If anyone had told him when he first stepped on this miserable planet, that he’d be here, sitting on the opposite end of a couch, watching animated musicals with a Midgardian woman, he’d have laughed himself hoarse.
Likewise, if anyone had told him the depths of feeling he would have for said Midgardian woman, he’d have laughed himself dead.
But, here he was. Sitting on her horribly purple plush divan, eating popcorn doused in fake powdered cheese and stealing glances at a certain Miss Darcy Katherine Lewis when he could. Whenever he could. An alarming number of times. He was sure he spent more time watching the muscles work in her jaw and throat as she ate her overly processed snack than he did watching whatever in the nine realms she had deigned appropriate for her ill-conceived movie night.
Ill-conceived or no, he was here. As he always was, whenever the opportunity arose to spend time with her.
His brother-turned not brother-turned brother again found the whole thing very amusing. Of course, to his credit, Thor found a great many things amusing. As one with a lesser degree of intelligence tended to.
Loki found it neither amusing nor embarrassing, he just…found it so. It was a statement of fact. Darcy Lewis was…in his opinion, the most beautiful breathing creature to be found on Midgard.
Notwithstanding his unconscionable shock at how a peasant woman could entrance him so…she was not possessing of great beauty, and yet, he found her beautiful. It was puzzling. Intriguing. And at once, utterly frustrating.
Because of his very capable ability to “shoot himself in the foot”, as Captain America would word it, he wasn’t entirely sure of his success if he were to attempt to woo the woman.
Another glance down in her direction gave him a view of something that would have surely disgusted the old him. With his previous sentiments on humans and whatnot. And to be fair, it probably should have disgusted him now.
A kernel of popcorn had fallen down the front of Miss Lewis’s top, and without so much as a glance downward, she’d plucked it from its voluptuous destination and promptly ate it.
And while that rightly should have been a deterrent, Loki now found himself wanting another piece to follow suit, so he could retrieve it himself. Perhaps with his mouth, if Darcy was kind enough to allow such a thing.
Now he realized, he was staring brazenly at her chest and quickly averted his eyes.
Quick glances towards her revealed that she HAD indeed seen him, and was now staring at him curiously.
“Enjoying the movie, Lokes?”
He nodded, “Indeed.”
She picked up the bowl of popcorn and scooted closer to him, down to the middle cushion of the couch.
He straightened immediately, suddenly hyper-aware of her proximity.
She peered up at him, but didn’t touch him, instead laying her hand on the cushion beside her thigh. As if inviting him to take it.
He looked down at it, trying to concentrate on the movie instead of on her. On how warm her skin would be. How nice her fingers would feel closed around his own.
But, he had to be careful. He didn’t want to end up like that poor unfortunate soul who had the audacity to ask her out the previous week in the lab. Ian? Was that his name?
She’d not only rejected his advances, but warned him against any future ones in a rather loud and unceremonious way that was heard CLEARLY by everyone in the lab. He swore he’d even seen Dr. Banner wince.
He had to admit, his feelings for her had only increased upon witnessing the display. Especially since she had haughtily informed everyone within earshot that Ian (?) would simply not take no for an answer.
But, it appeared that stubbornness was not appealing to her, and if Loki was anything, he was stubborn…
He gulped loudly and placed his own palms face down on his legs, trying to steady them because the bouncing was rapidly becoming annoying. Even to him.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her warm hand close around his, fingers lacing and squeezing.
He looked over at her, rightly confused.
She shrugged, “Thought I’d help you out before you had an aneurysm.”
“I…merely wanted to be sure…that you’d be…open to romantic overtures from me…”
“Romantic overtures?” she snickered, “You are SUCH a fucking trip. Don’t ever change.” She lifted his arm and ducked under it, leaning against him.
Of course, the truth of it was, he’d already changed. And there was no going back.