I only had a brief moment of missing New York while we were abroad—it disappeared quickly, and by the time I was back in my apartment, I was simply aching to be back in Switzerland again. At least, I was wishing to relive all nights except New Year's Eve—which is still a haze. On our way home, at some point, 'It Ain't Right' came on the radio, and I immediately started feeling nauseated. I really don't remember half of what happened that night, but Pepper assures me it was a good one in more than one respect.
Still, my return to New York wasn't nearly as exciting as the Asgardians.' They had, in fact, received more death threats and other threats of violence upon their return—or rather, conditional on their return.
So it was no surprise that I ran into Daniel on duty at their apartment building three days after our return, when I'd promised Thor to pick up a few things from the marketplace. He sounded horribly upset to ask me for such a favor over the phone, and it took some effort to assure him that I was more than happy to help.
Despite that, seeing Daniel wasn't exactly the cherry on top of my day. I strode past him briskly in the entrance, and I only locked eyes with him for a moment before looking away—amping up my earphones' volume loud enough that I couldn't hear my own heels against the floors. Or him, following after me—the only indication of that was a sudden grab at my arm.
"For fuck's sake, what do you want?" I eye him menacingly as I pull an earphone out.
He opens his mouth for a moment, and closes it again, looking unsure of himself.
I nod. "Right," I say, and turn to keep walking.
"Cerys-" he stumbles after me. "I..." he pauses, and I give him a sidelong glance. "I heard your apartment was broken into."
I narrow my eyes at him. "None of your business, but yeah—it was."
He shrugs reluctantly. "I... Wish you called me."
An icy look freezes over my expression. "And I wish you didn't waste my time, but we don't always get what we want," I say in a low voice.
I turn to walk away, but he steps forward again. "Please just... I'm sorry. I want you to know that you can call me if you're ever in trouble."
Sadness replaces the anger in my chest. This was the care I thought I once had in our relationship—I was wrong the first time, shame on me if he fools me again.
"I can take care of myself, Daniel," I say. "And you clearly had your plate full with someone else when your give-a-damn actually mattered to me."
"Not anymore," he shakes his head. "I...We...We're not together anymore. I didn't really even believe that I did that to you either, I've never cheated on anyone before. And..." he pauses, and I swallow hard. "I'm just really sorry that I hurt you like that. It's not me."
"No, it was you. Have some responsibility, you knew what you were doing. And if you knew me as well as I thought you did, you'd know that I wouldn't fall for that 'it wasn't me' crock of shit," my voice starts to break by the end, and I turn away before he can see me shoving the tears down.
"Cerys," he says in a stern tone—stern enough to make look back, and nervousness beats through me at the concern that's seeped into his slightly hardened expression. "Just... Take care of yourself!" he calls out to me a final time.
I narrow my eyes confusedly and shake my head as I turn back, feeling the tears rise. The redness barely escapes my eyes by the time I get to the Asgardians' apartment, and I put on my best smile when Thor opens the door.
"Lady Cerys!" he says, smiling at first and beckoning me in—but then his face turns grave as soon as he notices the redness. "What—are you alright?"
I exhale deeply, nodding my head as I saunter into the apartment. "Yeah, yeah I'm alright. I just," I gesture back with my free hand. "I ran into Daniel on my way in."
Realization suddenly blooms in his expression. "Oh no," he says. "Forgive me—I'd completely forgotten, they'd always had him downstairs when a threat was issued. I shall see to it that he's immediately excused."
"It's alright," I chuckle as I set the bag down on the counter and turn back to him, raising a shoulder and let it drop as I shake my head. "I can handle Daniel, there's no need for that."
"We could always fillet him alive," I jump at Loki's voice behind me, and spin around to see him suddenly perched on one of the bar stools, with a cup in his hand and a book in the other. "Then none of us will have to tolerate his insufferable countenance," he says casually, taking a sip of whatever's in his mug, as he continuous reading.
"Tempting," I say laughingly, and he glances up at me briefly as I walk over to his side of the kitchen island, and set my purse down. I raise a brow, "But if anyone's going to fillet him, it'll be me. With my words. So you don't go to jail."
