The God and the Siren (Loki Romance)

Chapter Eighteen

Every had gone to bed by the time Pepper, Sif, and I got home. I hadn't been enjoying the night as much after our strange conversation, and the troublesome thoughts didn't abate when we were back at the flat.

Pepper's strange demeanor was especially unsettling—I've never seen her try so actively to change the subject, or push her way from one point to the next in a conversation. Something about the topic clearly bothered her, though she seemed like she was under the impression that I'd taken the bait, and moved on.

But I didn't, and I haven't. Even now, laying amidst the soft pillows strewn around me. The blankets are thick and warm, and the hum of the heater is soothing, but I still haven't been able to get any rest. I glance over at the clock on the nightstand to my left—2:31 AM, show the little green, glowing digits.

And I'm wide awake—I have been, for almost two hours now. It's hard to say whether this is from jet lag, or if the nap I'd taken earlier gave me some extra reserves of energy. After a few more minutes of lying motionlessly, I finally sigh heavily and throw the blanket off of me, and slide my legs off the side of the bed.

I glance at the warm robe that's draping over the chair in the corner, and stride over to take it before exiting the room. The door shuts rather abruptly behind me, and I wince—cursing myself for underestimating how loud it would close behind me as I look down the darkened hallway. I let out a breath at the lack of sound and movement, and continue on to the living area.

All the rustic colors of the decor have faded to a pale, blue tint under the light of the moon pouring in from the window, and the stillness of it all is already lulling me into relaxedness. I glance at the bookshelves on either side of it, and my footsteps thump lightly against the hardwood floor as I pace toward them across the room.

My shoulders drop disappointedly as I near them—the light from the window may have been enough to read, but I'm realizing now that these corners of the room are too dark for me to even see the titles on their spines. And I'm not about to disrupt this peaceful night by letting in more light.

I sigh, and turn away from them as I head toward the couches, ploppinh down against the furthest corner of the one on my left—on the far side of the fireplace, nearest to the door. I sink into the cushions comfortably, and scoot down until my head is leaning against the armrest. Finally, I settle at an angle that lets me stare right up at the moon—which is looming in the topmost part of the window.

The perfect setting for some late-night couch rumination. About where I am, about the day's events... Except this time, they thoughts are going further back—back to when I'd spent a few nights at the Asgardians' home. Loki's home. I grin as I remember my first night there—it was dark and tranquil, just like this one. And I remember how I'd run into Loki on my way out of the bathroom. How I felt a twinge of guilt when he said he'd 'felt' my humming, and that it woke him up.

My hair scratches against the armrest as I turn and peer at the hallway.

Well Loki's there, right now. Sleeping. Loki, the Asgardian... The norse god. The dick. The weirdo.

I wonder whether he'd hear me now, if I hummed a little. Or prayed—he is a god, isn't he? That'd be an interesting experiment.

My head shakes almost automatically.

I can't wake the guy up. It's so rude. Although... he hasn't exactly been the picture of courtesy, either.

Tension flickers in my chest as soon as the idea crosses my mind. I've been staring at the empty hallway for almost a minute now, and it's only now occurring to me that the only recurring thought that's been passing through my mind, is the image of Loki appearing in it. His mood would be a 50/50 chance between sweet and sour, but maybe he'd be hot and bothered—mostly bothered. I'd have it that way. In either case, no one really holds his moods against him—and that's clearly for a reason. At the end of the day, he's harmless. Just a little shadow trailing our group at all times.