The Last Supper
I woke up, still curled in the covers and pillows I had wrapped around myself, the book pushed to one side, almost falling between the bed and the wall. The room was even dimmer than it had been when I entered it that afternoon, and I looked around, my eyes adjusting to being awake after a sudden nap.
“Go back to sleep, Autumn” Loki’s voice cut quietly through the dim room. “I have food for you but if you’re tired just sleep for a while.”
I could make out his silhouette on the couch, back towards me, hair coming down his back, long thin hands slowly turning the pages of one of the books I had put on the coffee table. The cold stone walls were deadening the sound, absorbing even Loki’s commanding voice, causing a hush to fall. It tired me out.
“I don’t know if I can sleep any more. I don’t even know how long I’ve been out.” I mumbled, embarrassed to have been caught napping.
Loki turned, looking at me kindly. “It’s ok to fall asleep here. There isn’t much to do, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t want to.”
“Then suit yourself.”
I untangled myself from the covers, straightened out the jeans I was wearing, untwisted my shirt, and walked over to the kitchenette to see what sort of things Loki had brought back for me.
Loki had clearly walked into Hel with some cash, because he had gone all the way to one of the best takeout places in our quarter of Hel. Inside beautiful takeout boxes, wrapped with string, was a spinach salad, braised salmon fillet, a side of asparagus, and rice. He had a warm thermos of coffee, a tiny vial of cream, and a bottle of mineral water. Next to the dinner he had set a glass and a mug. The last box contained a slice of flour less chocolate cake and a dessert fork. He had even pilfered (or been given...) a cloth napkin and real silverware.
I took each of the boxes to the tiny bistro table near the small window that was still shuttered and laid them out. “This is pretty amazing, Loki.”
“Thanks.” he mumbled, still flipping the pages of the book.
“You did a good job picking out dinner for me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Want to eat over here with me?”
“I already ate.”
“Then want to sit with me while I eat?”
He paused, looked at me. “Do you want me to sit with you while you eat?” I noticed sarcastic undertones.
I stared him back in the eyes.
“Yes. I do.” I said, with all seriousness.
He was taken aback by that, and I knew he had been expecting a sarcastic tone and a returning volley in our conversation.
I saw him rise, a little startled, and he walked over to the table and sat down in the other chair.
I handed him the dessert fork. “Feel free to steal.”
“Oh, I always do,” he said, picking up an asparagus with his fork.
“How’s life going for you?” I asked, trying to be casual. I wanted this to feel like a conversation between old friends but I had some sort of understanding that it could never be like that.
“Oh, just dandy.” he said, shortly. There was a little pause but I was determined to get him talking.
“What have you been up to since I last saw you?”
“Well, you know. Escaping Hel, coming back for you, and so on.”
I knew I needed to get just a little more specific if I wanted answers from him, or even just conversation. He wasn’t much of a talker, unless he was trying to manipulate you or get something out of you.
“What’s next for us? What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Well, Autumn...” He started. I knew I had hit upon the thing that he was willing to talk about.