A grin tugs on the corner of Loki's lip, and he looks back down at his book. "As you wish, darling," he purrs.
I grin as I turn away, subduing the heat in my cheeks by averting my attention back to the grocery bag and gesturing to it. "I think that's everything you asked for, but if there's anything missing, I can go back and get it."
"You're too king to us, Lady Cerys," Thor grins, opening up the bag to start unloading it. "I'm sure that won't be necessary. Though, if you have the items list, I would like to see it—so we know how much we ought to repay."
"Oh, that's right," I turn, unzipping my bag as I start ruffling through it. "I have it here, somewhere..."
My voice trails off as I sigh frustratedly—going through the pile of receipts and other miscellaneous items, until I start pulling things out and dropping them on the counter. A giant, beige paper stock card covers the top of the pile, and it comes out with the second handful.
I glance at the golden letters as I set it face up:
Winter Gala
01/13/2019
~
Cerys Adelin
RSVP: Attending/Not Attending
+1__________
I look back into my purse and continue rummaging around in it, until I finally find the receipt I'm looking for. "Here it is!" I hold it up to Thor. "Minus the Starbucks coffee, I bought that for myself."
In the corner of my eye, I see the card disappear from the table. I turn and look over, seeing Loki holding it up by the corner as he eyes it blankly.
"Winter Gala," he muses. "Is that a ball?"
I shrug. "Sort of. It's formal, so everyone's going to be dressed up, but no one actually calls it a ball."
"And you haven't accepted this invitation?"
I shake my head. "It's just a formality, they know I'm coming."
His eyes flicker up to me wryly. "No 'plus one?'" he asks.
Something tight tugs at my chest as I shake my head, "Nope, not this year."
In a moment of silence, the only sound between us is Thor going through the paper bag.
"Well... Would you like one?" Loki asks casually, and I blink at him. Even Thor stops his rummaging, and looks up at Loki.
"Uhm," I pause, lifting a hand up. "Sure, why not?"
He nods—as if confirming the time for a haircut—and takes another sip from his cup as he looks back down to his book.
I bob my head in turn as I look over at Thor, who's staring dumbfoundedly at us with the slightest hint of a grin on his lip.
I shrug, and Thor returns the gesture as he continues going through the bag—finding everything he needed amongst its contents. Looks like I won't be needing to run to the store again today.
~
Pepper's dress looks even better on than it did coming out of the box. For one thing, the neckline plunges into a deep 'V' that runs all the way down my back, and there's a sliver running down the side that reveals my left leg.
I got my hair done professionally earlier today, in an elegant updo, but I did my makeup myself—even though it took me several tries to get the winged eyeliner perfectly symmetrical. The final touch is some bright red lipstick, and I glance in the mirror before throwing on my elegant red trench coat and heading out the door—checking to make sure that Crest did its job in whitening my teeth enough to make it look good with that shade.
I arranged with Loki to meet me at the Gala since I needed to get there early, mostly to celebrate with the crew before the other guests arrived—sponsors, and the like. James gave some stupid speech about teamwork and dedication in the center of the hall before letting us loose. At least, I thought the speech was stupid—either way, it was painful to wait through. Though that's hardly a surprise, I try to avoid being in the same room with him these days. Just to be safe, in case he goes and gets any other stupid ideas—again.
I sip the contents of my champagne glass as I turn away from the small dais where James was standing, and head toward the staircase at the end of the hall. Golden pillars pass me on either side as I stride toward it, seeing the reflection of the elegant murals on the beige, marble tiles clicking under my heels.
The stairs lead up to the second level of the hall, where I lean against the railing and listen to the soft, instrumental music as I watch the guests file in slowly. Most come in pairs, with the occasional loner or group of suited men—until finally, a familiar face strolls in.
I straighten up slowly as I peer down at Loki from above, leaving a hand against the stone railing. He's wearing an elegant suit, but it's not all black this time—he's got a white undershirt and a dark green tie, and one of his curls is hanging loosely over the side of his face. I watch for a moment as he saunters in, looking around the room with his hands in his pockets.
