Loki Laufeyson²

Loki had always preferred the library to any other chamber in Asgard. Here he was calm—peaceful. The rustle of the pages and the faint scent of parchment were a welcome respite from the noise of the palace. It was his sanctuary, the only place where no one dared to disturb him.

Even her.

He hadn't given her much thought when Thor brought her back from Midgard. To him, she was just another mortal—another fragile creature whose life was a blink of an eye compared to his own. Beautiful, perhaps, but hardly remarkable.

And yet, for the past week, she had been here. Every afternoon. Sitting in the alcove of the high window, sunlight streaming through her hair, her nose buried in some leather-bound tome she could barely carry. She never asked for his company. Never tried to speak to him. She simply… existed there.

Instead.

Today was no different. Loki entered the library, a book already in his hand, only to find her again—curled up against the glass, her feet tucked underneath it, an image of serenity that somehow irritated him.

He raised an eyebrow, approaching with deliberate steps.

—“You know,” he said in a soft but irritated voice , “that you’re taking my seat… don’t you?”

She slowly raised her head, and for the first time, he saw her eyes clearly. Eyes of Midgard. Clear, defiant, and completely indifferent to his presence.

He found it...interesting.