Chapter 17
Loki smirked when the mortal turned away, all a-fluster. It still amazed him that a grown woman could be rendered so. She was very young in Asgardian terms, but for a mortal, she was well passed her youth. Thirty summers, maybe? Nonetheless, it was very entertaining. And somewhat...provocative.
His eyes discreetly ran the length of her body as she fumbled about in the fridge, wondering whether she had lain with many men. Before her husband, of course, for she had obviously loved him a great deal. Neither did he see her as the adulterous sort. She seemed too naïve for that.
"I see more than eggs," he pointed out when she finally stood up, arms laden with food.
She deposited her burden onto the nearest worktop. "I thought omelette, salad and crusty bread."
"An improvement," he nodded.
"And nearly all free-range," she declared proudly as she opened a cupboard and took out two plates.
"Free-range?"
"The eggs are from my own chickens and the salad from my own veggie garden."
"You like to garden?"
The thought pleased him. He had many happy memories of walking with his mother around her own garden. She loved...had loved...her rose garden in particular, and although she left the growing of fruit and vegetables to others, she preferred to tend the herbs.
April's face sobered. "The garden keeps me going." She forced a smile and shrugged. "Gives me a reason to get up in the morning."
"As well as books," he added lightly, not wanting her to fall back into melancholy.
She perked up again, nodding. "And books. They keep me going when the sun goes down."
And at night? Loki wondered. When the moon rose and the darkness weighed heavily? What kept her going then? He suspected the nights were the hardest for her. When she lay alone in a large empty bed.
He found himself dwelling upon this fact, though it vexed him, as she cracked several eggs into a bowl and began to whip them up.
"Can I be of some use?" he blurted in an attempt to distract himself.
Pouring the mixture into a shallow pan, she glanced back at him in surprise. "You want to help?"
"That is what I said," he snapped impatiently.
As the eggs began to hiss and bubble, she gestured towards the rest of the food items on the work top. "You could chop up the salad. There's a chopping board and knife over there." She pointed to the two plates she had placed beside the salad. "And then put it on the plates."
He nodded dispassionately as he rose from his chair and joined her at the worktop. "I am sure I can manage that," he returned, a touch sardonically.
Snatching up the knife he began to chop the tomatoes with gusto.
"Wow. You're quick."
He smirked. "My weapon of choice." He paused in his chopping to admire the knife. "This has a good blade."
He was met with silence and when he peered across at April, he noticed that she had paled a little.
"Should I be concerned?"she asked quietly.
He sighed his exasperation, resuming his chopping. "If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now."
"That really doesn't help."
"I have said, several times, that I will not harm you."
She concentrated back upon the omelette. "Yes, I know."
They cooked and prepared the remainder of the meal in silence, Loki finally returning to his chair, watching as April divided the omelette, added it to the salad he had aesthetically arranged, and slipped a plate in front of him. Collecting butter from the fridge and two small baguettes from a large wooden container labelled in huge lettering bread bin, she popped the butter on the table between them, and handed him a baguette. Putting down her own plate she eventually sat down opposite him.
"You are quite finished?"
April glared at him. "Eat."
He grinned but obeyed.
They also ate in silence, both hungrier than they realised. For a while the only sound was cutlery clinking against ceramic, birds chirping outside, and the ticking of the kitchen wall clock.
"For such simple fare that was surprisingly good," Loki complimented as he pushed away his empty plate, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms.
She gave him one of her small smiles. "Thank you."
He gestured to her own empty plate. "So, you do eat," he teased.
"Of course I do!" she retorted. "Not that it's any of your-" but before she could say another word she was interrupted by a shrill ringing coming from the living room.
She quickly stood up, her chair scraping noisily back across the tiled floor. "Telephone."
As she hurried from the kitchen he also heard, in a rather aggravated tone: "and I bet I know exactly who it is."
He didn't know whether to follow her or not, but curiosity always got the better of him.
When he returned to the living room she was standing by the dresser, a cordless telephone pressed against her ear.
"Hey, Sam.
Yes, I'm fine.
Yes, honestly.
You?
Good.
No, I haven't. Not yet.
You know why.
Please don't keep pressuring me. It doesn't help.
Yes, I know it would probably be good for me, but I just can't. Not yet.
Yes, I know you're only thinking about me. I appreciate that. You know I do.
Look, this really isn't a good time, I have company.
My sister."
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'll tell her you said hi.
I'll call you later in the week. Ok?
Yes, you too.
Bye.
April slammed down the telephone.
"Sister?" Loki asked incredulously.
April turned, dragging a hand through her hair. "What did you want me to say? That I've just had lunch with some psychotic man who suddenly appeared in my study?"
"I am not psychotic."
He shrugged, his eyes darkening with mischief. "A little...highly strung, perhaps."
He watched as she sat heavily down upon the sofa and folded her arms, disgruntled.
"Something vexes thee?" he smirked, claiming one of the armchairs.
"That was my agent."
Loki stiffened. "Agent?" He didn't like the sound of that. It made him think of SHIELD.
She eyed him curiously. "I'm guessing you won't know what an agent is."
"Enlighten me," he returned tensely.
"I'm a writer," she announced, and despite her irritation her face brightened a little. "At least, I wrote a book and it was published."
Loki relaxed a degree. "A scribe? That is no mean feat. You have my congratulations."
The smile returned. "Thanks. It was a challenge, I admit. A lot harder than I thought it would be."
"And...an agent is...?"
"It's the name of someone who deals with...well, negotiates. With the publishers. And sorts out all the PR stuff."
Loki had no idea what PR meant but he was simply relieved that it wasn't the kind of agent he was trying to avoid.
"And why the vexation?"
She sighed. "It's a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere."
She gave him a frosty look. "You don't know whether I'm going to let you stay or not yet."
Loki narrowed his eyes calculatingly. With a knowing smirk he opened out his hand and blew across it as if it held fairy dust.
The room began to fill with green swirling light.
Sneaking a look at April from the corner of his eye, he could see the wonder flood back into her face.
"More butterflies?" she whispered, instantly snared, yet Loki found himself equally mesmerised. By her enchanting smile as it widened with bated delight. By her beautiful eyes, as they sparkled with anticipation. By the way she leaned excitedly forward, utterly captivated. But it wasn't just the physical. It was her responses. Her awe. She made him feel...
Caught off guard by his emotions, he suddenly found it difficult to swallow.
He accepted that mortals would be easily impressed since they did not have magic in their world, but despite this, she made him feel...significant. That he had worth. That his magic was something to be marvelled and admired, not dismissed, scorned or ridiculed.
"Something better than butterflies," he promised in a low seductive tone, as eager to dazzle her as she was to be dazzled. "Something much better."
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