A familiar tension tightens in my chest as he notices the stairs, and follows them up to the second story—until his emerald eyes finally land on me. He narrows them as he peers up at me with a grin, and lowers his chin.
I smile as I turn, and sip the last of my champagne as I stroll across the level—keeping my hand on the railing—and descend the stairs. I'd lost track of Loki's whereabouts for a moment, and blink surprisedly as I see him suddenly climbing the steps below me.
"You're on time," I smile, stopping just above him, where his eyes are at even height with my own.
"I might say you were late by lingering so far away," he grins, and nods to the upper level. "Wouldn't exactly call that attending the the party."
I cock my head to the side. "A queen is never late," I croon wryly. "Everyone else is simply early."
Loki's brow furrows, and he smiles proudly. "Oh, truer words have never been spoken," he says earnestly, turning to the side to offer me his arm.
I smirk as I step down and hook my arm under his—immediately washed over by a bubble of warmth surrounding him, and his arm is solid against mine. "I didn't actually say that," I say laughingly. "I got it from a movie."
"Another film of yours?" he says sarcastically, looking over at me. "Will you force me to watch that too?"
"I didn't force you to watch National Treasure, if that's what you're referring to," I grin, giving him a sidelong glance. "And you didn't actually watch it, you were asleep less than halfway through."
"Well," he says. "You'll excuse me for compensating sleep after a lacking night."
I chuckle. "It's fine," I say, looking around as we rejoin the group of people at the bottom floor. "I appreciate what you were trying to do there."
Loki glances at me. "What I was trying to do?"
I open my mouth to respond, but am interrupted by the sound of James' voice to my right. "CERYS!"
I suddenly feel a hand pat my shoulder, and glance at Loki before we turn. And yes, it's James—always so considerate of people's personal bubbles.
I try to control the sour look on my face as I see him standing amidst a group of three, young-looking sponsors. "I'd like you to meet Tom Vernaki, Lisa Elinbeger, and Nick Jeren," he says, gesturing to them one by one. "This is Cerys, our little star this year."
"Nice to meet you," I say with a nod, smiling at them—trying to ignore the unconventional bitterness at being referred to as a 'little' star.
I blink at another group of three men standing just behind them—almost prepared to greet them by the way they're looking at me—until they turn away. I furrow a brow, and return my attention back to the company at hand.
"It's very nice to meet you," says Lisa. "I've heard a lot about you these past few months, and then when I saw you at the festival, I knew it was all true. You certainly have talent."
"Well thank you so much," I say, feeling a bit of color rising to my cheeks. "It's just a lot of practice, honestly."
"Oh I'm sure that's not true, we were all there," she says earnestly, and turns an eye to Loki beside me. "And... I think I saw you in the front row too, sir—I'm sorry, your name is...?" she asks, holding a hand out to him.
"Loki," he says politely, taking her hand and raising it up to his lips.
"Oh," she laughs, and my face calcifies a bit at the color I see rushing to her cheeks. I sway slightly, loosening my grip from Loki's arm a bit.
"Well, it's..." she pauses, nodding her head. "It's nice to meet you. Are you from around here?"
Tom and Nick look over at her strangely, and I suddenly have the impression that they're all friends—judging by the glance they exchange from over her shoulder.
"No," Loki responds matter-of-factly. "No, I'm from Asgard."
Three pairs of eyes suddenly widen at us—save for James, who steps away from me ever so slightly. From over his shoulder, I notice that one of the three men standing behind the sponsors suddenly turns slightly, and eyes Loki—along with myself.
"Oh, wow," says Nick. "So you're with the, uh..." he pauses, waving a hand through the air. "Group of people who resettled here a few months ago?"
"That's right."
"Wow," Lisa crosses her arms, cradling her champagne glass against her shoulder. "What was that like?"
"Well," Loki says, knitting his brows together and taking a breath, like he's preparing to spin a long tale—while I roll my lips together slightly. "It's been quite the process for us to assimilate to your society, but it's coming along nicely."
