Loki sat on his chair in the TVA, running a cold hand through his hair. He had just returned from a mission in the Arctic, his body still numb from the freezing temperatures. He rubbed his hands together, trying to regain some warmth, clenching and unclenching them in frustration. Blood dripped from a cut above his left eyebrow, a reminder of the battle he had just fought.
Feeling the need to document his mission, Loki pulled a piece of paper out of his desk and attempted to write a report. However, his hand was shaking too much to create anything legible. Frustrated, he rubbed his temples with his forefingers, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
Just then, Mobius and Sylvie returned from their own mission. Sylvie, lacking a desk of her own, stood nearby, while Mobius settled into his desk next to Loki's. Concern etched on his face, Mobius couldn't help but ask, "What happened to you, Loki?"
Loki flashed his signature smile, masking his discomfort. "Mission in the Arctic, a rogue variant. I caught him, but..." He gestured to his disheveled appearance and cold demeanor, unable to finish his sentence.
Mobius remained concerned, his eyes filled with worry. Loki's anger began to surface, his magical green eyes glowing with intensity. He ran a hand through his hair, sounding both annoyed and confused. "Well, I would have easily defeated him if I hadn't forgotten my knives. I was certain they were in my pocket."
Sylvie looked guilty as she held up Loki's dagger. "Actually... I took it on our mission. I forgot you had one too." Loki's frustration threatened to boil over, but he couldn't find the energy to snap at her. His shoulders slumped, defeated. "Oh, okay." He took the dagger back from her, handling it with care.
As Loki processed the situation, Mobius stepped closer, his concern evident. "What are you doing?" Loki asked, his voice laced with confusion.
"Giving you a hug," Mobius replied, his arms enveloping Loki in a warm embrace. He rubbed a hand on Loki's back, trying to generate some heat. "You look like an icicle, Lokes."
Sylvie, ever mischievous, took the opportunity to slip the dagger out of Loki's hand and sat down on top of Mobius's desk, casually polishing the weapon. Loki was left speechless, caught off guard by the unexpected display of care and affection.
Breaking away from the hug, Mobius took Loki's hands in his own, gently rubbing them to restore some warmth. "Let's get you some hot cocoa," he suggested, his voice filled with determination.
Sylvie hopped off the desk, dagger safely tucked into her pocket. "Can't miss that," she chimed in, eager to join in the comforting ritual.
As they made their way towards the exit, Mobius noticed the cut on Loki's face. He reached out and wiped away the blood, concern etched on his features. "What happened?" he asked softly.
Loki shrugged, rubbing at the cut self-consciously. "He got a lucky hit in," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.
Mobius gently took his hand away from the cut and pushed Loki's hair back, revealing the wound more clearly. "Come on, we'll fix that while we get cocoa," he said, his voice filled with reassurance.
And so, with their unexpected display of care and support, Loki found himself being led away by Mobius and Sylvie, leaving behind the chaos of the TVA for a moment of warmth and comfort.