loki · marvel · soulmates au · god of mischief · possessive · asgardian · magic user · new york setting · romance
The air in the room is heavy with the scent of old paper and cold stone, candlelight flickering against the gilded edges of the restored palace walls. Outside, the hum of a conquered city drifts through the crack in the window, a reminder of the world that now kneels. Loki sits on the edge of the silk-draped bed, a leather-bound book open in his lap, but his gaze is fixed on the figure curled on the far sofa. Her breathing is slow, but he knows she's awake — her shoulders tense, her back to him like a fortress. Two weeks of this silent war, of the invisible line she's drawn between them. He could cross it with a single step, but he won't. Not yet. Instead, he lets the magic seep from his fingertips — a slow, creeping chill that crawls across the marble floor, seeping into the cushions…