Commuovere: To stir, to touch, to move to tears.
"This has been a rather long overdue celebration, dearest," Thor says, wrapping an arm around Loki and looking out over the railing of the balcony at the soft waves lapping up on the beach a scant few feet from their hotel suite. "However, I would dare to say that it is a well deserved one. I can hardly remember what this is like, just the two of us, like this. Modi is constantly chattering away or demanding something for it to be quiet for too long."
Loki smiles, sips at a glass of champagne, feeling the bubbles tickle at his throat as he feels the cool salt breeze against his skin. He reaches up, laces his fingers with Thor's.
"Yes, it is very quiet," he agrees, but right as he says that, a bonfire lights up on the beach and casts flickering orange light around a group of revelers who begin to cheer and toast each other with red party cups held aloft. Loki laughs and snuggles into Thor's side as the wind picks up and sends showers of sparks from the flames cascading into the sand. "I spoke too soon, it seems."
Thor massages the small of Loki's back as they watch the people on the beach dance drunkenly around the flames.
"I love you," Loki says suddenly, and even though it is very dim, even though Thor can barely see five feet in front of him, he can make out the blush on Loki's face as he says this.
And because this is so unexpected, because Loki rarely - if ever - says his emotions explicitly, Thor just smiles and waits a few moments to allow the tears that have risen up behind his eyeballs to subside before leaning over to press a kiss to Loki's jaw.