"Good," Lisa nods. "Good."
"We did enjoy the festival greatly as well," Loki adds, looking over at me, and then to James. "Particularly the addition made in our honor."
"Oh yeah," James says, relatively tightly. "Yeah, that was the committee's idea, mostly."
"Well, it was a good one," Loki responds.
A waiter walks by with a tray of glasses, and James turns toward it—beaming slightly. "Ah, here we are," he takes two glasses and holds them out to the sponsors, before taking two more.
Loki and I accept them politely. Both seem to make the subsequent conversation flow a bit more easily—on my end anyway, since talking to sponsors and guests alike as they come and go around us gets more and more dull. Answering the same inquiries, offering the same statements—it all grows tiresome after a while.
Eventually, my eyes fall back to the three men still standing near us—occasionally turning and whispering amongst themselves as they eye myself and Loki. It doesn't seem like they intend to introduce themselves like all the others, and that kind of behavior at a big, crowded event like this is just giving me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Actually," Loki's voice suddenly brings my attention back, though I have no idea where I left off of the conversation. "Cerys—I was wondering if you might want to dance."
I blink up at him surprisedly, reading his knowing expression—almost as if he could sense my sudden discomfort.
"Oh, uh," I pause, glancing back at the men—who file off somewhere one by one. "Yeah, sure," I say, and we excuse ourselves politely from the group of sponsors, guests, and James.
Loki leads me somewhere off to the side—away from the crowd, and I can feel his eyes on me as I look around for the men.
"Feeling alright?" he asks. I look up at him, suddenly realizing his towering stature, and the depth in his disconcerted eyes pulls my attention back to him wholly.
"Yeah," I breathe out, and shake my head slightly. "Sorry, I just... got distracted for a minute there."
"By those men that were watching you, I presume?" he says.
I know I should be alarmed by the fact that he noticed them too, but my brain feels stunted by the hand that suddenly appears at my waist—even more so as the other lifts my right hand up into the air.
"Oh, y—you saw that too?" I ask, holding his emerald gaze as my hand slides up his shoulder—over the rough fabric of his suit.
"I did," he says solemnly—keeping eye contact as we sway slightly to the music.
"And," I pause—trying to compose a coherent thought, while the the white-hot nervousness steeping in my chest extends through the rest of my limbs. "What do you think?"
"Certainly strange," he says coolly.
I nod, trailing my eyes over to the right as Loki does the same—immediately landing on the three men, looking over their shoulders at us and whispering amongst themselves.
"Wait, you said they were watching... me?" I breathe out, looking back up at him.
"In large part," Loki says, sliding his hand further around my waist until it touches my exposed backside. My breathing nearly stops as he pulls me closer—almost protectively—as his attention remains fixed on the men waiting for the next chance to look over at us.
With how close I am to him now, I can practically feel my breath bouncing off him, and blowing back into my own face. At this point, I'm praying that my backside doesn't suddenly start perspiring under his hand. Loki, on the other hand, seems completely unfazed by the closeness.
"Has anyone been inside your apartment recently?" he asks, looking down at me. A flicker of softness passes over his expression as he suddenly sees me staring up at him in such close proximity.
"Uh," I blink, shaking my head. "N—no, why do you ask?"
"Because I might expect some negative attention in my direction—but those men are most certainly watching you," he says. "And your apartment was recently broken into."
A different type of tension spills into my chest—more fearful, more apprehensive. "Oh," I murmur quietly. "Why would they be watching me?"
Loki raises a brow. "I don't know," he says. "Though... I suspect strongly that they will abate when you're no longer in my company."
I nod, feeling a glimmer of relief. "I hope you're right..." I say. "They don't exactly seem... friendly."
A wry grin tugs on the corner of his mouth, and he glances at them intermittently as he steps to the left—guiding me into a crowd a bit further, where they can't see us.
He grins softly as he turns his attention back to me. "Well, perhaps you could lull them into better affections."
I blink confusedly, and tilt my head to the side. "What do you mean?"
