The Fates' Favorite (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 41

Loki's POV (Third Person)

Loki groggily hummed as he woke up the next morning, his brows furrowing as he opened his eyes.

He... Was on Midgard.

In Aurora's bed. Alone.

Shit.

He vaguely could recall the events leading up to his return.

How much had he had to drink?

Too much.

He had went back to his room, he remembered, a few hours after he began drinking with the warriors, not too long before the sun would rise. He remembered the noblewoman in his bed, waiting on him.

Whereas normally it was always in good fun, Loki was thoroughly disgusted by that fact. Even more disgusted that he had actually contemplated allowing himself to climb into bed with her.

Nobody should have been in his bed.

He didn't want anyone in his bed.

And in his drunken, frustrated state... He must ran back to Midgard. To Aurora.

The only one he'd want in his bed.

Then he found her on the balcony...

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

"Rory?!" He called towards the bathroom, nearly whimpering when he didn't get a response. He sat up quickly, taking a deep breath before he inevitably got up to apologize to her profusely once again.

Curse his drunken stupor. Curse his tongue. Curse his vile other form. Curse his incessant desire for her attention. Curse hi-

"Hi, Mischief!" The girl grinned from the hallway, expertly holding two plates of breakfast in her hands. "I made your favorite."

Oh.

Setting a plate on his lap, Loki smiled at the large slices of French toast with bananas and strawberries cut up on the top.

Loki cleared his throat, looking at her as she settled in beside him, a shadow carrying him a tea and another carrying her a coffee.

"Thank you."

"Of course." She smiled back, delicately balancing her fork between her fingertips to stab a bite of her French toast.

They ate in silence for a long few moments, though Loki's mind still ran a million miles an hour.

She looked happy, satisfied with his answers from the night prior. She seemed... back to normal. Completely normal, really. That oddly bubbly assassin he had gotten from the moment they met.

She was so much more than that first impression, so much more than the somewhat flirty, mischievous girl with a smile that lit up even that dark containment floor.

"About last night..." Loki stated with a clear of his throat. "I-"

"We don't have to discuss it any further, Lo." She stated clearly, looking at him with a same small smile. "We're okay now."

"We're okay?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Perfectly fine." She smiled wider. "Now, are you staying here for a bit longer, or are you heading straight back to Asgard?"

"I would enjoy staying for a bit, if that would be alr-"

"Perfect! Get dressed." She said as she immediately stood from the bed, sending a shadow into her closet for clothes. "We're going out, dress warm."