Collection of One-Shots

》safe and sound

She smiles at me as we walk the two flights of stairs to the floor with our apartments, only the smile does not reach her eyes and the bruise that lingers on her cheek is unsettling, but somehow it does not diminish her beauty. Few words are exchanged between us but I pause before pushing my door open and glance to the room next to mine. Her petite form is hunched over and when she steps forward there is a limp in her step that I had only just noticed. I bite my lip for a moment and speak up. "Would you like to come over for tea, Gracie?"

For a moment she stalls, pulling the strap of her purse tighter on her shoulder. "I -I, that sounds nice, Loki, but I can't stay long." She sounds fearful as she answers the question and does not dare to lift her eyes, which I had noticed to be azure, tucking her key back into her pocket she steps toward me and I wish nothing more than to protect her small form from all the horrors in the universe. She enters ahead of me and waits in the small hall for me to lead her further into my apartment.

The copper kettle is quickly placed on the stovetop and then I am rummaging through a small basket on the counter finding that there was only two types of tea left. "Earl Gray or Black?"

"Black, please." Her voice is meek and she nervously plays with the hem of her shirt in silence until I set the cup of tea in front of her.

"If you do not mind my curiosity, how did you bruise your cheek?" I drop a sugar cube into my mug and lazily stir until it dissolves.

"I slipped in the shower." I know it is a lie, for I am the god of them, but it rolls off her tongue with ease. She is a practiced liar, or perhaps she thinks me to be naïve to the point where I would not put together that the two purple lines look like fingers. "I'm a klutz." Her laugh is nervous and I know it to be another lie, as I had cast a curious glance into her open door once, she had numerous pictures of her in ballet costume, perfectly poised on the tips of her toes.

She slowly sips on the tea, constantly checking the time on her mobile device and then it vibrates obnoxiously on the wooden surface of the table. Her face pales and not even the artificial blush on her cheeks can return her glow. Where are you? Reads the message, I simply sip on my own mug of tea, hardly wishing to intrude and become intrusive towards her.

"Thank you for the tea, Loki. But I have to go now." She had hardly drank more than a quarter of the contents but she stands and clutches her key tightly against her chest as I open to door for her. She casts a wary smile before entering her apartment, the door already unlocked. An hour passed before I sat back down at the table with a meal and noticed the black bag hanging from the back of a chair. Her purse, she had left in haste and forgot the bag.

I knock on her door, but it is not a petite woman that answers. He is the picturesque definition of a ruffian and it is hard to imagine that a lady like Gracie would associate which such a man. "Is Gracie here? She left this in my apartment." His lips lift up into a sneer and he snatches the bag from my hand.

"I'll give it to her." His voice is practically a snarl and his breath reeks of alcohol, the door slams in my face. It takes several minutes before I return to my own living room, a book open in my lap. It was one of the ancient tomes that my mother had allowed me to bring to Midgard during this exile. Hours easily passed as I turned page after page, reading over the words that over the years I had partially memorized and then I hear it. A cacophony of noises and the wailing of Gracie is followed by the slurred shouting of the pig she claimed to be a suitor.

I am on my feet within seconds and entering the neighboring apartment with little regard for controlling my strength as the door comes away from the hinges. His hand is raised and Gracie is clutching a bloodied nose and split lip. When the man turns to look for the intruder I am already behind him, my hand around his wrist, hardly even squeezing  the joint but still it breaks with a muffled snap. He fights back but the kick to my shin is comparable to a toddlers, snarling I push him into the wall, hand curling around his neck. "I would not lay a hand on her again if I were you. I can make you suffer in ways you've never even dreamt of and I would savor every second of it. Do you know who I am mortal?"