chapter 7- nightmare
The sun was setting, the soft glow a halo around his silver hair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He wore plain white, the sea breeze ruffling his clothes slightly, golden sand warm beneath their toes.
They were at the beach they had visited before, except this time there was no one else. No sound of screaming children or laughing tourists. Just them. Mobius turned to face them, eyes meeting theirs, filled with fondness and openness. He held out his hand, pulling them, laughing, under the pier. They were so close. Fingers interlaced and faces near.
Mobius pushed them until their back was against a pillar, eyes on their mouth. He drew closer, lightly keeping their wrists above their head, chests pressing against one another, sharing a heartbeat. He drew his head nearer, hot breath tickling their neck, laughing at the way they squirmed.
“Tell me what you want, Kitten,” he breathed, lips ghosting their neck.
He continued his path leaving soft kisses up to their ear, nibbling their earlobe. He moved, lips millimetres away from theirs, eyes flicking back to theirs.
He said something, muffled by the sudden roaring of the sea behind.
“What?” They said.
Mobius dropped their wrists, stepping back. Blood poured from his body, soaking his white clothes. His eyes looked up at them, hurt and anger and betrayal.
“This is your glorious purpose, Loki, wherever you go it’s just death, destruction.” He fell to the ground, the grey sea swirling and crashing around them.
They screamed.
In his back, lodged, was their dagger.
They tried to reach him, tears mingling with the salt of the sea, the roaring getting louder and louder, waves preventing them from moving. The sand sucked their feet in, dragging them down. Water poured into their mouth, their nose, their eyes, drowning them with the remnants of Mobius’ blood.
Blackness.
Loki sat up with a gasp, sweat soaking his pajamas, shivering. It was still dark. He tried to calm his breathing, eventually getting them to small, shaky inhales. Wrapping the thin duvet around him, he turned on his side and cried. It was possible that perhaps he loved him.
Loki loved Mobius.
An impossible pairing, forbidden by every force in the universe, so outrageous it was never on the timeline. But what was on the timeline was what happened the few times Loki allowed themself to love someone. They fucked it up. It was their destiny. Anyone who’d care for them died.
Mobius was right; that was Loki's glorious purpose.