ONLY FOR YOU | Loki

CHAPTER 38: SILVER SCREEN

"MOM IS GONNA LOSE IT," OLIVIA GRINS, GLANCING AT THE PASSENGER'S SEAT. Bruce chuckles, albeit a bit nervously.

"In a good way, I hope," he jokes feebly. Olivia shakes her head, her grin widening.

"Are you kidding? She'll be thrilled, Bruce," Olivia claims, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "I'll be surprised if she doesn't start bawling on the spot."

For some reason, that doesn't exactly make him feel much better.

"I, uh... haven't been back home in a while," he starts awkwardly, cringing a little. As if she didn't know that. "Maybe we can go see a movie at the old silver screen or something?" She shakes her head, making a face.

"They tore it down," she denies, with a small click of her tongue to show her disapproval. He turns to her, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.

"No way," he replies, more out of surprise than actual disbelief. She nods with a slightly exasperated expression.

"I know," she agrees. "Built a new WalMart instead." He lets out a long breath, slumping back in his seat thoughtfully.

"Remember when we went and saw Jaws there for your birthday?" he hums. She groans.

"Ugh, don't remind me," she complains. "I swear I still have nightmares sometimes." He laughs, nodding.

"You wouldn't even go to the pool for weeks because you were scared there'd be a shark," he recalls, amused. "Don't you still hate the ocean?" She nods reluctantly.

"A little," she admits. "I mean, to be fair to me, I have no idea why Mom and Dad let me watch so many shark-based horror movies. I was, like, 5." He shakes his head, heaving a sigh.

"Can't believe they tore down the old silver screen," he reflects, his expression distracted. Olivia nods.

"They had the best pizza," she recalls. Bruce glances at her, raising his eyebrows.

"Really?" he wonders, a little confused. "I remember it being, like, the greasiest pizza I've ever had." Olivia grins.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Like I said: the best pizza." He chuckles, and with a good-natured roll of his eyes, the car falls into silence.

One long pause later, Olivia starts to drum her fingers on the wheel. Bruce glances at her, but resumes looking out the window.

"...hey Bruce," she pipes up suddenly, snatching his attention "could you grab a CD out of my glove box?" He nods.

"Sure," he agrees, pulling open said glove box. "Which one?"

"The one that says 2011, please," she hums, glancing briefly at him to make sure he grabbed the right one. He pops the CD out of its case and loads it into the car's player.

After only about two seconds of reading the disc, the car's speakers start to play the opening of 'Want U Back' by Cher Lloyd.

"Sweet," Olivia hums victoriously to herself, "I love this song." She turns the volume up a little, humming along to it as she continues the long drive down the interstate.

***

"No no no, Santa isn't real," Olivia repeats patiently. "He's a story that people made up to convince kids to behave."

"So, let me get this straight," Loki sighs, looking both stressed and annoyed. "Christmas as a holiday is about... family, or something of the sort. However, it is also about an old man who delivers presents in the night— who does not exist—, and it is also a religious holiday, but its tradition was based off of the winter solstice traditions of other religions, whom the previously mentioned religion insists upon scorning," he summarizes. "Is that correct?"

"I mean there's also a bunch of other little stuff about generosity, tradition, and consumerism, but yeah, that's the important stuff," Olivia confirms, nodding once.

"I... much prefer the way we celebrate the solstice on Asgard," he sighs, rubbing his forehead. "I cannot understand this holiday." Olivia shrugs, tilting her head in acquiescence.

"Most of us can't either," she admits. "It's an excuse to visit family and exchange gifts, though, so..." she shrugs. He hums.

"Right," he recalls, "you said you were spending the next two weeks at your mother's home." He pauses for a moment, his expression darkening just slightly with distaste. "With Bruce," he tacks on, his nose crinkling just slightly.

"Yeah, sure am," Olivia sighs. "Mom cried when we got here; the waterworks were really sweet, but it was an 8-and-a-half hour drive, so we were a little tired for it."

"I can imagine," he hums. She rolls her shoulders a little, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch.

"I found that green crayon boy drawing from forever ago," she mentions. "Still in my old room." He looks at her in surprise, leaning forward a bit.

"Is that so?" he wonders, curiously. She nods, her fingers brushing lightly over the title embossed on the cover of the book in her lap. It's a copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles.

"Sure is," she confirms. "Taped to the wall." A long pause passes, and Olivia sits up a little straighter. "By the way," she mentions, "are you okay with me telling my mom about you sometime when Bruce isn't around?" He blinks twice.

"You... want to tell your mother about me," he states blandly. His mind is fumbling a million miles a minute for some sort of reasoning; something that would make this make sense.

"Yeah," she shrugs. "Be more convenient that way; won't have to make shit up when I talk about you." His brows furrow in bewilderment.

"Talk about me?" he repeats. "What, like— like we're friends?" She raises her eyebrows at him slowly.

"That depends," she replies, "is this a friend thing? Cause I kind of assumed it was more of a..." she trails off, shrugging. "I mean, either way is fine with me."

His head is spinning right now. This is so bizarre. This is— what is this? Is this reality? Did his magic fail? Is his mind playing a trick on him, conjuring a dream that looks far too much like the real thing?

"I—... it's... either is also fine with me," he manages, reeling still. He presses his hands to his face; oh this is too much, he has no idea how he got here. Is he just not understanding her meaning correctly?

"Are you okay?" Olivia questions, brows furrowing a little with concern.

"Yes," he sighs, pulling his hands away from his face. "I am fine, you just keep surprising me and I'm not certain how to react." She grins, and then shrugs.

"If it helps, you'll probably get used to it eventually," she volunteers.

That doesn't help.