LOKI IMAGINES

What You See

A continuation of "What You Taste Like" !!!

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It had been a few months since your... altercation with Sir Loki.

A good four months since you stepped out of that darned room he insisted he clean you up in. You still wished he had killed you then and there. Perhaps by then, you wouldn't be thinking of him day and night.

It had also been four months since you stepped outside in his shirt, blood along its collar, and declared the treacherous vampire lord as dead. Even though he was perfectly alive, a gray plume of smoke, drifting through the air.

Four months.

Yet not a day passes where you don't think of him.

You lie there awake at night, thinking about Loki. Has he changed his identity yet? Has he travelled outside of England to settle somewhere else? Has he found himself a nice and secure home to rebuild his empire?

So many thoughts and questions about him lay unspoken from your mind. And they should remain that way. No one has to know that you try to remember how he touched you that night. No one has to know your futile attempt in mimicking his sinful ministrations in your most private parts when you feel particularly lonely.

No one needs to know that.

If given the option, you'd ask the gods and all the devils to forget about it too.

You, however, shall carry the burden of that memory. With a pointless hope in your heart that you may see him again.

What will you do when you see him though? Thank him for such a wonderful night four months ago? Tell him you've been thinking about him during your every waking hour?

What in the hell were you going to do when you actually see him? It would only be a matter of time before Loki got his nimble hands on a lord that looked similar enough to him and claim his "inheritance".

He would definitely make quick work and-

"We must stop meeting like this." That excruciatingly familiar voice echoed in your mind. What were the chances, eh? Another ball, another meeting.

"Lo-"

"Ah, ah," he tuts. "I'd rather you call me 'Thomas' in public, darling. In case you've forgotten, I'm technically-"

"Dead." You continued for him. "Loki's dead."

"Indeed, he is," Loki replies, wordlessly holding up his hand as an invitation for you to take and dance with him again. Your eyes briefly flicker to his palm before slotting your hand in his.

Unlike before, where he quickly whisks you away to the dance floor, he shows you off quite dramatically this time round. He had your hand held high, parading you around the dance floor before claiming a spot somewhere near the middle.

"So," Loki begins. "If Loki is dead, what are you doing here, my sweet?"

"My hunts doesn't stop with the death of Loki, I'll have you know." You bore a knowing smirk across your face. Loki feels your gaze leave him and dart somewhere beyond his shoulder.

"There," you say quietly. "Lord Gideon Atwood."

Loki discreetly turns his head to follow your gaze. There, he sees a blonde man, whose hair was coiffed to the heavens. He had an unnatural pale palor like he did, but his eyes were bright red.