Words: 2,638
Warnings: smut
Valentine’s Day. The one holiday you could gladly skip over, if given the chance. It was the day of love, and even though you were happy for those who had found that special someone, the atmosphere was almost suffocating.
It was usually the one event Tony didn’t plan a party for, but as he brought out bottle after bottle of champagne to be stored in big red tins, you knew this year would be different. You had agreed to help set up, but every time Tony asked you if you’d changed your mind about attending, the answer remained a firm no.
“She has a rendezvous tonight, surely.” Came Loki’s smooth drawl from behind you.
Heaving a sigh, you didn’t bother turning around to face him. He’d been referring to a boyfriend you did not have all week, and it was driving you mad.
“Oh?” Asked Tony, who was now pouring ice into the tin baskets. “You could’ve just said so, Reindeer Games Jr.”
You threw your hands up in frustration. “I don’t have a date!“ Tossing the napkins aside, you turned to push past Loki and leave the room.
“Your boyfriend did not invite you out, then?” Loki asked, obviously following behind you.
“Loki, I swear to God. If you don’t stop pestering me about this, I’ll—“
“Tell your boyfriend?” He mocked, his smirk translating into his tone.
Your hands flew to your hair to tug on the strands. “I don’t have a boyfriend! Not even close—Hell, it’s been months since I’ve even had sex!”
Your mouth fell open, and your hands slowly dropped back down to your sides as you realized what you’d just admitted. Tony whistled loudly in the other room, and your cheeks burned as you tried to carry on.
“I don’t know why you have to keep throwing that in my face,” you muttered, eyes glued to the ground as you hurried down the hall.
To your relief, Loki wasn’t following.
The bass from Tony’s party was bumping underneath you, vibrating through your body as if you were all hollowed out. You were lying on your bed in your ripped jeans and old college T-shirt, watching whatever Netflix original was the most convenient—and the least romantic.
There was no ice cream, there was no crying… Not this year. You and Cupid’s holiday had a shit past, but this year you were doing everything you could to pretend it didn’t exist.
As your eyes followed the uninteresting plot line on the screen, your thoughts wandered to Loki and what he had said earlier. He was so fixated on this non-existent boyfriend of yours that you had been going out of your way to avoid him. Usually, you were the one to chase after him and he was the one doing the disappearing.
He couldn’t be jealous, especially not of someone who didn’t exist, and definitely not when there was nothing between you and Loki.
Wasn’t there?
He seemed to tolerate you the most out of anyone, and you might even say that he actually enjoyed your presence. And you enjoyed his. But surely there was nothing really there, no spark or twist of fate, or else he would’ve made it clear—
You were abruptly yanked from your thoughts as a knock resounded at your door.
“If this is Steve, I’m still not coming down to the party. And if this is a couple of Tony’s guests, you are not welcome to celebrate in my room!” You shouted, not even bothering to pause your show. You couldn’t even remember what it was you were watching, but it was easily the least interesting thing you’d ever seen.
