• XIII •

31 2 14
                                        

▪︎ the old therebefore ▪︎

1910 - 1945, Asgard

Y/n

The corridor was near silent if it hadn't been for the faint rustle of fabric as Loki leaned closer. His hand was bracing against the cold stone wall besides my head. His touch was light, teasing, as though he had all the time in the world to make me wait.
His lips hovered over mine, tentative and sly and so very entrancing.

'You're impossibly distracting,' he murmured, voice mischievously low and rich with pretend dissatisfaction.
'And yet here you are,' I replied, my fingers occupied with curling into the fabric of his training leathers and pulling him closer. 'Thoroughly distracted.'
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his emerald eyes glittering with mischief and lust. 'Well, would I still be worthy of my princely titles were I to simply ignore the helpless cries of a fair damsel in distress? And that right outside my very own chambers.'
'First of all,' jabbing my forefinger to his chest, I earned a pained expression from the prince before me - clearly wounded beyond measure - as I plead my case.
'The joyous exclaim one makes upon finding their long missed favoured pair of combat boots returned to their door is far from a cry of distress. Second of all, see this hall? This portrait of my grandfather here? You were the one standing right outside my chambers, lover boy.'
Another jab to the chest. Though this time he'd caught my finger in the process. Smirking, Loki led it up to his lips, never breaking eye contact. Then he bit the tip gently before kissing it.
I was about to answer; to protest against the heat rising within from this very sight of him, when his lips encaptured mine in a searing kiss and words became but a distant memory. It was slow, deliberate, alltogether a masterful reminder of the absolute power he could hold over me.

But the spell shattered as soon as the first faint echoes of hurried footsteps reached us. Loki stilled, his head tilting ever so slightly as he listened.
'Someone's coming,' he whispered, the smirk in his voice betraying how little he cared for the interruption. 'Wouldn't want something similar from that debacle with Thor to happen again, no?'
The heated blush of embarrasment was still creaping upwards when he had already pulled me into the shadows of a narrow crevice, his arm brushing mine as we pressed ourselves into the darkness. I held my breath, my heart hammering in my chest as the footsteps grew louder.
At that, Loki simply attached his lover's lips to the pulse of my neck, sucking vigorously.

Mischief! I mentally cursed him as I, albeit reluctantly, pushed him off me.
Then the figure of a servant appeared, his steps hesitant as his gaze darted around the corridor.
'Prince Loki! A-and the Lady Y/n...'
I exhaled softly as Loki stepped into the light, his movements graceful and unhurried, as though he hadn't just been caught stealing kisses in some shadowy corner of the palace. I followed, smoothing the fabric of my tunic and fixing my most indifferent expression.
'And here I thought I might enjoy some peace and quiet with my darling protégé,' Loki drawled, folding his arms and raising a brow at the servant. All I did was drive my elbow sharply into his side at the reckless remark.

Don't you dare call me your protégé ever again, novice.
I snarled more than I admonished.

A dark grin. A flash of a new challenge, gone faster than it had arrived.
The man - a young attendant with a thin sheen of nervous sweat collecting on his brow - bowed low, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke.
'Forgive the intrusion, my prince, but His Majesty summons you to the throne room with the utmost haste.'
The servant's gaze flickered briefly to me, his discomfort plain as his eyes conveyed an apology to me.
'Very well,' Loki replied, his tone dripping with mock reluctance. He turned to me, his smirk softening into something more genuine, a daring force able to bend the nine realms to his will - and me, first and foremost. 'Shall we?'
I nodded defiantly, stepping forward. Though the servant paled visibly, his mouth opening as though to object, Loki merely gave a subtle tilt of his head, and the lad had already swallowed his words and scurried ahead to lead us.

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