She'll Be The Death Of Me
*Loki's Perspective*
'Jesus, Tony its freezing in here! Did you piss off the maintenance team again?' I lifted my head to see her, the owner of the exasperated voice, stomp into the common area. She was bundled in a rather adorable fashion, at least three layers on top and two on the bottom that were visible.
'I'm working on it, Samantha!' Tony called back at her (I didn't recognize the witch character he was referencing), pivoting and point to the phone held up to his ears before walking out the door, turning his attention back to whoever was on the other side of the line. I looked back to her as Tony left us alone in the common area. Her jaw was clenched as she held back shivers. Her nose and cheeks were bright red.
I gave a small laugh at the sight of her, 'I thought you liked the cold?'
She huffed, 'Not this cold! How are you not freezing? You're in a tee shirt.' She furrowed her eyebrows.
Adorable.
I smiled. Not my mediated smile, my real smile. It was reserved for her eyes only. 'Cold blooded, remember? Here,' I conjured a sweater from my room and handed it to her, 'Its enchanted, it will keep you warm.' She looked at me like I just gave her the best news of her life. I thought for a moment about how I don't think she was used to people giving things to her.
She stripped off the first two layers of sweaters she was wearing to reveal the long sleeved shirt she was wearing underneath. As she stretched to lift my sweater over her head, her shirt lifted and I could see a few inches of skin. I averted my eyes for a minute, mostly out of curtesy for her but also out of repentance for the blush that formed on my cheeks. My sweater was quite a bit larger on her and it hung of her body in a captivating manner. She sighed and pulled her arms around herself, leaning into the warmth with her eyes closed and a faint smile.
I smiled too, even though she couldn't see it.
'You can keep it if you like, for the next time Tony disappoints you.'
She opened her eyes and laughed a little. 'Thanks Loki,' She stepped towards me and pulled my face down for a fleeting kiss on my cheek. My breath hitched but before I could properly process entirely how the gesture made me feel she was already walking past me saying, 'Do you want to watch a movie? I feel like on particularly cold days you're supposed to watch a movie.' With my back still towards her, I absentmindedly brought my hand to my cheek where her lips were a few seconds ago. Keep it together you idiot.
I turned towards her and started to follow, 'Sure, I'm bored anyway.'
***
Bundled under no less than three blankets, she picked up the remote as I made tea for myself, and coffee for her. Two cream, two sugars, and only dark roast because 'Coffee was meant to taste like coffee, but there's no harm in actually enjoying it'.
I joined her on the couch and after handing her her mug, she threw the 3-plus blankets onto me so that we were sharing them. 'I know you're cold blooded, but you'll catch a cold if you keep walking around like that' she said, referring to my tee shirt.
'Gods don't get colds. Have you picked anything yet?'
She hummed in response and then said, 'Yes, and its one of my favourite's so you're not allowed to make fun of it.'
I smirked, 'Me? Make fun? Absolutely not.'
I lived for the little laugh that she gave. Her laughs were never loud or intrusive; they weren't meant to take up space.
The screen flashed a title, Dead Poet's Society.
She was a peaceful person to watch a movie with. She didn't interrupt with small talk, just gave the occasional hum. This, I've learned, is her way of telling me that either something important is happening or something she loved was happening. Throughout this movie, it was mostly in context to things she loved.
It was a beautiful film that seemed to romanticize it's bare ideologies of life through poems and literature.
It also seemed to be rather heartbreaking. These humans were forced into very mundane lives, and when they challenged it they were punished. It seemed to me that they were trying to say that, although living life to their fullest capacity was ideal to them, it was not always possible.
I studied her face quite a bit when I thought she wouldn't notice. I didn't care much about the film, I cared about why she cared about the film. I wanted to see on her face all the emotions that the movie gave her to make that pleasant hum.
However, she did notice me watching her. Without looking at me her put her hand on my leg, 'pay attention' she said with annoyed sincerity.
She never moved her hand away.
I was happy she didn't.
I almost felt guilty. We were friends. Good friends. Good friends don't think things like this about each other.
The ending was abrupt. The entire film was sanguine, the ending was stark and cold in contrast.
I turned back to her and furrowed my brow, 'are you... crying?' I said it in near disbelief.
She looked at me, obviously embarrassed, 'No,' she said sternly. 'Absolutely not.' She wiped a stray tear on the sleeve her sweater, my sweater, and gave a small sniffle.
I laughed a little and she gave me a sour look, 'oh, no dear, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at your stubbornness.' I smirked.
She moved her hand from my leg, damn, to give me a playful shove, 'you're infuriating' she huffed.
I laughed again, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on it.
When I did things like this, I never know I'm doing them in the moment. It feels like habit, like these are the things I'm supposed to do, and should have been doing for the past few thousand years.
Just friends.
I convince her that we need to put on a happier movie; mostly so that her tears don't linger, but also because I wanted to spend more time here with her.
At some point she curls up on the couch under our blankets, putting her legs over my lap and resting them on the couch. It takes everything in me to not let her see how pleased I am with how comfortable she was to be near me. We were far from Iowa.
I felt her head gently hit my shoulder. My breath hitched. After a minute, I realized she was snoring lightly.
I shifted, so my arm was around her instead of pinned under her dead weight, and let my body relax.
Just friends.
I turned my head towards her, her hair smelt like lavender.
Just friends.
I breathed her out again, turning away to let her sleep.