ELEVEN
I know that I'm not perfect but I keep trying 'cause that's what I said I would do from the start.
I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave. Was it something I said or just my personality?
- "Perfect," Hedley
It was a late summer morning when Alana came into the kitchen, laden down with groceries. Loki had never eaten what he called "Midgardian fare" before, and he liked at least one different thing to try every night. Alana had just bought three types of unpronounceable vegetables and four different types of fruit, several shaped so strangely that she eyed it warily. As she heaved the bags on the counter, she thought she heard a distant melody. Dismissing it, she started restocking the fridge.
When she was done, the sound was still there. It was faint, but plaintive and longing. Where was it coming from?
She followed the sound through the house, finally stopping outside Loki's bedroom door. The music was coming from within. His door was ajar, and she cautiously peered in.
Loki was sitting at a piano, (where the hell did he get a piano?) and was playing, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. The music was beautiful, but she couldn't see any sheet music.
Loki's fingers stopped, and the music stopped too.
"You might as well come in, I know you're there," he said.
She stepped inside a bit sheepishly as he turned around to face her.
"That was beautiful," she said. "Who's it by?"
"No one of consequence."
"I didn't know you played."
"I don't. However, this instrument is similar enough to an Asgardian instrument, so I made do," he said, looking a bit defensive.
Alana smiled. "I played a violin once. It was awful. I almost punctured someone's eardrum, apparently."
Loki looked slightly apprehensive.
"How did you come to that conclusion?"
"He told me. And then he grabbed his violin back and told me not to play it again, because he wanted to keep his other one intact."
"How old were you?" Loki asked curiously.
"Sixteen." A faint smile ran across her face. "That was one of the good parts of my sixteenth year."
Her smile faded, and she changed the subject.
"Where'd you get the piano?"
"I found it in the attic."
Alana looked incredulous.
"A piano? How'd you get it down here?"
"It wasn't too hard. It came apart easily. Putting it back together was a bit harder, but…"
Alana held up her hands. "Whoa, whoa, wait a second. You disassembled and reassembled a piano?"
Loki raised his eyebrows. "Obviously."
"Are all gods trained in piano disassembling?"
Loki looked offended.
"Fine, fine. Keep playing, okay? I like it. Don't mind me."
She leaned against the door frame and motioned for him to keep playing.
Loki turned around, a faint smile on his face, and continued to play.
What Alana didn't know was that he had written the piece.