Chapter 23
It was the strangest feeling, to know one’s life without remembering it physically. To know every person…know their faces, their voices, their histories—yet, if he wanted to remember what it felt like to knock snow onto Cerys’ head, or to have his shoulder burned terribly to protect her, he couldn’t. He only knew that it happened, felt the rushing impact of it once over again, while seeing it in his mind’s eye.
Evidently, Cerys bore no physical memories of most of her life’s events. She’d explained that she too, could not exactly recall the physical sensations of various moments of her life—including the first time they’d been together. Perhaps Loki had once had such keen remembrance because he was a god. Cerys only knew what had happened in certain fashions, and that seemed to be enough for her.
Meanwhile, Loki’s unbridled, inexplicable feelings for the only woman left in his life were the first things to come into focus. All the strangeness he’d faced before regaining the memories of their past made sense—when he looked at her, he placed her smile to the peacefulness he felt. Her sarcasm to the twitch of playful aggression. Her intelligence to his intentness. Her history to his simmering possessiveness. Cerys was no longer an ‘entity’—she quickly and aptly became his life’s central constant. An anchor of stability. Her patience with his failings and frustrations—even before his memory loss—was decidedly remarkable.
It was like taking a breath of fresh air, following that first night. The events of the week prior had made sense. And as the following weeks and months went by, things felt more normal with each passing day—save for the physical symptoms.
The aggression and headaches still reared their faces at times. Both made better by their nights together, as Cerys never refused Loki. He had merely to turn over in the middle of the night, and gently ease her from sleep with intent caresses that sent little bumps rolling over her skin. He could cage her against the bed, slide atop her smaller frame, and demand her half-sleeping attention with ease—and if the subsequent sounds were any indication, she loved having him between her legs.
Every caress, every kiss and thrust was laced with protection, love, closeness, and…dominance. These days, Loki desired her desperately—more, not less, despite the fact that their encounters were almost nightly. And they had become just that—a desperation. Whatever Loki felt once, he couldn’t imagine it was any stronger than the spectrum of emotion when Cerys was both near and far from him.
She was intelligent. Whatever trials and tribulations they’d faced alone—and together—fostered a person capable of formulating the most insightful perspectives on all of life. She was kind… A quality Loki never thought twice to appreciate before, not in anyone else. On his worst nights, when the rage pounded and headache throbbed, she never refused the simplest touch. Never recoiled when he hoisted her onto his lap, and buried his face into her neck for no reason. This woman…she was a reservoir of patience. A goddess of kindness.
And that was why he fought so ardently when he’d returned from Norway—he would have lost his senses to have given up.
On the third night of the seventh month of living under her roof, Loki quirked a brow as Cerys strode into the room, ready for their outing that very same evening. His eyes scraped down the length of her as she strutted into the kitchen, clad in a form fitting, little black dress that eased into lacey strings at the bottom—bouncing around her legs as she walked. A black trench coat had been thrown over it all, and the lightness of her hair contrasted beautifully against it.
Evidently today was her friend’s birthday, and there was a celebration of sorts being held in Stark tower. He rose from his seat on the couch and sauntered across the room to her, while she chewed on her lower lip, tapping away at her phone. She ignored him as he leaned on the counter beside her, fiddling with the fringes of her dress, and even tucked her hair behind her ear.
Finally, she looked up at him. “You ready to go?”
Loki had to force a bit of a smile at that, smoothing her hair down. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Cool, let’s get going then.”
Ordinarily, Loki might’ve asked her to stay home—knowing she’d likely agree—but tonight would have been a strict rejection. It was a special occasion, after all. Very special.
It took all of thirty minutes for their car to arrive at the street below, and take them over to the tower. And the moment that Loki stepped through the elevator doors with Cerys in tow, he could feel the eyes on him. Many had retained their grudges for his original attack on New York, and a number of them had been made aware of his role in the last one.
Not that he was any kind of leader for A.I.M—not yet, as he’d thought he would be—but there were many that didn’t believe the stories about his memories being stripped from him. It was easier to comprehend that he was a monster, through and through, to the very core.
In many ways, they were right. Cerys kept the aggression at bay, but it was a struggle when he remained away from her for long periods of time—hours, even. His tolerance for the intervals had grown slowly as the months went by, but they never diminished fully.
This also did not preclude her from the abuses of others’ opinions.
Not unlike the glimmers of dourness that splayed across several of the partygoers’ faces when they walked in. Alcohol and friendly banter weighed heavily in the room, and as Loki’s eyes darted from Cerys’ kindly expression to theirs, he would have happily ripped their faces clean from their skulls for daring to look at her in such a manner.
Stark merely glanced at him as they approached, offering a cordial nod—nothing more as the ladies exchanged excited greetings, and poured over the gifts received that evening. It was rather lengthy, considering they’d only seen each other just the other day.
