Behind the Mask (Loki)

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One target stood across from him, seemingly taunting him with how easy it should be to hit.

One large circle, a single focus. The easiest target to hit.

Loki hurled a dagger at the target furiously.

He missed.

His mind was still watching Thor kiss Sif. It replayed, over and over, forever burned into his memory now.

He'd seen them kiss before, but he hadn't really paid attention, hadn't let it bother him. Yet this had sparked something inside; had bothered him.

When Sif had gone, leaving Thor alone, Loki had rushed in to tease him. Thor had brushed him off, saying someday Loki would understand.

The issue was that Loki did understand. He knew the same feelings, but secretly. Hidden away from everyone- even her.

Loki had merely continued teasing, skirting around the issue, dancing around what about it had really bothered him, yet somehow Thor had seemed to know that there was something else. That Loki wasn't saying everything.

He had stopped Loki, telling him that if he had something to say, to just say it.

Loki had only laughed, claiming he simply found it funny to tease his older brother over his teenage romance. That was it.

But Thor was right. That wasn't it.

Loki did have something to say. Something he had no right to.

He threw dagger after dagger at the target, yelling wordlessly with each toss. No one else was here. It was empty. No one was nearby.

No one could hear him.

Still throwing out his daggers, he said it. Screamed it. Put the thoughts to words.

"I love Sif. I love her."

His dagger hit dead center.

"But she loves you."

A raw, bitter fury laced with pain accompanied the words.

"I want her." A sob escaped behind it, the anger fading to hurt.

"I want to be you."

A whisper- not a shout.

His final dagger hit the floor beside his boots, and he sat down, tears falling.

Loki teased Sif, annoyed her. Drove her absolutely insane.

Loki loved her.

Sif loved Thor, and Thor, Sif. Loki loved Sif, too; no one loved him.

He adored teasing Sif with flirting, always hoping someday it would become real.

That she would admit she'd like his kiss as much as he had hers. That she thought of it just as often.

She wouldn't, he knew.

Especially not after that kiss with Thor.

Thor would always be best- best at fighting, at pleasing, at loving, at everything.

Thor would be best for Lady Sif. He would always be great, and Loki was overshadowed. Unseen.

The trickster brother. The younger, quieter, joking brother of Thor.

Loki Odinson- the second son. Second best.

The extra son of the king of Asgard.

He picked up the fallen dagger, once again aiming for the target. He had to let all his feelings out somehow.

"I love you, Sif." He whispered against the dagger, then slowly, gently, he let it go.

It hit the center, knocking out his first hit. Loki brushed at a tear on his cheek, then rubbed his eye, annoyed with the tears that saw fit to fall down his face.

A woman's voice echoed into the room.

"Loki? Did you call me?" Sif appeared.

Loki could have cursed. Almost did.

She caught sight of him, suddenly looking slightly worried.

In a snap, Loki erased the tears with an illusion, grinning.

A mask of himself.

A happy, carefree laughing, Loki. Not a real Loki, but a better one.

Sif's face changed instantly, and Loki almost regretted it. What would she have done if he had been crying?

Would she have cared for him? Could she love him if she saw him? If he was serious?

He shook away the thought. No. She wouldn't, and Loki wasn't weak.

He didn't cry- specifically not in front of Lady Sif.

"Nope. I didn't. But if you go back out, I'll call you in." Loki winked.

Sif rolled her eyes.

"Ugh. You..." She shook her head. "I'm going."

The concern flickered over her eyes once more.

"You good?" She watched him.

Loki flashed a smile, eyes dancing.

"Never been better." He grabbed her hand, spinning her around.

"Loki, knock it off." She shrugged loose, eyes narrowed.

Loki smiled. "Bye-bye!"

He waved. She started to turn, and Loki's smile faltered. Sif left with no further question.

Being a good liar wasn't always as helpful, as good, as it appeared.

It was hard.

With no reason to doubt, people believed the truth he wanted them too.

If no one could see through a lie, they wouldn't demand the truth.

And he would never tell on his own.

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