Written to: Here We Are - Patrick Park, crosspost from AO3
Kilig: The rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic.
Darcy wakes up to a banging on her door. She groans, flops over and yells at the person outside that she doesn't want to subscribe to any newspapers, and to go away. When the knocking starts up again, she wants to scream in frustration. With a glance at her alarm clock (well, it was half past ten, it was probably as good a time to get up as any), she grumbles as she sticks her feet into fluffy bunny slippers and shuffles across the apartment to answer the door.
She cracks open the door, draws back the chain. Much to her vast surprise, Helblindi is standing outside her door. Clearly he hadn't had to apply glamour before, but he actually looks fairly normal, with the exception of his blue-black hair and his deep violet lips.
When she opens the door, he looks up from where he is wearing a hole into the shoddy grey carpet with the toe of one of his black Converse. As his eyes meet hers, Darcy is suddenly conscious of how tall he is, how messy her hair probably is, all tangled and matted with sleep.
"Forgive me, Lady Darcy," he says shyly, and Darcy wonders what he has to be shy about. "I did not mean to wake you."
He holds out a brilliant, pale blue bunch of flowers, like none Darcy has ever seen before on Earth. She accepts them gratefully, burying her nose in them and letting the scent of ice and mint and cold fill her nose.
Darcy steps back, invites him in, and he folds his long, long legs underneath her round dining table.
She makes promises that she just needs a few minutes to get ready for whatever he has planned, before running off to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, and hugging a pillow to her chest as she tries to hold in her excitement.
After an eventful day at the zoo, holding hands and eating ice cream, Darcy sighs and stretches out on her bed, grinning stupidly up at the ceiling. Helblindi had told her that, unfortunately, he did have some royal duties to attend to (namely, seeing that Byleistr was getting along with Malekith while the Dark Elf stayed in Jotunheimr on some diplomatic mission), but that he would be back soon.
Darcy picks up her mobile and dials Loki, who picks up after a few rings. The two chat through shoddy connections and the distances of realms, until Loki excuses himself to go look after Modi.
She flops onto her back, smiling fit to burst, and turns her head to look at the vase of ice blue flowers on her nightstand.