The Call [Loki x Siren Fanfiction]

Chapter 41

"Hey?" I hesitantly call out to Loki, trying to gauge who he is today. He barely glances at me before closing his eyes again, attempting to look so fed up with everyone, trying to insinuate that none of us are worthy of his time. Reminds me of a feline. Much more attractive, though.

Could be worse. At least he hasn't swore at me enough to make a sailor blush. Not yet anyways. I sit on the cold floor outside his cell as I usually do when he isn't himself. I open the waterbottle, which I made sure to remember today, and set it a few feet away from me. Between the boredom and defending myself against Loki, it has come in handy on more than one occasion. 

I cross my legs and open my book, preparing to reciprocate his mood. If he's going to behave as if no one matters, so will I. As I start to fall into the story, I see him start shifting. I fight to keep the smirk off my face. He's getting restless. At the very least I'll get to hear some creative insults today. I try to stay out of his reach on days like this, and treat his threats like those coming from a human child. 

Oh, you're going to murder me slowly enough that I'll have to watch the whole thing? How cute, good luck with that. 

Want to have me be eaten by wolves? Wish to wrap your hand around my throat until I suffocate? Uh-huh, sure. 

A few minutes later, he sits up, already bored with my lack of interest. I've found that I can bait out the real Loki some days. Mostly by staying far enough away that there isn't anything serious he could do to hurt me. I figured out fairly quickly that his personality at the beginning of the day is probably his personality for the whole day. Translation, he won't go from want-to-rip-your-arms-off-mad to I-love-you-so-much-darling-happy in one afternoon, so stay out of the cell. 

"What are you reading?" He asks hesitantly. I keep my face expressionless and silently hold the cover up for him to read, not stopping the movement of my eyes across the words. I haven't actually read any of it, I'm just using the movement to make it seem like I have. 

"What's it about?" Loki asks me. I shrug his question off, knowing that he'll be conversational if I leave him alone long enough. 

"Why won't you talk to me?" He sighs like a small child. 

"I was under the impression you didn't want to talk, so I'm reading." I simply reply, not looking up. 

"Well you shouldn't assume things. It's quite rude." He declares, sounding arrogant. He's sort of back. Back enough. I look up at him, standing and staring at me. I close the book quietly and set in in my lap, staring at it as if it were the most interesting thing I've ever done. 

"Alright. Loki, do you want to talk?" I ask him calmly. 

"Yes, I would, thank you for asking." He replies regally. He is royalty after all, and he knows that speaking that way is something I find funny. 

"What would you wish to talk about?" I ask him, neatly folding my hands in my lap. He stands up and starts pacing his cell, looking every inch the caged animal. 

"Did you ever take the staff?" He asks, not looking at anything, even though his gaze flits around. He's thinking, wracking his mind for the actual memory. 

"Not until when Thor and I came to see you," I say, watching him think. 

"I threw you when you- when I thought that you took it." Loki says. The memory makes my heart rate spike, the adrenaline rush of that night comes, quite literally, rushing back. I try to calm myself. 

"Yep," I agree. Loki stops pacing and turns to me. 

"I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't done that. Will you forgive me?" He asks quietly, and his show of vulnerability catches me off guard. It's an odd thing for him to openly ask for forgiveness, but I guess this whole circumstance is odd. Given the oddness, I tell the truth.