Protego Totalum》Marvel one-shots

Perfect illusion. - Loki Laufeyson

Words: 1232

Warning: feels and angst.

A/N: low key *wiggles eyebrows* inspired by Sherlock season 4 episode 2.

[old one-shot]

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Loki turned the final page of the book he was currently reading. He didn't want to read the final words, he never wanted to, but he did it anyway. So the story was finally over, so he could immerse in another world.

"You know, you should really read another book."

His usually stoic face broke into a genuine smile, one he tried to hide but couldn't. Not a lot of people got to see this brilliant, happy smile, but luckily, you were one of those lucky persons who had.

"And why, exactly, should I do as you tell?" Loki asked once he had finished the last sentence of the book he held so dearly.

"You've read it more than five times in the past month", you jumped off the table you were sat on and walked closer to him. "I'm sure it's getting annoying."

"Absolutely not", countered Loki, gazing at you. "I could never be annoyed of my favorite story."

You laughed lightly, and the sound was like music to the god's ears. He could never have enough of this fantastic sound that made him feel warm inside. 

"So now, this", you pointed at the book Loki was still holding, "is your favorite book? May I ask since when?"

"Always."

"Meaniiing", you dragged out the 'i' as you sat next to him, on the library couch, "since I made you read it."

"That's a possibility", Loki slowly admitted, looking everywhere but at you. 

"Ah!" You raised your arms in the air in victory, "Knew it!"

"Let's not talk about it."

The god rose on his feet and went to choose his next book among the ones available in the numerous shelves of the Avengers' library. He was still hesitating when you joined him and, after only a second or so of looking through the books, showed him one.

"I already know I will hate it", Loki simply stated after reading the summary. 

"Trust me", you leant on the bookcases behind you, "you will love it."

Loki glanced back and forth between the novel you had just recommended him, his brow furrowed in hesitation. He was sure he won't enjoy this story, but yet again, he had greatly enjoyed the last one you had made him read.

"Trust me", you whispered, looking him in the eyes. "One more time. Trust me. Just this one. Just on this."

"How do I know you're not lying, as you did the last time?"

"Dixit the god of mischief." 

He glared at you and the smile that was on your lips a second before quickly faded away. You took a deep breath in and turned your attention on the bookshelves across from you.

"It's only a book. What's the risk?" You asked, still not looking at him.

"The risk is; and as much as I hate to  admit it, i have to tell you", he went back to the couch and there, took his time to take his place. "The risk is I, as you call me so well the god of mischief, end up heartbroken for the second time in the space of a month."