My Prince

Standing at the right side of the door, the door swings open exactly at 5.

Your gaze straight ahead, it slowly lifts to Loki’s face as he enters your room, the corners of his lips turning up into a dark grin as he takes in your dress.

“The color of this dress suits you quite well, Miss Y/N,” he says, his hand slowly drifting out to finger the ruffle that sat between the corseted top and the ball-gowned bottom.

“It is nice to know that you approve, My Prince.”

Watching as his gaze quickly lifts to yours, he takes your hand in his and slowly brings it to his lips, his kiss light on the back as you feel your cheeks involuntarily flush.

Apparently my whole body defects to him.

Watching as his eyes twinkle at your reaction, he offers you his arm.

“I hope that you are hungry,” he states, leading you out in to the hallway, “There is quite a spread this evening.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, your body flooded with relief as a smile crosses your face. “I always wish to keep a lady-like demeanor, and it never ceases to amaze me at how little the choose to eat.”

Hearing Loki chuckle as he stops you both at the entrance to the eating hall, he turns to you and leans down in to your ear as your mouth begins to salivate at the smells wafting in to the hallway.

“A woman with an appetite is not only providing herself with comfort for a man to call home, but is also nourishing her body with great stamina in order to keep up with his pace.”

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Smiling as the third course rumbles through, a plate of cheeses and fruits are set in front of you.

Up until this point, you both had eaten the both salad and the entree in relative silence, stealing glimpses at one another and grinning like school-children whenever you both would glance up at the same time.

“Tell me a story.”

Lifting your head slowly, a piece of cheese mid-way to your mouth, your eyebrows hike themselves up as you respond breathlessly.

“I beg your pardon, My Prince?”

“I know nothing about you. Tell me a story. From your childhood…or from your school days. Anything.”

Seeing a rare glimpse of pleading in his eyes, you clear your throat and put the cheese to your lips, chewing slowly before reaching for your wine.

“Do you want a positive story, or a negative one?”

Raising your gaze once gain, you watch him ponder in silence as he studies your face.

"Both.”

Nodding lightly, you take a long sip from your wine glass, a waitress coming out from the abyss and refilling your glass.

“My father always told me how proud he was of me,” you start.

Watching as Loki slowly leans back into his chair, his leg crossing over the other, he interlocks his fingers and settles them across his lap.

"He traveled a lot for his work, traveling to all of these different r-"

Catching yourself as your gaze drops to your wine, you swirl it around before taking another sip, Loki's eyebrow crooking in the air as you make a mental note not to lose yourself completely in this dinner.

"Different regions of the planet...we call them countries," you say, bringing your gaze back up to his as he silently studies you.

"And in my childhood room I had this shelf full of the knick knacks he would bring back from all of the countries he had visited."

"Knick knacks?" Loki questions.

Furrowing your brow, you reach for a bunch of grapes as you say, "Trinkets?"

"Ah, yes. I bet there were many," he states, a light smile slowly casting his confusion aside.

"My shelves were full by the time he-"

Stopping again as you feel your throat begin to constrict, you blink a few times before taking a ragged breath and raising your head again.

"I always looked forward to his gifts. He would bring them wrapped in beautiful paper, and I was always so careful to take the paper off...trying desperately not to rip it."

Loki sits and listens intently as you lose yourself in the story, your eyes lighting up as your stoic eyes give way to light crows feet, indicating true smiles and real laughs.

"And he would always encourage me to rip it up...he was always so anxious to see my expression...but I would ignore his requests and take my time, savoring the sound and the feel of the paper."

Chuckling lightly, you look down at your hands, involuntarily wringing them as the emotion comes flooding back.

"They were always so beautiful," you whisper, your breath cracking as a tear escapes your eye.

"Do you miss them?" Loki asks lowly, leaning his body towards the table and letting his elbows rest on the strong wood.

"I miss them both," you choke out, your hands trembling as you attempt to keep what little is left of your composure.

Looking up to grab your wine glass, you realize that Loki is no longer in front of you, causing your brow to furrow.

Feeling the urge to stand up and go apologize for your blatant show of emotion, you feel a warmth encompass your left hand.

Looking over, tears still streaking your cheeks, you see Loki bowed towards you, his torso tilted as his hand sits lightly on top of yours.

Slowly pushing your chair out, he takes your hand as you catch his gaze, holding his eyes within yours as you slowly stand to your feet, walking as he leads you to the middle of the floor.

Pulling you close as his hand graces your waist, he pulls you close as his lips dip down to your ear, your right hand clasped with his left as he supports them both in the air.

"What is your favorite song?" Loki mutters, the two of you swaying to the sound of the wind whipping along the outside banisters.

Furrowing your brow as your face basks in the warmth of his breath, you feel your head slowly leaning in to his cheek.

"Remember When It Rained," you say barely above a whisper.

And as Loki begins to hum its tune every so lightly in your ear, you close your eyes and lose yourself in the swaying of your bodies, his breathy tune filling your soul with the warmth it so desperately desired.