugged off and replaced with a warmer, drier pair.
She was so tired she didn't fully process it was Will who had been changing her. If she had been a bit more coherent, she would have been so painfully embarrassed she would never look at Will again.
Loki propped Lucy up a bit, trying to wake her, but to no avail. Within minutes, she had collapsed on the couch. He shook his head and smirked at how odd she could be. He placed the dry clothes next to her and took the wet invitation from her clutched hands.
"Lucy dear, wake up," he whispered. Her face flickered a bit, but she remained asleep. Loki sighed and laid her back down on the couch. He placed a pillow under her head and moved her soaked hair to the side. Slowly, he peeled back the sweater from her skin, exposing her torso. Loki tossed the wet sweater on the floor and took in her small, curvy body. She was even smaller without the bulky clothes she seemed to have an affinity for. He smiled at the curve of her hips and the shape of her chest. He ran a finger over her collarbone and touched the soft, silky material of her brassiere, which seemed to be rather dry. Carefully, he pulled a dry sweater over her head and covered her torso. He then slowly peeled back the thick pair of tights and replaced them with soft, dry pants.
Loki magicked a warm, woolen blanket and draped it over her small, shaking body. He slipped right between her and the back of the sofa and wrapped his arms around her to stop her tremors. She nestled closer, her head fitting perfectly underneath his chin. He felt her body warming, but remained where he was to avoid waking her.
He propped his head on his hand and looked over her while she slept and looked at her calm, placid face. He had grown accustomed to her curved nose and her light freckles. He found himself vying for her pink lips and her loving smile. He wished to see her dark, sparkling eyes.
Yes, he was attached to her. But he found it may not be entirely terrible to be fond of her. It seemed the more affection he felt, the more readily she was to submit to him. She had submitted the minute he had said a genuine thing, without much hesitation.
Loki would never understand mortals.
He remained still, lying right next to her for the rest of the night. He did not sleep while the moon was out. He was intrigued by the way she murmured in her sleep, like a small child. He liked to watch her chest rise and fall in a particular pattern. He took a bit of satisfaction when she tossed and turned, always ending up close to him. He enjoyed feeling her small form against his and thought it would be nice to stay like this a while.
As the sun began to rise, he felt himself beginning to lull. He was still exhausted from his trip and decided to rest his head on the pillow. The rhythmic beating of Lucy's timid little heart ticked like a metronome, and Loki felt his eyes close slowly. The last thing he heard was the little beats of her heart.
Lucy's eyes slowly opened. She rubbed her tired eyes and blinked into focus. She immediately realized the fireplace, the white, immaculate walls, and the beautiful red carpet.
Her heart plummeted as she realized she was not home in her uncomfortable narrow bed. She looked down at the clothes she didn't recognized and then turned her head.
And there he was, sleeping right next to her, his body right up against hers. Lucy didn't move a single inch, her mind racing. How did she end up in his apartment again? And why were they asleep on the couch?
Slowly, her memory returned to her. She had shown up at his door with an invitation, soaking wet and cold. He had welcomed her in, sat her down, changed her…
Changed her!
Lucy's entire face burned with complete and utter embarrassment. He had seen her naked-
Lucy pressed her hand against her chest and relief flooded her entire body. Her bra was still on.
Okay, so he had seen her half naked. But still, she felt the feeling of mortification wash over her. He had probably been with beautiful women all with skinny, fit bodies. And she was some short, squat girl with big hips. He probably thought she was downright unattractive.
She felt his body shift a little and she clamped her eyes shut, pretending to sleep once again. She felt the couch shift and his body part from hers. Slowly, she felt him get up from the couch. Her back grew cold at the emptiness.
She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but remained still. He gave her a gentle shake, but she was too nervous to open her eyes. He kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Lucy darling, wake up," he whispered in his deep, velvety voice. Lucy slowly opened her eyes, just as she had before, and found Will to be crouched by her side.
His hair was a bit of a mess, but she found she liked it that way. His shirt was still unbuttoned and his slacks were a bit wrinkled. She noticed his eyes were a bit red and sleepy, but still a brilliant shade of green. He gentle rubbed her arm a bit as Lucy continued to wake up. She liked the feeling of him being next to her, waking her up. She felt safe, secure that he had been sleeping right next to her all night, keeping away anything that may harm her, protecting her. Lucy felt a yawn slip from her mouth and Will chuckled at the face she had made.
"Glad to see you're awake, little bird. You scared me terribly last night," he told her. Lucy sat up and tucked a hair away from her face.
"I didn't mean to be a burden," she apologized. "I'll be going now," she told him as she pulled the blanket off her legs. Will placed his hand over hers and stopped her from moving.
"You're never a burden to me, Lucy."