His Dove (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 8 (Softy Side)

That night I had had the worst night in several weeks, years even. I had been so proud of myself for managing my nightmares so well, but I found myself waking up several times in the night.

The nightmares were always the same few, repeating themselves on a swivel. In my current I was running, heaving forward as the sand engulfed my feet with each step. The dark water beside me glistened in the moonlight, but the tree, rocks, and I were the only reflections within it. No matter how much I tried to refrain from looking up when the screams and whimpers started, it never worked. I always looked up just in time to see the fighting. The gory, inhumane fighting. The blazing flames that seemed to come out of nowhere. Blood absorbed into the sand, turning it red as the dark-haired woman in front of me cried for me, reaching her arm out just as a sword went down on her neck. At that same time, arms reached for me out of the darkness, grabbing me forcefully into their grip no matter how much I screamed or fought back.

I heaved as I woke up once again, flinging myself out of the bed as the covers felt like those same, forceful hands. I huffed looking at my clock. It was still only 2am, only an hour after I had woken up the last time. I got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a water from the fridge and leaning against the counter in an attempt to stop shaking.

"Are you alright?" I heard a soft voice, causing me to turn my head. Loki stood between the kitchen and the hall, his eyes focused on me.

"Oh, I didn't realize you'd be up." I said, adjusting my shirt a bit.

"Screaming usually manages to wake people." He said even more quietly, taking a step towards me.

"Shit. I'm s-"

"Don't." He grumbled. "I told you already. Do not apologize to me."

"I..." I paused a moment, pitifully trying to figure out a way to apologize without actually apologizing. I felt bad, keeping Loki up with my nonsense. "Nightmare. It happens, occasionally. More frequently when I'm stressed. I didn't mean to wake you." I rambled for a short moment, but bit my lip to stop myself.

Loki stared at me and a mix of emotions lingered, from concern to confusion and frustration. "Come. I'll take you back to bed." He said with his hand outstretched. I wasn't sure what possessed me to do so, but I took Loki's hand as he guided me to the bedrooms. "...Which one?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

"Hm?" I asked, my eyes darting to where he subtly stood and looked at me.

Loki lightly smiled, almost too faintly to notice. "Come now." He said as he opened his own bedroom door. "If you would like, that is."

I eyed him for a second, attempting to read his emotions, but for whatever reason I couldn't. I once again went against my natural instinct and followed him into his room. How stupid was that? I barely knew this man, and on top of that what I did know was that he had gone on a homicidal rampage on my city only a few years prior. Simultaneously, though, I did have my strong suspicion that the Battle of New York wasn't entirely his fault, and an even stronger feeling that Loki was genuinely trying to be helpful, comforting even, towards me. The only strange part was how incredibly well it was working.

He pulled the covers back as he guided me to the clearly unslept in side, before walking back around the bed and standing on the other side, holding the corner of the blanket in his palm. "You're... Okay with me getting in over here, yes? If not, I can take the ch-"

"I'm okay with it." I managed to squeak out.

"Get some sleep, dove. I'll be here." He whispered now as he laid back in his bed, glancing at me as I leaned back myself.

"Goodnight, Mischief."

The next morning I woke up to find Loki and I's legs entangled, his lips against my ear and his arms around my hips. I hated to admit it, but his firm grasp on my hip and the breath he released against my ear and neck nearly sent a shiver down my spine. "I know what you're thinking, but you moved to my side of the bed, Darling."