Dearest Loki,
I wouldn't know how to tell you concisely, for my thoughts are just as confusing as my feelings. Although, I must preface this by saying that despite your cold and brooding demeanor, my good opinion of your person remains untouched. We may have gotten off the wrong foot and perhaps butt heads every time we encounter one another (because of your arrogance and my bullheadedness) but that does not give me enough reason to think lowly of you. You are intelligent and opinionated, respectful and polite, just as a perfect gentleman. Accomplished in more ways than one, more than I could accomplish in my life. Handsome and educated as well.
I really don't know the purpose of me sending you this letter. I could have told you in person, but I suppose I'm not as courageous as I thought I was, so I figured a letter would suffice. It never occurred to me that you had seen me in a romantic sense. Because you are as contradictory as your physical form. Light and dark always fighting who gets to be seen the most. Beautiful yet tragic at the same time. Harsh but soft, I sense that you get my point.
You have treated me with the utmost respect and I could not have asked for better treatment. But that warmth you show me is quickly replaced with coldness in a matter of moments. From my eyes, you've never made your intentions clear to me. You kept making me look at you from left to right so quickly, I dizzy myself. It was never my intention to hurt you. Even in the moments that I felt myself angry with you, I never wished you heartache.
I apologize for being so improper and for any embarrassment that I may have caused you. When you asked for my hand I knew nothing but shock and confusion. It felt as if I had disappointed you. Why hadn't I seen your true intentions? I felt like I was at fault. So I ran and I hid to recollect myself and my senses. Now that I am writing you this letter, I see things a little clearer now. Not like crystals, but clear enough to know one thing.
You said you wanted me.
Come and get me.
Signed,
Your Biggest Pain
It wasn't easy to seal the letter in wax and have your servant send it to the post office. It wasn't at all easy, it was difficult and stressful and it riddled your body with unwanted anxiety. In those last moments before you sealed it, you wanted to rip it apart savagely and let the shredded remains burn in the fireplace never to be seen by anyone. But you had the courage to have it sent to Loki's residence. Now all you have to do is endure the more torturous part. Waiting.
-----
“A letter for you, Master Loki.” The servant bowed when he handed Loki the beautifully sealed letter in twine. He sent him away with a nod and proceeded to lock the door when he had noticed the wax seal was the crest of your family.
His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know what to do, what to feel. On one hand, he wanted to rip the pages into pieces and never read the words you wrote to him. On the other hand, he wanted to digest every single sentence you had addressed to him and perhaps visit your home just to tell you he read it. Both of the choices were incredibly tempting, but as he stared at the letter in his hands, he thought it was important that you had to reach out to him even after the unfortunate incident.
He carefully opened it on his desk, slower rather than usual. He had to prepare himself for either something dreadful or delightful. Loki doesn't know which feeling he wants to endure.
His green irises scanned over your delicate penmanship, analyzing each and every sentence you wrote, as if trying to find a hidden meaning in the very bold and forward letter. His jaw hung loose when he read the very last words.
Come and get me.
Were you mocking him? He felt like he was mocked. But you were never a person that would choose cruelty. Had you been serious? It would be incredibly contradictory if you had been. But you did explain why you had to run away from his kneeling form. So what now? What does Loki believe? What should Loki believe?
Should he write a letter of him rejecting you? Should he write a letter of him accepting you? Should he march upon your front door? Should he ignore it entirely?
He would ask Thor for advice but he knows that his older brother would be less than helpful. Thor would probably insist that he wait for it to rain then knock upon your door for an added dramatic effect.
Loki only had himself, sadly.
He set down your letter, carefully folding it before grabbing his own bit of parchment and quill and ink to compose his reply. If he could.
Loki sat there motionless on his desk for what seemed like hours, trying to write to you. You had explained your side and he understood. He had nothing else to say. Well- he does, he just doesn't know how to say it, or rather write it.
“Master Loki, there is someone here to see you.”
How long has it been? The thick curtains were closed that was why he didn't notice the sunlight come through the windows. Had he fallen asleep on his desk? If so, for how long? He needed to rest properly, so whoever this visitor is has to wait.
That is until the servant spoke your name.
Loki felt his body jolt to a full state of awareness and his back straighten upon the chair he was sat on.
“Bring her in.” Loki said, standing up from his station, hiding your letter in stacks of books in the process.
“Right away.”
Goodness you were here. What in the world does he do now?
You entered his study nervously. This wasn't a good idea, you thought when you finally laid your eyes upon him. This was the price you had to pay for being so damn impatient. You felt your tongue get heavier the further you walked into the room. Your fingers were unconsciously fidgeting with themselves. You dipped your head in a bow when you stood to face him, Loki did the same.
It was both torture and bliss to finally see your face again. Loki had wanted to apologize for not being enough, little did he know you wanted to say the same thing.
“I received your letter.”
“It was an accident.”
You two had spoken at the same time. Loki coughed and trailed his eyes to the bronze and gold carpet at the center of the room.
“You hadn't meant to send it?” he asked, his eyes elsewhere.
“No.” you lied, voice a little shaky.
Loki nodded and folded his hand behind his back.
