The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 11

Warning! A lot of sexual content and an extra long chapter ;) Please let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts <3

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Pockets of night sky peep through the glass where the snow is thinner—allowing the igloo time to heat and melt it away. Leaning back on the bed with the fur pulled over your legs, you stare through the gaps—conscious of Loki doing the same by your side.

You'd eaten and drank a little more, a warm content feeling now settled in the pit of your stomach as you try to make out the stars above. But it's impossible. The snow is still wild, bouncing any light off the tumbling flakes and keeping the stars hidden.

"Where do you live?" you ask softly, focusing on the sky above.

The question catches Loki off guard, his eyebrows knitting for the briefest moment before he turns to look at you. "Where do I live?"

"Yes. Your home. Where do you come from?"

"Uh..." He swallows and turns back to the igloo glass. "It's far from here. You wouldn't have heard of it."

It's your turn to frown. "And I'm assuming you don't live with your parents..."

For each passing second that he doesn't reply, his heart thumps faster in his chest. Where is she going with this? The urge to read her mind is greater than ever. "Why would you think that?" he asks cautiously.

"Well, you know...you're older than me," you state as if the answer is obvious. "And also, you were so opinionated about me getting away and doing my own thing...I just figured you must live somewhere like a city."

Loki exhales slowly. "I do live in a city. But I suppose you could say I live with my mother and father. Though sometimes I rarely see them."

At that, you turn over to face him, propping your head on your hand. "What?" The confusion is clear on your face. "You don't see them?

"Well, you could say the...house...is quite extensive."

Oh.

He seems the type to live in some big place—somewhere that matches his attitude. It must be why my life seems so strange to him sometimes. Why would he understand living in here in almost complete isolation if he's used to something much grander? It did make sense. "What are your parents like?" you ask without thinking.

"Do we have to talk about this?" he says, his voice suddenly sharp. It pins you to the bed. "I'm nothing like them. That's all there is to it."

Stunned, it takes you a moment to recover. "So you freely give your opinion about my family, but I'm not allowed to hear anything about yours?"

"Exactly."

You sit up in bed, heat filtering through your brain. "You're infuriating, you know that, Loki? I thought we..." We what? Were becoming closer? You shake your head. "Why should I give you anything of myself if you give me nothing in return?"

When he doesn't answer—doesn't even move—you shove the fur away and swing your legs over the side of the bed. "Okay, that's fine."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going home."

Loki laughs, sitting up too. "Don't be absurd, Y/N. The snowstorm has blocked the entryway."

You whirl around, glaring at him. "I can dig, can't I?"

His eyes travel slowly down your body before resting on your bare legs—remembering how it felt when you wrapped one around his waist. "You're going to dig through the snow wearing just my shirt?"