Chapter Seven - In which Loki Laufeyson is reminded of what jealousy feels like.

Loki of Asgard was up at four o'clock sharp, too exhausted and with his mind too restless to sleep. After another hour of unblinkingly staring at the ceiling, he sighed through his nose, rose and made his way to the bathroom.

He had showered four times in the space of seven hours, and was going to do it a fifth. Hot water felt so incredibly good over his sore, sticky back and skin that he let a sigh of pleasure escape him as he simply stood, dripping, the hot water hissing over him.

Henrietta was woken up to the sound of her hair dryer whooshing so bizarrely and loudly she got up to her window and checked whether it wasn't a broken siren of some sort blaring outside. Upon confirming it wasn't, she pulled on a dressing gown and stumbled out of bed, making her way to his room.

"What on earth are you doing?"

He was standing in something that must have been her uncle's long, black dressing gown, scrutinising the hairdryer through narrowed eyes, his black hair wet and dripping.

How does this contraption work? She received from him.

Hattie rubbed her eyes with a sigh and glanced at the clock.

"Loki Odinson of Asgard, it is quarter past four in the morning."

Well done. You have a sharp mind, don't you?

She gave a groan, then started forwards, plugging the hairdryer in properly and turning it on. She directed it straight at his face, causing him to cover his mouth and stumble, snorting.

"That's for waking me up so early." She snapped. "Yes, I know you said morning. But in this world, the acceptable hour for leaving the house is nine!"

Then we have plenty of time.

He grabbed the hairdryer from her, then sat down on the chair with a sigh through his nose and began blowing his hair dry.

Henrietta made a short trip to the shower herself and managed to be back in less than ten minutes - not a second too late, for his hands had started to shake and his eyes were becoming bloodshot.

"You're not ready to go out." She snatched it from him as he slumped against the backrest heavily. "We should postpone this."

Do so, and face the consequences. I am not existing another second without proper clothes.

She shook her head silently, then started to dry her own hair.

"We cannot go out now - none of the shops are open!" She called over the roar of the dryer. "You're going to have to wait until eight o'clock."

He rolled his eyes, then stood and went to stand at the window, leaning against the wall.

She watched him from beneath her long, black hair, trying to understand him. Once it was reasonably dry, she put the machine away and left to dress. When she got back, he was looking around the bedroom, leafing through her books with his eyebrows raised in contempt.

Romance. Is that really all you have?

She sighed and took the book from him, putting it away on the shelf.

"Romance is beautiful and does not need to be scrutinised by somebody like you. And no, the fantasy and historical section's downstairs." She said sharply, putting all of the other ones he leafed through back on the shelf.

He huffed, moving to the other shelves.

None of it is accurate, anyway.

"Ha. As if you know."

He shot her a glance, mockingly. She did not need to read his thoughts to know what he meant, and she went red.

"I know more about it than you do. I'm a woman with feelings, Loki, god of lies."

He did not offer her a reply, but turned and left the room. She put the other books back on the shelf, straightened the flower vases, still red, then went downstairs to eat.

He did not come downstairs until it was exactly eight o'clock. She was in the middle of watching Pride and Prejudice for the second time this year, curled up, clutching at a blanket when Loki came into the room, all in black but barefoot. He took a fleeting look at the screen, on which Mr. Darcy was planting kisses on Lizzie's face, then rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"This is for you." She pointed at the wall, on which leaned her uncle's old cane he sometimes used. "That's my condition for leaving the house with you."

He looked at the cane in disgust.

Absolutely not.

Hattie picked up the remote and switched off the TV, turning to look at him.

"Please take it. Just for safety."

She remembered the book about difficult men she had read and sighed, looking away.

"It would make me feel a lot better."

Loki of Asgard studied her face, then sat down next to her, resigned. She was trying to fein an unconcerned manner best she could, which made him warm towards her a little. Women who wore their hearts on their sleeve and tried to act tough was a notion he had picked up whilst studying books, and it was always a prospect that made his old self chuckle.

He couldn't wait for the moment in which his mouth was finally unpicked. A lost - or misplaced - fragment of his old self was calling. He would have so much fun with her.

Hattie watched him as sat, looked her in the eyes and shook her head.

"Very well." She sighed. "But if something happens, it's not my fault. Ah. And wear a scarf around your face - those stitches will cause trouble."

