Loki X Reader One-Shots [SLOW UPDATES]

#32: I Understand Way Too Much

All of a sudden, I felt a light touch on my shoulder –a touch that startled me and almost (thank goodness, just almost) made me scream. I turned my head abruptly as the hand on my shoulder jerked away, and my eyes met a pair of familiar blue-green orbs –Loki's. Judging from his messy hair, his too casual clothes and sleepy (yet concerned) facial expression, I could tell he had just woken up.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I moved my head up and down. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. You just startled me a bit," I lied.

"Sure? You seem preoccupied," he said.

"Oh, I was just looking at the obituaries in the newspaper and thinking about the futility of existence," I said, giving my voice a half-joking tone.

"Okay then," Loki mumbled, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn't convinced.

He didn't buy it –of course he didn't. This man could always see through any defence I used to hide my emotions. I wondered how he managed to do it. Now I know it's because he uses the same defences to hide his own pain but, back then, I had no idea.

~-~-~

Throughout the day, I did my best to hide the feelings of pain and despair that threatened to swallow me whole – and I did a quite good job. The others didn't seem to suspect there was something wrong with me... Well, most of them, at least. Every time I'd look around when I was not alone, I'd see Loki's eyes staring at me, a dark shadow falling into his beautiful face. As if he knew...

At lunch, I didn't have any appetite at all. Instead of filling my plate with a considerable amount of food like everyone else did, I only took a small bowl and served myself a small salad. Yet the knot in my stomach made it hard for me to even eat that. Loki was sitting opposite to me, shooting glasses every now and then, something that made holding up my defences is even harder than it already was.

"Won't you eat?" he asked at some point after everyone else had finished their meals, yet I still sat there looking at my barely touched salad.

"I'm not that hungry, actually," I responded as calmly as I could, forcing a small smile.

"Y/N, please-" he started saying.

"My stomach hurts a bit, that's all," I cut him off, maybe a bit more eagerly than I should. Then I stood up and got out of the room, feeling his look following my movement.

In the afternoon, I saw him looking through the pages of the newspaper I was reading in the morning and, knowing that Loki wasn't the kind of person who reads newspapers, I wondered whether it was another attempt on his behalf to discover what troubled me. I tried to ease the sense of panic that rose inside me, making the weight on my shoulders even heavier. Your grandmother's last name differs from yours, I thought to myself. Even if he sees it, he won't be able to tell...

The evening found me in my room, struggling with the suffocating feelings of loss, despair and pain. My grandmother's death hurt so much –it felt as though I'd gotten stabbed right in my heart. She was in my mind, constantly. And the thought of her death was enough to bring back painful memories from the past; the death of my father, the abuse I went through when I was younger... As though those thoughts ever leave, my mind told me. But this time was different. Feelings were too strong; I was too fragile, too vulnerable, too weak.

After struggling to ease those emotions – and failing miserably– I decided I'd had enough. Careful not to make much noise in order to pass unnoticed, I got out of my room and went down to the basement to where I knew the drinks were being kept. Taking a bottle of whiskey (or was it vodka? I really don't remember, but it doesn't matter), I sighed. Really, Y/N? Back to the old habits? Are you going to take tranquillisers too?