Chapter 24 - Light Activity

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"You must stop fidgeting, darling."

Loki kneads along the pathway of tendons in your foot. But his fingers press against that sore spot again. With a wince, your leg twitches, instinctually pulling away from the pain. Loki huffs from the other end of the sofa, where he holds your only slightly swollen ankle in his lap.

"Sorry," you sigh.

Loki's gaze narrows, the green of his eyes almost glowing with how intensely he studies you. For a moment, you feel him prowling along the edges of your mind. But with a pointed quirk of your brow, his presence recedes.

"Loki," you warn. "You're not allowed in there without permission."

Loki scoffs. "Can you really blame me for wanting a peek? You've been anywhere but here for the last hour," Loki frowns. "I am a god, darling. And I am massaging your feet. At the very least you should be paying rapt attention to me, and me alone. What could possibly have you so preoccupied?"

A small chuckle slips out as you sit yourself upright and pull your foot from Loki's lap. Instead, you pull your legs beneath you to get on all fours, crawling slowly up the sofa until you straddle his lap, and let your arms fall over his shoulders, fingers tangling in the dark locks at the nape of his neck.

"I'm here," you exhale, leaning your forehead to his. "And thank you. It feels better."

"Of course it does," Loki smirks. 

You roll your eyes and lean in for a slow, simple kiss. Loki returns it eagerly, quickly moving from your lips to your neck. But as his lips start to wander, so does your mind. To the dull, albeit receding, pain in your ankle. To the tender care Loki has been showing these past days. To his almost suspicious level of respect when it comes to your mental boundaries.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't the smallest bit suspicious. Loki's uttered promise of renewed escape attempts lingers in the corners of your mind. Reminding you that he has all but said he's biding his time. 

What if he's just lowering your guard?

Stop it, Y/n, you mentally scold yourself as guilt at just having the thought washes through you. Ever since you were put on "light activity", Loki has been nothing but attentive. Considerate. Patient. A far cry from the man you met three months ago. And all the time without training has given you even more time to spend with him. Of which you've taken full advantage, spending the last four or five days spending the night in Loki's quarters, and sleeping in beside the raven-haired god.

"Darling, you're drifting," Loki mumbles, his teeth scraping lightly over your pulse point, pulling your breath from your lungs in a surprised, and aroused, gasp. "That's better," he grins, sucking down hard.

"Ow! Damnit, Loki," you frown, giving him a push and bringing your fingers to your neck, where a tiny spot of blood stains your fingertips. You hold up your stained finger accusingly.

Loki shoots you a look of innocence that should be impossible for a murderous, trickster god. But you've gotten to know him well enough that you can spot the pleased gleam hidden deep in the green. Unable to truly be sore at him, you huff, keeping the pretense of irritability as you lean back in a steal a peck. But Loki's fingers find their way to your hair, holding you in place as he teases you with another bite to your lower lip.  You're on the verge of letting go and giving yourself to him when a faint chime from the ceiling sounds through the apartment. 

"Norns," Loki curses at the same time as you let out an exasperated groan. But you don't delay in extricating yourself from his lap and reaching for your crutches. Loki watches with a displeased furrow in his brow.

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