" I just want to know your name. " | It would be a foreign language resting between their jaws. Waiting to be said, yet no matter how many times they've met through the peculiarity of their dreams - their names would always be a question, waiting to...
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┍━━━━⋆⋅☆⋅⋆━━━━┑ when two stars collide ! ┕━━━━⋆⋅☆⋅⋆━━━━┙
She was always there.
In the midst of all the chaos and torment in his mind, Loki can hear her voice, soft and gentle like the first touch of snow in Winter. She was a red string that he clung onto when the word's of his captor drowned him and as he is sinking, the echo of her delicate laughter and incomprehensible whispers anchored him to the surface.
She was a promise.
He made a promise and Loki was many things, but he wasn't an oath breaker. He was as shrewd as any snake, as sharp as a silver tongue and as crafty as a liar. He'll do anything to save his own skin, so when he sees no point in doing it for himself anymore, he thinks of her.
The girl who waits.
The girl on the other side of the universe.
The girl whose name he couldn't remember.
It was difficult at times, to make sense of what was around him whenever Thanos would forcefully take over his mind. He felt ashamed at himself, ten years ago he would've rebelled against anyone who would dare to control him. He could've easily broken away from the feeble strings and slit the throat of anyone behind it.
But he knew that this was the only way to her and Loki knew better than to throw away such opportunity.
At times he would laugh at himself at how absurd the whole thing sounds, all of this destruction and agony all for her name. He had lived long enough to see himself as a warmonger, as a monster who takes the lives of innocents all because he couldn't get her out of his mind.
Loki never wanted it to end this way. He never wanted to be a part of Thanos's sickening plan of mass genocide, he never wanted to push his brother away and he never wanted to throw Anthony Stark out of the window of his own home.
But the awful and sinister voice in his head was hissing at him, they shriek and howl inside his mind and forcing him to do what he is told. The spear began to glow brighter, tempting him, pushing him to wrap his fingers tighter around the fragile column of his neck. He lifted the mortal in the air as easily as he would lift a chalice, but as he dangled helplessly above the floor
he could hear someone running towards them, their footsteps echoing across the marble.
" Stop !" The voice begged.
A sense of familiarity washed over Loki like a tidal wave and it was so intense that the wretched voices in his mind begin to tame itself against the base of his skull. It broke him out of his trance, forcibly pulling him out of the void and back to his feet. He turned to the person, but it was too late.
