It was set in the fine threads of Yggdrasil, that they were never to be with one another, or the world as they know would cease to exist. Loki's tired of it. He wants this more than anything. But will you give up your safety net? Could you risk it a...
You were wrong. You were so wrong. You were staring deep into the frost-spectre eyes of the man you once called your lover after he woke up and began to strangle you.
Perhaps that could be worded better. So here's the thing. you're sound asleep, dead as a rock, until you hear whimpering. These anxious noises wouldn't stop, so of course your much-needed slumber was disturbed, by none other than the god of Mischief.
His body was trembling, his neck twitching into all sorts of positions, "Stop it,"; "Not again,"; "Let me go," he cried, whispers of broken syllables. Just as he was.
You couldn't just let him suffer, your heartstrings would tear and you'd die along with whatever was going on with him. "Loki," you shook his body, after moving towards him in the cold breath of the room, "Loki!"
He still wasn't awake, so you crawled atop the bed, the soft mattress sinking in your movements as you sat over Loki's hips, shaking him awake from the night terror that held him in such a trance.
"Loki!" you shouted, and his bloodshot eyes swung open, the pupils shrunk, and his hands reached out to grab his attacker's neck. You caught his wrists before they could wrap around your throat and pinned them both to the headboard above him, "Loki, calm down! It's me!"
"It's me," you reassured him, "It's me, you're safe."
As the sight of the spaghettified word disappeared from Loki's main thoughts, he came to terms that he was in a room with you, in an inn in New Asgard. On earth. Nothing bad was happening. He was okay, you were okay. You didn't die. He fixed it. it was a nightmare.
"You're okay," his harsh ragged breathing was starting to find its space again, and he slowly started up towards you.
You were here, sitting on his lap, pinning his hands to the headboard after he tried to kill you. That's what he did to you, that night. you looked so lovely above him. You were alive. You came for him. You saved him from that horrendous nightmare. He tilted his hips, in incase his body decided to do something stupid.
Slowly you let his hands sink down, letting them rest on his pillow near his head, "Are you okay?"
"Not really, but I'm better now," he nodded, a small note of gratitude until he was struck by a wave of realisation, "I'm so sorry for disturbing you-"
"Loki, It's okay. I'll listen if you wanna tell me about it."
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep after that," Loki panted.
"Are you afraid of having a nightmare again?"
If the entire world sieved up into the strains of time in front of him, even after so long, even after he fixed the loom, could be called a nightmare, then you could be called a snail. It was so frustrating. and it felt so real. Too real not to feel anxious and traumatised by it.
You slowly moved over Loki's body, sitting up straight over his torso, and suddenly aware of the intimate position, you leaned forward and placed your head on his chest. wrapping your arms around him was the only thing you could think of that would bring comfort to the god.
It hurt your heart more than it should have. When you wanted him once, the universe told you no. It wouldn't tease you with a second chance, like holding a carrot on a stick like you were a dumb mule.
"Was it about the TVA?" you asked, not necessarily waiting for a reply.
Loki simply nodded his head, holding your body close to his. Fuck, he couldn't lose you. All those years, and then the trauma that made him forget it all.
He hated it. He hated the life he lived. Loki struggled to remember the past. So many bad things are suppressed. But along with those horrid memories, the lovely ones went too. He hated that he couldn't remember your laugh, your smell, the way your hand used to feel in his. The nights you spent studying with him for frigga's tests in his room, ultimately ending up in his arms in bed. So many things. So much pain. So much love.
You could hear his heart, thumping in furious unequal beats as his mind continued to race. You hated not being able to help him. To feel him.
"When you first saw me at the TVA, did you really not remember who I was?"
The question slipped out before you could catch your tongue. Fuck.
"Honestly, There was so much happening, I can't remember anything. I wish I could remember, I want to remember. I want to remember you."
Pulling at your heart, You couldn't do this anymore. You can't get hurt again. He wanted to remember you. But you're back on a timeline now. And whenever Loki was yours, the world Always seemed close to Armageddon.
"Go to sleep, Loki," you tried to ignore his statement, wishing that you hadn't asked. What answer would you have even liked?
"Good night, dove," Loki loosened his grip on you, thoughts of you returning to your original sleeping area running through his mind, but he was pleasantly surprised when you pushed him onto his side and slid behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, legs with each other, your hands interwoven with his. You were holding him in your arms, and Loki was not going to complain.
Maybe you could just hold him. Friends do that too. That's all you could be. Friends. Being friends with Loki never had consequences. It was all the same. It was just never meant to be. Until the end of time, you would never be able to have him.
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