“Have you seen my brother?” Loki finally turned to Stark, who merely gave him a plain look, and gestured in the opposite direction.
“There.”
“Thanks,” Loki said tersely, leaving his woman behind with her friend to follow in the direction he’d indicated.
It only took a moment for Loki to spot him in the crowd, along with Sif and Heimdall. They’d obviously been discussing something pleasant as he approached, and all three of their faces shifted a little when he walked up to the group.
“Loki,” Thor patted him on the shoulder. “Good to see you, brother.”
“Is it?” he smirked. “You all are looking a little sullen just now.”
“Nothing to do with you,” Heimdall said.
“If you say so.”
“Well, that’s…that’s not entirely true,” Thor said, casting the others a look. “Our return home is overdue, and we’ve been discussing options to return to Norway together—”
“No.” Loki interrupted him, barely giving the careful thought that his brother obviously thought this would incite.
Thor arched a brow slightly—though he hardly looked disappointed. “No?”
“No.”
“I…I assume you’re implying you want to stay here,” He glanced across the room, presumably in Cerys’ direction. “With Lady Cerys.”
“That’s right.”
Caution seeped into Thor’s expression. “Perhaps you should discuss this with her first, brother.”
“I can do that,” Loki said, looking back over his shoulder at her. “Tonight.”
“Perhaps not tonight, Loki—it’s like to upset her. Now’s not the time for it.”
“I will discuss it with her in another fashion. She won’t even realize it.”
All four of them fell silent. “What do you mean?” Thor finally asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m worried, brother.”
“Don’t be,” Loki looked back at him. “I have ulterior plans tonight. I shall discuss this with her then.”
“Ulterior plans?” Thor furrowed a brow. “And what might those be?”
“None of your concern,” he said smoothly, a wry grin tugging on the corner of his mouth.
***
Loki moved in to my place. Which had a number of implications at first. He never frightened me, or made me feel intimidated, but there was a whole ton of moodiness to contend with, which often led to silent evenings and midnight walks—ones that he took alone. At times, his own frustration would get the better of him, and he almost seemed annoyed that I wasn’t so willing to lash out at him for it.
As if I was supposed to blame him for what happened.
It was rough in the beginning, but things steadily improved in an exponential fashion—thankfully. He needed to actively work on what was happening, and so he did…presumably the more he figured it was affecting me negatively. Which it was, and wasn’t, depending on the night. There were undoubtedly moments when I had to curb my own frustrations and tire, just to help him get away from his. And from there, we fell into a routine pretty easily.
We began leaving the house, showing up in places and gatherings together. We’d revisited so much of New York in those early stages, reminiscing on everything that had happened. Stark tower was one of the places he still had trouble visiting, but no more than before—whether he realizes that or not. Tony and Loki were never two peas in a pod.
The looks I’ve been getting, though—even tonight, at Pepper’s birthday party—have made casual socialization a bit of a problem. They’re not particularly new, but still so unpleasant to know that someone’s smile is a straight lie to my face. It’s unfortunate that people have some conception of any business in my personal life, but…I suppose I understand.
Not that I would change any of it.
For all that the past few months have been difficult, they’ve also been enriching. Every now and again, we come across a blank in Loki’s memories, but only a few of them are truly significant… While I wouldn’t call his encounter with Rita significant, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t satisfying to know that he has no memory of that, either.
“Cerys,” I hear his dulcet tone over my shoulder, and only then realize that I’d been staring off blankly into the skyline.
I’ve spent all of fifteen minutes leaning against the wall over in the corner, not having fully realized just how occupied I’ve become with my own thoughts. After all the initial greetings and celebratory gestures, I was set loose, pushed this way and that by the onslaught of well wishing industry colleagues, until I wondered off on my own. And just like always, they related back to Loki in some form or another—even the ones about going back to the Academy, if they’ll have me.
“Hey there.” I offer a weary grin. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” he answers, snaking a hand over my shoulders, with a decidedly content expression.
Slowly but surely, his hand slides down along my side, and he steps in—dipping his head down for a kiss. Like a couple of teenagers in the corner of a party. His lips are soft as ever, caressing mine in a gentle, chaste kiss—shielding me slightly from the room’s view. And when Loki pulls back, the very same look remains solidified in his features.
His lips quirk upward. “We should go.”
“We’ve only been here an hour…” I murmur back, eyes flicking down to his lips momentarily.
“We’ll come back,” Loki says, glancing out at the skyline himself. “But there’s something I wish to discuss with you—and the night is warm, we should take advantage of it.”
I glance out at the balcony. “I remember the last time we took a ‘walk’ up here…” I say, reminiscing on the last time Loki followed me onto that balcony—to give me a birthday present. The diamond bracelet that I still wear occasionally. With a smirk, I look back up at him, vaguely remembering how he’d apologized to me out there for his awful behavior. “I remember the first time, too."
