𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐰 ❅ 𝐥𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭

"𝐰𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞."

❅

"Love can transpose to form and dignity," Belle recites to an interested looking Peter as she allows herself to relax into the small chair by Loki's bedside. "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore-"

"And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind," Loki finishes softly, shocking Belle as she had thought the Frost Giant was asleep.

Surprise manifests itself across Belle's face in the soft daylight before she can stop herself, the girl turning towards Loki's bed in an instant.

"You know Shakespeare?"

"I had an expensive education," Loki grunts softly, turning over in bed to face her.

"Actually," Belle says in a flutter of excitement, "Romeo and Juliet's my favorite play."

Loki groans theatrically, slumping down in bed as he rolls his eyes in mock dismay.

"Why is that not a surprise," he mutters, although his blue-tinted lips can be seen curving into the smallest of smiles at the ends.

"I'm sorry?" Belle snaps back quickly.

"Well, all that heartache and pining and," Loki finishes his sentence with a scoff, sticking his tongue out to emphasize his point. "There are so many better things to read."

"Like what?" Belle scoffs, teasingly challenging the giant beside her.

"Like this," Loki says moments later, throwing open the ornate golden doors of a room Belle had previously never thought to explore. "I suppose there are a couple of things in here you could start with."

Any witty retorts that Belle had thought of are suddenly nonexistent as her eyes scan the endless shelves holding more books than she could ever previously have fathomed. A large fireplace crackles nearby, illuminating the room with a soft, warm light in addition to the large windows spanning the length of the library.

Belle lets out a small gasp in both shock and amazement as she turns slowly, still scanning the neverending rows of bookshelves, housing more books than she had thought could even be in existence.

"Are you alright?" Loki suddenly asks in response to Belle's gasp, the faintest traces of worry creasing the lines of the dusted-blue features of his face.

"It's...wonderful," Belle remarks for lack of any better words, still gazing upon the almost otherworldly sight before her.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Loki says half to himself as he examines the girl's wonder and amazement before him. Never before had he ever stopped to appreciate the ornate workings of this castle that he had taken for granted for all these years. His own fascination of Belle's reaction stretches far beyond any other emotion that he had felt in the past years he was stuck here alone--so much, in fact, that he doesn't even catch the double meaning of his own words. "If you like it so much, than it's yours."

Belle could have sworn that at that moment her heart might have leapt out of her chest. Confused at his own words and reaction, Loki takes Belle's wondrous silence as an excuse to slowly turn around and make his way back to the doorway, intending to leave the girl to her thoughts--and himself to his own.

"Have you really read every one of these books?" She asks quickly, making Loki's retreating frame pause.

"What?" Loki questions, cocking his head over his shoulder to look at Belle's uncertain form shifting her weight back and forth. Belle only smiles sheepishly in response, making Loki realize that she was dead serious in her question. "Well," he scoffs teasingly, "not all of them. Some of them are in Greek."