AU! goddess! Darcy and human!Loki

Ageless eyes watch him, Loki is aware if not flattered. Darcy is sprawled in his bed, her whole form naked. Her skin is freezing against his blazing hot. His fingers gently brush her curly mane, letting the chill bite him. As it often happens after their passions had died down to embers, Loki finds himself contemplating their arrangement.

Lady Darcy is actually a goddess. Not metaphorically speaking either. She is a Norse deity whose age he barely manages to wrap his mind around. And she's in bed with him. Of all the men on Earth she chose him. He would count himself lucky, if only she was not so much trouble. Darcy was a ticking time bomb, a disaster just waiting to happen. She is the sort of woman who lies with ease and feels good about doing it and he is, in contrast, honest to the roots of his being. Falling for her is not something he wants to do but she leaves him little choice. But through the veil of deceit he can still feel a kind heart buried under years of silent pain. That part of him that thinks it can heal anything wants to fix her, so badly.

But Darcy does not want to be fixed. She wants to forget, she wants to have fun with this mortal who will disappear in the blink on an eye. He is no more than a second in her lifeline, one single star in her empty universe. Loki hates it sometimes, that she can be so distant when he slides deeper and deeper with no way to turn around. There are days when he wants to get up and leave, ask her to stop appearing out of nowhere and leave him alone. Darcy literally passes through the walls into his apartment and turns the whole place upside down. She does the same to his heart. Before her he was just a normal man. He wants it all back, his heart and his life, but Loki is quite sure Darcy would not give them up. What is hers she does not let go.

The man lets his head fall down on the pillow, her breath a frosty whisper against him. He does not have the power to deny her, he never did. One look from her and he is a willing victim. In the back of his mind he hears Natasha laugh at him. The Russian woman is one of the few who knows about Darcy, she is also the one who told him he was falling in love with the goddess. Tasha, Loki thinks, is amazing. Darcy does not share his opinion it seems because her fingers are digging into his side, blunt nails dragging painfully against him.

"You should really stay out of my head," Loki murmurs, eyes closing, "if you do not wish to hear my thoughts."

"You should not be thinking about another woman when you are with me," she replies with a hint of anger. "Next time I will not be this merciful."

"What makes you think there will be a next time?" he asks, not really interested in getting an answer. There is always a next time with her, but he has no idea for how long. "I may get tired."

"Don't be foolish, mortal. I am the one who decides when it ends," Darcy responds acidly. "The last time will be when I decide."

Loki shakes his head. She can leave him at any moment and he has no right to complain. "Right." These wounds and scars are best left hidden in that dark corner. "Than means you go when you wish to." He turns away from her embrace.

"I do not want to go," she confesses after a moment of silence. "I am not yet done with you."

Is this her way of telling him that she has grown fond of him? She is a liar after all, by her very nature; her words cannot be trusted. Loki feels her body slide against his like water. She burrows in his warmth, still icy as the blood that runs in her veins. Silence falls between them. He will ask her nothing and she will give nothing in return. This is the way it is for them.

The press on her lips to his shoulder is the only comfort.

Done.