They were in town just as all the shops had begun to open. Loki was a little jumpy, his eyes flickering at the people that had a similar idea to them. He eyed the modern shops with ripped jeans on display in disgust, rejecting Primark, Next, New Look, only stopping to eye the rent-a-suit shop appreciatively. They wandered around for half an hour, but still, he wasn't happy with anything he found.

"Why don't we try the charity shops?" She suggested, as they passed one. "They sometimes have old-fashioned items that have never been worn."

After much persuading, Loki agreed to take a look. That was before they came across a Dior store with long, black, sweeping coats to the ankles and silk suits meant for wearing when attending a very expensive party on display. He raised his eyebrows.

Those don't look half bad.

"If you can afford them." She raised her own eyebrows, looking at the price tags.

The second my mouth is finally open, you'll get all the money back I borrowed off you. More.

She stood stock still as he waltzed into the store with his hands behind his back, her eyebrows furrowing.

"What do you mean, I'll get back the money you borrowed off me? Did you search my house?!"

He cast a sly glance at her over his shoulder, making her imagine a smirk on his pale face.

She threw her hands out in exasperation and stomped off angrily after him, glaring at the woman at the till who was eyeing him appreciatively.

He swept off to the changing rooms as soon as he had bought them, not looking at her once and once he came back, Hattie looked away, for her cheeks had begun to grow rather hot.

Loki, the fallen Prince of Asgard, reminded her of the man she remembered. He wore a long, black coat to his ankles that fitted him perfectly, an earthy green suit with golden buttons and chains and tight, black, leather boots that reached his knees. The red scarf that was hiding his face gave him a mysterious air and his tired, cold eyes made all passengers wonder who he was. He looked truly like a royal.

Well?

He stopped, gesturing with his palms, raising his eyebrows.

Isn't this so much better?

"For you, maybe." She said, peeking at him, making a nearby employee jump, for it looked to him as though she was talking to herself. "For me, it will only cause trouble."

Loki's eyes creased up in a smirk. He reached her, took her hand theatrically and brushed it against his mangled lips, chuckling.

You called me that, once, remember? Trouble. He let go of her hand. How times have changed.

Hattie pulled her hand away and swept away, angry at herself for receiving pleasure from his touch. She knew he was toying with her, and she did not like it one jot.

Loki had managed to forget the satisfaction of well fitted garments and the surge of energy that came with it. Now, with the clothes he obtained, some of his pride had returned, putting a spring in his step and almost causing him to hum to himself.

It helped immensely that he was in the company of Henrietta Knott, a beautiful lady - he enjoyed his little games he was playing with her. Loki chuckled as she pulled out of his grasp and stormed off, disappearing quickly and easily into a spacious store that sold old things.

He took his time finding her, and when he finally did, she was staring at a painting hanging on the wall, looking as though she was far away. He stood beside her, ignoring a giggling group of young women that were flashing their teeth behind their hands, and looked at what she was looking at.

What is it?

She wasn't reading his thoughts, so she did not answer him. Loki looked at the painting closely. It was a boy with a kite, but he wasn't running with it. The toy was lying rather sadly at his side, while he stared off into the distance longingly, at the mist shrouding the hills and moors.

Loki glanced down - she had taken hold of his sleeve for a moment.

"This is you." She murmured, running her finger along the outline of the boy.

He didn't know what to say, gently tugging his sleeve out of her fingers. His urge to play with her deflated as he skimmed over the picture. This kite wasn't going to be flying anytime soon; his wasn't going to be flying ever again.

His mood ruined, he turned and began to drift away, the glances he received from people slowly getting on his nerves.

Hattie tore her gaze away from the painting and followed him. She didn't have to sprint to catch up - he was drifting rather than sweeping, a crease between his brows.

"Wait for me, please." She said, "Where are you going?"

Wherever.

"Home?"

He slowed down and chuckled emptily.

What a word. It tastes bad.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She was. It was tactless of her to say so. She was considering taking his arm and steering them both back to their uncle's house when someone tapped on her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me."

Both of them turned. The crease between Loki's brows deepened. It was a young man with curly brown hair, sincere, brown eyes and he was dressed in a casual suit.