“I'm sorry for visiting, Thor mentioned you haven't left your study all night. I must go.”
“No. Please, wait—” Loki didn't mean to sputter out those words desperately. But now that he did so impulsively, he had no choice but to speak his truth.
“I should have let you known.” he spoke quietly.
“It was never your fault.”
“It was. It was. If I hadn't stupidly kneeled in front of you we wouldn't be in this position.” Loki's voice was insistent, but it was not you he was convincing.
“I'm sorry I ran,” you apologized in a broken tone. “It was so wrong of me to run.”
Loki wanted to bundle you in his arms and tell you that you were never at fault, that it was only him that had made the wrong decisions, but he didn't have the courage. So he stood there, staring at your vulnerable form with sorry and longing eyes.
“Did you mean it?”
You raised your head and managed to look him in the eye for the first time in a long while. His green eyes were a lot tired now, less bright. It would be a lie if you said it didn't bother you because it did, greatly so.
“The letter. Did you mean what you said in the end?”
You had thought of this moment in your head for so many times. You had played this scene last night over and over, thinking of ways it could possibly end. Some of them were good, some of them were absolutely terrible. It was both a gamble to lie or to tell the truth.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Specially the end.”
You had told the truth. Now you wait for the storm or the calm seas.
Loki sharply sighed. His body tense but relaxed, his hands not clasped as tightly behind his body. It was what he wanted to hear. But why didn't he grab your face and kiss you almost immediately? Had he moved on? No, of course he hadn't. Even though you ran from him he still thought about you day and night. Was he not ecstatic to hear those words drop from your lips? He was, sort of. Not in a sense of winning of course, it was more like a breath of relief, that something he thought was true was in fact the truth and not some silly belief he had in his head.
“I understand if your affections changed within the last week.” you said, your words reaching out to him longingly.
“No. No they haven't.” Loki shook his head.
“Oh.” You looked at him hopefully but didn't really have any expectations that he would declare his emotions verbally. His vulnerability had been damaged ever since that day.
“I shall call for some tea,” Loki declared out of the blue when the silence was too much for him to handle.
“Of course,” you said in reply, making yourself comfortable on the large emerald sofa near the fireplace.
The servant arrived with a tea set of gorgeous china on a tray, carefully placing it on the coffee table in front of you. She bowed when Loki said he didn't need her assistance anymore. He sat beside you hesitantly, but truly he wanted to sit closer to you, perhaps even hold you in his arms.
You didn't have to say a word as to how you liked your tea, Loki prepared it perfectly and you thanked him so. There was silence, both of you trying to think of a word to say.
When you realized you couldn't find the proper words, you resorted to touching his hand that was freely placed on the sofa. Loki drew a shaky breath when he felt your hand on his. With newly gained confidence, he intertwined your fingers together. You would have smiled at this, but instead your eyes slowly filled with tears of happiness and relief.
You looked at him longingly, he returned your gaze just as desperately. Loki lifted your hand up to his lips and kissed it reassuringly, pressing his hand on top of yours in a way that the kiss would remain and never escape.
“I never meant to run,” you told him in that broken voice of yours that made Loki's heart break twice as much.
“I know,” he replied.
“I'm so sorry I ran.”
“It's alright.”
“I will always be here. I'll never run from you again.” Loki kissed your hand again and trailed his lips to your palm and fingers.
“Is that a promise?” he asked.
“Yes,” you said with a breath, chuckling softly afterwards. He laughed softly too, he still held your hand securely in his.
Without thoroughly thinking it through, you leaned into him and placed a quick kiss on his porcelain cheeks. It caught him off guard, but decided to match your impulsiveness and peck your lips.
You both sat there motionless, just staring at each other with pupils blown wide in your irises. Wondering what should happen next, whether to let formality and sensibility or the impulsive yearning to push through first. You both chose the latter.
Loki leaned in a second time to properly lay a kiss upon your lips. You responded as eagerly as him, a lone tear trickling down the side of your cheek out of sheer relief. You had placed your hand on his cheek, trying to pull him closer to you. His hand was placed at the nape of your neck, tilting your head so your soft, rose-tinted lips were perfectly placed against his.
Breathless, you separated. Loki kept his hand on your neck but soon rested it on your cheek, using his thumb to rub small circles on your cheekbone.
“What next?” you asked.
“I ask for your hand,” he replied. “Again.”
You grinned at his comment.
“What if I do the proposing this time?” You suggested it as a little joke but Loki seemed more than happy to oblige your request.
“I don't see why not.” By now, he no longer had lovesick and tired eyes, they were once more filled with mirth and mischief. You decided you liked it better this way, Loki would agree, he even got his smirk back.
You cleared your throat dramatically and signalled Loki to take a ring off of his finger so that you at least had one to slip on him. He passed an emerald pinky ring to you.
“Loki, son of Odin. Will you do me the great honor of making me the happiest woman in all the lands and be my husband?”
“Can I?”
“Loki!”
“Alright, yes of course! I shall be your husband!”
You slipped the ring on his finger while chuckling joyfully.
“We're engaged.” said Loki.
“That we are.”
“Finally.”