Chapter 39
Loki woke a few hours after Sylvie had first stirred and smiled softly at how she was nestled against him. He didn’t know what time it was but imagined they had slept rather late judging by the light coming in beneath the door.
He looked at Sylvie’s peaceful face, slack with deep and sound sleep and dreaded waking her. He leaned in close, breathing the warm scent of her skin as she slept and kissed her cheek tenderly.
When she didn’t stir Loki carefully extricated his arm from beneath her and went to shower. As he did he couldn’t help but think of all that had transpired the night before and felt worn out emotionally.
It had been rocky at first but the dinner had turned out quite well, and his mind wandered to how alluring Sylvie had looked in that dress. He smirked at how she had effortlessly impressed them all, yet according to her hadn’t particularly cared whether or not they had liked her.
Sylvie’s ability to cast off any sense of obligation for how other’s perceived her was one of the things he admired most about her.
Despite how he might act, Loki was constantly concerned with proving his intellect and charming everyone around him. He could claim it was merely a means to an end—but at the end of the day he craved validation.
Loki wondered briefly if she didn’t feel this because she felt accepted in her timeline as a child. His own feelings of inadequacy and rejection stemmed from his childhood in Thor’s shadow. They were then solidified by the knowledge of his true parentage—the extent of his otherness.
One consolation he felt was that the opinions of others now paled in comparison to the gravity of Sylvie’s perception. Like the volume of everyone else had been turned low, and the only words which came clearly where the ones uttered by her lovely lips.
Loki smiled softly at the thought of her lips, missing them already. He finished his shower and used his magic to dry and clothe himself before stepping back into the darkened room.
Sylvie was still in bed but he could tell from her breathing that she was now awake.
“Good morning,” he said softly as he approached, sitting with half his body on the bed to lean down and kiss her.
“Mmm, morning,” she said sleepily, a small smile on her lips.
“Feeling better?” He asked lightly.
“Completely,” she murmured, “so long as you can cure my hangovers I don’t think I’ll ever tire of your magic,” she teased softly, hand resting gently against his cheek.
Loki grinned and took her hand to kiss briefly, “you need only say the word, my magic is yours—just like me,” he murmured softly and leaned in to kiss the cheeky grin off her face.
“I don’t know when I stopped finding your hokey-ness so annoying…” she said softly against his lips.
“Mmm,” he hummed faintly, “love has made you sentimental… now you can’t help but enjoy it…” he teased between kisses.
Sylvie grumbled, “ugh, I really do… what have I become? What have you done to me?”
“Nothing you haven’t already done to me,” Loki smirked, “and quite frankly, not nearlyenough.”
“Mmm is that so?” Sylvie purred with a heated look, “well, I don’t know how—”
A knock came at the door and Loki huffed an irritated noise. His first instinct was to yell at whoever it was to go away, but as they were guests he realized that was probably not the thing to do in this instance. Sylvie gave him a soft, sultry kiss before she climbed out of bed.
“Go, answer the door, I’m going to take a quick shower,” she murmured.
“Fine,” Loki grumbled with a pout and headed for the door, “I’ll conjure you some options for when you get out.”
Loki sighed a heavy exhale, straightening up his appearance as he went to the door. He used his magic to turn the lights on in the room before opening the door. Natasha was there looking a bit worse for wear in the bright daylight which flooded the room.
“Good morning… Natasha,” he still wasn’t quite used to saying her name but she seemed to appreciate the effort.
“Morning,” she said tiredly with a huff, “group’s upstairs…”
“Are you feeling a bit—”
“Like death warmed over,” Natasha interrupted with a wince.
“Ah, may I?” He offered kindly, hand lifting tentatively.
“Just about anything at this point,” Natasha said, closing her eyes with a pained expression.
Loki touched her temple softly, green light transferring from his fingertips and slowly easing the pain. Natasha exhaled a heavy sigh of relief as the throbbing slowed till it was gone. Natasha’s eyes opened as her remaining symptoms drained from her head and queasy stomach.
“You’re really going to have to tell me how you did that one day…” she said absently.
Loki quirked a small smile, “magic—Natasha, plain and simple—do you feel better?” he asked patiently.
“I don’t think there’s anything plain or simple about that, but yes,” she said dryly with a small amused smile.
Natasha studied him intently, seeming to read things off him now which she had missed while still hungover. He shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny of the perceptive woman who could somehow see straight through any pretense.
She quickly absorbed everything from the room around him, the sound of the shower in the bathroom, to the nearly imperceptible creases in his attire and worry of his brow.
“Your brother needs a little of that magic touch,” she said casually.
Loki rolled his eyes, ever the weary little brother, “Of course he does, no surprise there,”
“He’s feeling a little disjointed—not sure if it’s the shock of being back here, or seeing you—but he could use a bit of one-on-one time I think,” she said softly.
Loki’s expression softened slightly, “Yes, he seemed to be overcompensating a bit—I’ll speak with him.”
“Good, when Sylvie gets out of the shower why don’t you two meet us in the commissary, it’s just up one floor, I’ll get Thor there if he isn’t already,” she smirked.
“We’ll be right there, thank you, Natasha,” Loki said gratefully.
Natasha smiled faintly and gave him a short nod before heading back down the hall.