Reality kicked in with a rush.
Loki sat up, staggered up, ran straight into Natasha's bedpost and landed on the mattress. His heart rate was the highest he could remember it ever being, his breathing was irregular and heavy.
(always falling)
Stop. Please.
(always alone)
Loki punched the mattress. He felt the bed break.
(i will catch you)
'Get out of my head!' he yelled, and he must have done something, because the chandelier above him sparked and went out, all the tables and chairs went flying into the walls and the window shattered.
He lay still, in the darkness, panting. The orange light of a lamp post on the street washed over him. He turned his head towards the broken window, and a cool breeze ran over his face.
He shut his eyes.
(Natasha!)
He sat up. His body ached - like he had just run twenty miles.
Natasha, Natasha ... he was so angry with her. He was even angrier with himself when he checked his forearm to see if the words were branded into him.
Obviously not. Obviously.
A stupid dream.
Loki got out of bed. He tried the door. It was locked - of course it was. He smashed it without even really processing what he was doing, and made sure to grab his helmet on the way out.
The door swung open, and Natasha pressed herself closer to the wall, the curtains of the window surrounding her.
She heard a woman's voice, and for a moment worried that she had made a mistake - but no. A blonde woman walked into the room, a typical Californian blonde with long tanned legs wearing a short glittery clubbing dress, like the ones in the movies. With her, was Frisk. Tall and imposing, good-looking if he wasn't so scary-looking.
'You worry too much, baby,' said the woman, making her way across the room to a dressing table. Was she a model? She looked like a model. Tall and thin, and she walked like she owned the world. 'What did I tell you? Just chill.' She sucked in her already hollowed cheeks, and brushed them with a powder that seemed to have no effect whatsoever. The woman frowned at the mirror even so. 'God, I look like death. Have we got any champagne left?'
Who was she? She didn't look like the type of woman you could pick up at a bar. She didn't look like the type of woman you could pick up anywhere.
Frisk made his way towards the kitchen counter, opened the fridge and took out a bottle. He cracked open the cork effortlessly, and as he poured a glass, he said, 'It just feels - wrong, somehow. Maybe I am just paranoid.' Then, 'Amora? Are you listening?'
Amora. Natasha had never heard of anyone called Amora. Was she really just a simple Californian blonde, innocent and unrelated? She didn't look like one. She barely looked human.
The woman named Amora didn't even turn her head from the mirror. She had moved on to her lips now - painting them a dark, glossy red, like a fifties movie star - Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor.
'Hold on, honey,' the woman named Amora chided, 'I'm on the difficult part. The-ere now, that looks better.' She pouted at herself in the mirror, then went to sculpting her eyebrows with a deft hand. 'What did you say?'
'Maybe I am simply paranoid,' muttered Frisk. He took a deep sip of his champagne.
Amora finished sculpting her eyebrows, before turning and shooting a dazzling smile at Frisk.
YOU ARE READING
california 02 // loki's romanoff prelude
Fanfiction2012 - Loki has been arrested by the Avengers for his part in the attack on New York, the murder of hundreds worldwide, and attempted invasion of Earth. He's a villain, heartless and cruel, but even villains were younger once - and Loki has met Nata...
