The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 14

After your promised shower—in which Loki had joined and had incidentally led to another round of lovemaking—you prepare some food from the gift basket. Bread, cheeses, dried fruits and more wine. Despite being used to these sorts of things, you can't deny how much you're looking forward to hot meals again at home.

Home...I hope my father is okay...

You're sure he is—he's savvier than you when it comes to this stuff. But still, you can't help worrying—mostly because you know he'll be worrying about you. If you're okay...safe. Am I? It's debatable...

With the snowdrifts starting to give way, you're able to dig through the bulk of the snow by the door to check on the dogs. Thankfully they're fine—they're used to these conditions too. But you top up their food and water regardless before giving each of them a good scratch behind the ears.

The storm has pretty much passed now, but glades and glades of untouched powder have been left in its wake. They look like soft white pillows, draped across the horizon. In fact, it almost looks like civilisation has been taken to the clouds—a world in the heavens where only the tips of the trees can be seen.

"Come inside, Y/N," Loki says from the cabin doorway. He can't read the strange expression on your face, but it's clear your mind is full to the brim of turbulent thoughts. How he wishes to read your mind and find them out for himself. But despite promising not to do magic, he doesn't want to do that to you. You'll tell him when you're ready—and he'll wait patiently until then. No matter how difficult that might be.

"Do you ever feel like you're in an entirely different world?" you ask softly, staring up into the gradually darkening sky. The first burst of stars are starting to show their twinkling faces, and when you turn to look at him, Loki sees them reflected in your eyes. "Do you ever get that?"

Loki smiles to himself. "Often, actually."

"Really?" This time, it's your turn to be puzzled. The way the muscle dances in his cheek—how it seems he's longing to say something to you, to spill all his secrets. But what secrets would he have? In any case, he stays silent, hesitant. You climb the cabin steps, but he doesn't budge, so you're forced to stare up at him—a soft smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Is that what you want?"

You move even closer, pressing yourself against him. "Would I be asking if I didn't?"

With a frown, Loki cups your cold face. His kisses are slow, passionate—desperate, somehow. Like you might just disappear any second. You feel yourself frowning too. There's a strange atmosphere shift. Only a small one, but noticeable enough. Is he afraid of something? It sends a lick of fear up your own spine, causing the softened edges to become a little harsher. Is he trying to tell me something?

Taking your hand, Loki pulls you gently back inside, his lips never leaving yours. It's moments before you feel the softness at your back, your body becoming covered with Loki's as he guides you back down onto the bed. You hadn't even realised you'd moved from the door.

It's different this time. In the way his lips open yours, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to claim you but also to leave a silent message. For the life of you, you can't figure it out. Some alarmed part of you wonders if he's trying to say goodbye—that this is the last time he will kiss you like this...the last time his body would press you down...the last time his fingers would gently graze the fabric from your skin...the last time he would replace it with soft kisses.

It could make sense. The reality is clear as day. Neither of you expected this to happen. But now faced with the prospect of him leaving, you suddenly feel like the wind has been knocked from your sails. You reach for him, kissing him back fiercely, and when he finally breaks, panting, you see the hunger in his eyes.