To be Loki'd - Loki x fem reader

Chapter 8- Galas usually don't end up in fights even when drunk

LOKI'S POV: 

I tossed and turned in my bedsheets, unable to focuse on the poems I was reading. I tossed the book to the edges of the bed and picked up another one. Usually, I read these Midgardian works to keep my mind occupied but this time, it didn't work. Neither the emotional words of Shakespeare nor the fantasies of Orwell could give repose to my strained soul. I put my head in my hands and ruffled my hair. 

What in the Nines was happening? 

I hated to think this but my mind turned to Y/n once more. Her smile, her laugh, her concentrated look whenever she worked or read, the soft strands of hair that always escaped her hairstyles. Her face was imprinted upon my mind and I felt a small idiotic smile creep to my lips. What was she doing right now? Dancing? Drinking? Laughing with my oaf of a brother? 

How I wish she was once more with me, so we may talk idly or read, basking in each other's presence. For me, love only existed in plays or novels and everytime I saw it, scoffed. 

Emotions, emotions, emotions. 

Yet now my heart would leap when I heard her name or her voice in the corridors. This couldn't be love? Love makes you blind and a fool. And I certainly wasn't any of those. No, no.

 Something felt off. The 'Avengers' were still doing their fancy Midgardian trivialities and I, sadly, had been confined to my room. Do they not know who I am? How can they host an allegedly fancy and exclusive event if I wasn't invited? Me, who was royalty and divinity. I daresay, if my brother could go, this is more than enough proof that it was indeed not exclusive or upper-class. 

I heard footsteps in the hallways and instead of laughter or shouts like after every gala, they were whispering loudly and with concern. Something was definitely wrong. I jumped to my feet and tried to open the door but the man in the suit of iron had them locked prior to the event. After a few desperate attempts, I gave up unable to pry the door open. 

Silence feel upon the tower once more. Something gold flashed in front of my eyes. Maybe I was tired. I slumped into my bed and tried to fall asleep, burying my head under the covers. 

But then I heard voices again. 

"What do we do?" 

"They're gone." 

"Oh god, what are we..." 

I banged on the door and surprisingly, the lock clicked. The doors opened and I saw all of the Avengers torn up, bloodied and bruised. Goodness Midgardians can't even host nowadays; this would never happen in Asgard. 

That's when it hit me. A face was missing. Even in the rowdiest of celebrations, no-one would show up afterwards deeply wounded or with such a sad air on their face. 

"Where's Y/n?" I asked calmly, she was probably just in the bathroom or something. 

All of them turned to looked at everything but at me. The ceiling, the carpet, my room, the elevator. Everything except my raging green eyes, mirror of my soul. 

"Let me ask you this once more mortals. WHERE IS Y/N?!" 

Nobody answered. I felt my blood boiling and my hair was starting to float above my head. Power was surging through me, green forming in the palms of my hands. It engulfed me. I could feel the barcelet heating and shaking madly. More and more anger flowed through my veins, fueled the wildfire that burnt in my body.

"BROTHER!" Thor shouted, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

I turned to growl at him, at all of them. Something was wrong with Y/n and they wouldn't tell me.