Loki exhales lightly through his nostrils, pausing for a moment as he studies my face.
"I mean..." he says in a soft voice, suddenly inching closer to me as his voice trails off. "Demonstrate that gift of yours... As you have with me. Though perhaps, not quite to the same extent?" he grins.
"I've... done you? I mean—" I shake my head, fully aware of the insane babble pouring out of my mouth—a direct result of the speed of blood flow coursing through me. Not enough time to oxygenate my brain, and it doesn't really seem like singing exercise would help my current enunciation. "You mean... like I lulled you?"
Loki eyes me amusedly for a moment, and the grin spreads broadly across his face.
At this point, I'm pretty sure that my pulse is racing faster than in any workout I've ever done, and Loki's eyes scan the length of my face heavily as he pulls me forward. And here—in some inconspicuous corner of this grand, magnificent hall—everything around us disappears as his warm, soft lips graze mine lightly. My eyes shut slowly of their own accord, and after a moment of light grazing, I suddenly feel the coarseness of his stubble as he presses harder against my lips.
My grip grows weaker in his hand, but he holds it tightly, still pressing his other hand firmly against my backside. Hot affection burns inside my chest, and I can feel my knees getting weaker as well. Goddamn, when did he start having this effect on me? And... when did I start having this effect on him?
But, this effect... What 'effect' do I have on him, exactly?
I felt your humming... His words suddenly pop into my head—of course, coaxing more mental diarrhea at the most unwelcome of times ...Perhaps you could lull them into better affections.
I pull away from him gently, hearing the soft, sensual sound of our lips parting slowly. The air cools my dampened lips as I open my eyes as I open my eyes slowly, and look up at him.
Loki's eyes flicker open subsequently, and he peers down at me blankly. The heat in my chest begins to dim as I knit my brows slightly.
"I'm sorry, but... what did that mean?" I ask, practically whispering.
Movement tugs on the corner of his lip. "Which part?"
"Is that a jab at..." I pause, holding his gaze. "At what I've been doing?"
The blankness fades to utter confusion in Loki's expression. "What?"
"What did you mean when you said I could 'lull them into better affections?'" I ask calmly.
"I..." A glimmer of realization suddenly appears in his eyes, and Loki's expression shifts slowly as he glances off to the side—revealing a hint of contemplation before looking back at me. "Well, I'm not fully sure," he says, shaking his head lightly. "I just know that... You've some gift."
My lips part hesitantly. "Some... gift? You mean the..." I pause. "The humming, and the praying?"
Loki eyes me for a moment. "Yes, that," he says tightly.
A tiny hint of dread tugs at my chest. "And... How does it affect you, besides waking you up?"
Loki stares back at me intently, keeping his lips pressed shut—though the look on his face says he understands exactly what I'm getting at. That somehow, for some reason, whatever motivated this... Act of affection, is just the product of some pent up physical attraction. That something about those nights was more than just my accidentally waking him up—something about them affected him.
I sigh, looking away. I bite my cheek and shake my head, summoning the best smile I can muster.
"You know what, it's... it's okay. This is a weird thing to ask after someone kisses you. Just... don't worry about it," I say, pulling away from him and intertwining my arm in his once more. "Let's just enjoy the night, okay?" I say, gathering as much sincerity as I possibly can.
Loki eyes me solemnly for a moment, but finally nods.
I exhale lightly through my nostrils. Unfortunately for both of us, I doubt I'll be able to get those words out of my head—'Demonstrate your gift... As you have with me.'
If all this was just a lone product of some physical attraction on Loki's end, then that's that. All the questions and implications can be contemplated at a later time, but for now, one thing is clear—I'll still be nice, I'll still be friendly, but it's not what I have time for these days. That thought alone further cools the warmth and excitement I'd felt just moments ago—but it's alright.
I try to feign a distraction as I glance around the room once more, looking for signs of the men that had been watching us—watching me—and see none.
Loki seems to have bought it, as he goes back to his stoic self in a matter of moments.
At least that's one less thing to concern myself with tonight. Time to wrap this up, I suppose.