Who Are You | A Loki Fanfic

18. It's the dress

Loki's POV

   "What about her," I point to a blonde in an obnoxious pink color dress. Thor with his cup of beer just shakes his head and takes a sip. "Oh come on brother, who will it be then? Oh yes this one with the black hair. She looks quite fetching," I lick my lips and raise my brows. 

   "Loki enough. I don't approach the girls," he pauses before continuing. "They come to me," he smirks. "So please, leave. You're making it look more intimidating for them to introduce themselves with you over my shoulder."

   "There he is," I pat his shoulder hard. "I'll be back," I say before wandering around the new place. The music they play here is not at all graceful. On Asgard they would play classical instruments. This, well this hurts my head. I plan to go some place more quite to relieve this headache. I stumble upon a library with a variety of different selections. I smile to myself before entering its beauty. Its an open space with shelves and chairs. The color scheme is soothing and compliments the light of the moon peaking through the windows. I grab one of the books from the shelves and take a seat by the window. I don't bother turning on the lights, I prefer it dark with just enough light from the window to be able to read. 

   A few moments pass and I start hearing footsteps coming from the end of the hall getting louder as they walk closer. 

   "Wow," a woman says in the shadows. I slowly close my book and sit up right. "Who's there?" the figure turns to my direction. She turns on the light and I'm shocked to see it's Ryanne. "Loki? What are you doing here? Why aren't you drinking with your pal, Thor?"

   "I wanted to get away from the crowd and then I came upon this place. You can run along now," I shoe her away with my hand and open the book I was reading. Instead of reading she sits down by me. 

   "What that in your hand?"

   I raise an eyebrow before sighing. "The Great Gatsby. Would you like me to read to you?" I joke. 

   She licks her lips then adjusts herself against the wall. Her legs stretch over my thighs. My eyes stay wide as she tries to make herself comfortable. Once she's finished she raises her eyebrows waiting for me to read. I shake my head then look back to where I had left off. 

   "I couldn't forgive [Tom] or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made," 

   I read slowly with a clear voice. From the corner of my eye, I notice her staring directly at me. It makes me a little nervous but I continue. 

...

"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. And then one fine morning. So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."  

   I sigh and shut the book close. I raise my head to see she hasn't turned her face from me. She was quite the whole time, just listening. 

   "So, Gatsby was a dick?" she breaks the silence. 

   "What?"

   "He did all of this for someone who was already with another man."

   "Yes but it was love."

   "Oh please," she removes her legs from me. "Love," she scoffs. "Look where that gets you. In the end it was all for nothing. She chose Tom, not Gatsby."