Loki’s eyes flickered with discomfort. “I…don’t remember that well.”
Unsurprising, considering how shaky my own memory of that night is. I couldn’t recall our exact conversation if I wanted to, so naturally, neither can Loki. “That’s alright,” I say, brushing my hand over his collar to flatten its creases.
He grins a bit sadly, fiddling with the ends of my hair between two fingers. “It is, isn’t it?” My smile falters a little at the ways his voice softens suddenly.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he shakes his head. “But I could use some of that fresh air.”
The ‘fresh air’ that he’s referring to turns out to be more than a simple walk—yet another trip out to Central Park, actually. The impulse to complain wars inside me with the impulse to just let it go, and with the light of New York streaming down on us through the trees, I opt begrudgingly for the latter. I’m meeting with Pepper tomorrow anyways, so it’s not all likely that she’ll get upset, but still…
“I’d ask why you wanted to come all the way out here,” I smirk in the dark, gripping his arm tightly with my own, “but that’d be old news.”
It really would. We’ve frequented Central Park a number of times over the past few months, and it’s almost always the same. The same path, the same, remote little bench, the same view of the city through the trees. It’s the optimal way to unwind after a strenuous day. Not exactly what I would call this lazy Saturday, but Loki’s headaches sometimes act up without his telling me…
“Old news indeed…” he mutters as we lower down onto the bench, trailing his eyes up to the tips of the trees. “The leaves will soon begin to fall.”
I glance around at the treetops above, nodding as I acknowledge the cold lick in the air with a heavy sigh. “Yup… And then, it’ll be no more walks.”
“…No morewalks?” Loki smirks incredulously. “Well I’ll come down here on my own, if I have to.”
I chuckle at the thought. “Oh you most certainly will—don’t worry, I’ll have tea ready at home when you come back soaking wet.”
“And if I’m not soaking wet?”
“Well,” I shrug. “Then maybe I’ll give you a hug too.”
Loki remains silent, eyes scanning the tree line slowly—as though deep in thought. I take the moment the enjoy the night, too—it’s just late enough that no one else is out here, and brisk enough to feel fresh against my skin. And with my arms tucked around Loki’s, I lean my head against his shoulder, letting him take my hand and rest it atop my crossed legs.
Finally, he arches a brow, tilting his head down toward me. “Is that all you’ll give me?”
I snort quietly. “Well, kisses cost extra. But maybe, if you’re nice about it. And if you don’t track any mud in.”
“And?”
I lift my head up to look at him. “What, you want a ride too?”
“Yes, always…” he mutters matter-of-factly, draping his gaze back down to the ground. “Anything else come to mind?”
I scoff amusedly, resuming my use of his shoulder as a headrest. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
Loki’s lips pull back into a soft grin, and he stares at the ground silently for a moment. With a gentle squeeze, he finally turns his head down toward me, until the tips of our noses are barely touching. “Your hand.”
A ton of bricks suddenly slams straight into me, sinking into my stomach like a heavy weight. I blink several times, as though I’d just jumped in and out of a stupor. “W—What?”
He disappears from my side, nestling just beside me on the ground—layering his hands over mine as he props himself up on one knee. Nestled as close to me as he can possibly get, I barely register the need to squeeze back against the pressure of his tight grip. Feeling stupefied by the piercing sliver of heaven glowing in my chest, my jaw drops slightly as I stare at him—unaware of what I must look like right now. Probably donning a look of daze and disbelief.
His soft expression is difficult to make out in this light, but with a flash of green light, the little emerald ring that appears in his hand glints in the skylight.
“A minute detail,” he mutters, turning it over in his free fingers, atop our clenched hands. “But I’ve had this for quite some time, now,” he quirks a brow amusedly, “My brother knew, though I don’t imagine he figured I’d use it. And I can’t place exactly when I’d gotten it, but… if you’ll have it,” Loki tilts the gem toward me, and I can hear the question in his tone—only now feeling the tears rise. “…and me.”
I’m strong and weak all at once, tumbling through every last second—every last detail—winding back to the first day we met, in the lobby of Stark tower. When I held out my hand to say hello to him, and he merely walked away. Fast forward years later, and the cold gaze he met me with that first night is melted away, leaving a pair of mildly anxious, loving emerald eyes studying me searchingly. Waiting for an answer.
Oh, right—he needs an answer…
I slide my hands out from his grip. A flicker of nervous apprehension darts sharply across his features, as he looks down at the movement. I grin a bit as his eyes dart around my hands, catching the slightest bits of movement before looking up at me—staring at me motionlessly as I pluck the ring from his grasp. Holding it in my hands a moment, Loki begins to match the soft smile stretching across my own face, following my gaze back down as I slip the little band onto my left ring finger.