"I beg your pardon..." He said, smiling. "...But I'd thought I'd say hello."

Hattie gave a sudden gasp of recognition.

"Why, hello there! What are you doing here?" She cried, smiling widely. "I thought you had gone to university!"

The young man took her hand and planted a kiss upon it. Loki's sneer deepened beneath his scarf - the fool had no idea how to perform a courtly greeting to a lady. That move was clumsy and not practised well. He glanced at Hattie, thinking she'd be able to notice it and laugh at him, but to his surprise she was pink!

"I'm back. I graduated about a month ago." He said. "It's nice to see you again."

He glanced at Loki and offered him a hand, even though he was looking quite hostile.

"Oh, this is Andrew, Loki." She said, looking between them. "My old school friend. Andrew, this is Loki."

Loki glanced down at the hand he was being offered, unsure what to do with it. This uncertainty made him more bitter than he should have been.

"Hands aren't shaken where Loki comes from." She explained to Andrew, who withdrew it apologetically. "Please don't be offended."

"I'm far from it." Andrew said with a smile in her direction. "Interesting name. Are you two… busy?"

Yes, we are. Goodbye.

But Hattie was either too engrossed in this ninny to read his thoughts, or ignored him.

"No, although we are returning home at the moment. It's such a pleasure coming across you, truly."

"Likewise… although I fear it may not happen again." He said, bowing his head. "I know you are old fashioned, Hattie, but… Would you consider giving me your number?"

Loki clenched his fist. The gleam in Hattie's eye, however, faded a little as she looked down at the floor.

"Andrew…"

"Please." He almost whispered. "I remember what you told me, four years ago. Let me prove you wrong, this time - I am not the dunderhead I was, now that I am educated."

She laughed at those words.

"You're not going to get anywhere." She muttered, as he handed her his phone. "I'm being serious, Andrew, don't grin so."

Andrew was far from taking her advice. He took his phone back once she was finished and slid it safely into the pocket of his blazer, beaming.

"I may prove you wrong."

"You won't." She murmured, folding her arms around herself. "Well, until next we meet."

Andrew kissed her hand again, offered his hand to Loki, then withdrew it and bowed his head instead.

"Could you be any ruder?" She raised her eyebrows, after Andrew had disappeared.

Loki turned on his heel neatly and stormed off, even though his breath had become rather short and his arms were beginning to disobey him again. So badly, in fact, that he had to lean against a bench for a moment to regain his breath.

Knottie caught up with him while he clutched it with both hands and took him under the arm, boldly.

"This is exactly what I meant. You have your clothes, now let's go home."

Spare it, he thought, I know what I'm doing.

"I know you do." She murmured. "It's just the fact that you're so stubborn, you won't listen to your own reason. Where's the man I knew who always knew better?"

He pulled away from her, baulking, his hands trembling - though not from weakness.

If you find him, let me know.

They reached Uncle Haldanson's house without another word. Loki disappeared into the spare bedroom and shut the door behind him with force, leaving Hattie clenching her fist and jaw.

After a few hours of bitterness and silence, she knocked on his door and pushed it open.

He was lying on the bed with his legs folded over, his shoes still on. She wanted to comment, but bit it back. The red scarf was discarded on the floor by the window, obviously thrown in a sudden temper.

"Loki of Asgard. Let's make amends." She cut to the chase, even though she felt far from guilty.

He didn't move, staring at the ceiling. She felt her temper flare.

"What is your problem?" She hissed, gesturing with her hands. "I haven't done anything that can excuse your behaviour!"

Her phone dinged at that exact moment, and she knew who it would be. Loki shot her a suggestive look.

You should return the message. It would be rude to keep your admirer waiting.

She straightened, looking down her nose at him.

"So that's it. You're jealous, Loki of Asgard."

He sent her an incredulous stare, then grinned best he could, his lips twisting.

Jealous?

He snorted through his nose and looked at the wall, as though sharing a joke with it.

Of what, you? Of little Henrietta Knott and her large, dusty, empty house? Full of ourselves, aren't we?

Hattie swallowed, her anger deflating, then bit back a sob and fled from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Hello, good people! I update around 8am (uk time) everyday, so you don't have to keep checking. Also, as a writer, I enjoy recieving critique about my work. Do leave a comment.

God bless,

Anonymitea64