Yup, I'm updating today and not tomorrow because I'll be on a trip this weekend which means I won't have internet access. Hope you don't mind. ;)
...
Loki quietly closed the door behind him, but didn't return to his rooms just yet. Instead, he leaned with his back against the door, staring at the opposite wall. Anthony's words echoed in his head.
You're just as bad as them.
He clenched his fists and breathed in and out deeply, a hint of anger prickling in his chest. The man had been this irritating for the whole day, starting with... he frowned, trying to remember when it had begun. He had, of course, seen the way the mortal's face had fallen when he had said that he was not going to let him return to Midgard. But he had known that, hadn't he? Anthony was fully aware that he was a slave, he had said so himself later on. And Loki had given him what he needed, hadn't he? That and more, because he knew for a fact that some of the materials that were down in that room did not exist on Midgard.
Was it really that what had made Anthony so cranky? He couldn't really believe it. There had to be something else, right? It was not like the prospect of going 'home' had ever been open, and Anthony knew that.
Turning that thought over in his head, Loki realized how cruel it sounded. He didn't intend it to – no, Loki was not a cruel person. But he was... possessive. When it came to his belongings, he was like a wolf defending its puppies (at least that was how Fandral had put it in an extremely subtle innuendo on Fenrir). He was not giving them away – but he also defended them, even with his life if they were important enough.
He absently reminded himself that he shouldn't think of Anthony in that terms – after all, the mortal was just somebody, something, he had picked up out of curiosity and should be ready to drop just as fast. But the truth was that he was already so much more than that. Freyja had been faster to see that than Loki himself.
You're just as bad as them.
He breathed in and out slowly, feeling his magic react to his mood with small, glistening sparks dancing along his fingertips. He was nothing like those people. In no way he would let himself be compared to beings who had abused, branded, whipped and done Norns knew what else to Anthony. He was not like them. Not in the least. Even though he usually wasn't confronted with things like that because of his status as a prince, Loki knew how slaves were treated in Asgard. Sure, it was better than in many other realms, but it still was a far cry from how he acted around Anthony. He let the man call him by his name, for one. He had a room, clothes, his own name and a laboratory.
Sighing, he forced himself to relax his posture. He knew that Anthony was aware of how differently he was treated, just because Loki had the resources to do so. The accusation had been spoken while his mind was Norns knew where, and Loki probably read far too much into it, but still, he had to admit – hearing that had hurt. In some way that had caused him to snap at Anthony in the way he had done several times that day.
In his defence, he was currently plotting murder against a renowned ambassador of Vanaheim and although his scheme was perfect – nobody would be able to tell that there had been poison involved and there were no spells on the dress, meaning that Loki's magic was also safe from being traced back to him – it did put a certain strain on him. And again, it was something he did for Anthony – indirectly, he would admit that, but that Freyja had put him in lethal danger was nothing he would be able to forgive. This mortal was his, after all.
A small sound startled him out of his thoughts and Loki frowned, trying to determine its origin. There it was again, coming from the room behind him. A small part of him wanted to just open the door to find out what was happening, but the ever-dominant subtle, sneaky part caused him to turn around and rest his ear against the door so he could listen in on the stifled noises. It took him a while to realize that Anthony was crying and the knowledge made him want to enter the room all the more, but he had granted the mortal this time for himself, after all. If Anthony had wanted him there, then he would not have told him to leave. Loki didn't like to admit how much that thought stung.
You're just as bad as them.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to step back from the door and head back towards his own room, no matter how much he wanted to enter that room and shake some sense into his mortal (possibly after holding him close for a few minutes. Or before that. Or leave the shaking out and just holding him). He was not like those people. Not even remotely. And Anthony would see that eventually.