The Latent Thoughts Of An Obscure Observer

. . .

By late afternoon, Y/N had reached the conclusion that spending her entire day off inside the apartment with Loki was going to end in one of them committing a crime. Given his general disposition, she had assumed it would be him. Instead, she found herself standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him read on her couch while considering exactly how difficult it would be to get over a chain-link fence in the dark.

Loki had claimed the living room as though he had always belonged there. He sat in the corner of the couch with one arm stretched across the back cushions, her copy of The Hunger Games open in his other hand. His attention remained fixed on the page, though Y/N suspected he had noticed her watching him almost immediately. He noticed everything. That did not mean he intended to acknowledge it.

Y/N leaned against the doorway. “We should go out tonight.”

Loki turned another page. “No.”

She blinked. “You don’t even know where.”

“I know enough.”

“You know literally nothing.”

“You have proposed an activity with the expression you usually wear immediately before making an unwise decision.”

“I don’t have an expression for that.”

“You do.”

“What does it look like?”

“Much like your normal expression, but more pleased with itself.”

Y/N stared at him. Loki continued reading.

“You’ve been here for days,” she said. “You’ve seen my apartment, the diner, and a grocery store.”

“I have also seen the road connecting those locations.”

“Exactly. You’re practically a local.”

“I have no desire to explore further.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You went wandering around alone this morning.”

His eyes lifted from the book. The subject of his earlier departure had not been mentioned again since she struck his arm and forced something resembling an apology from him. She had decided not to push him. That did not mean she was above using it against him when convenient.

“I was assessing my circumstances,” he said.

She hummed. “And how’d that go?”

“I returned, did I not?”

“You did.”

“Then the assessment was successful.”

“You figured out you like my couch.”

“I determined that remaining here was practical.”

“Right. Very practical.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed as Y/N pushed away from the doorway and walked into the living room. “I’m not asking you to move out. I’m asking you to leave the apartment for a few hours.”

“I have already left it.”

“You went to a grocery store.”

“A deeply unpleasant institution.”

Y/N stopped in front of him. “Come out with me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I do not know where you intend to take me.”

“That’s the point.”

“That does not inspire confidence.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I dislike surprises.”

“That’s because you have control issues.”

“I have standards.”

“You’re stranded on Earth and sleeping on a secondhand couch.” Y/N gave him a sweet smile. “Your standards are adjusting.”

His gaze sharpened as he closed the book around one finger. “What exactly are you proposing?”

She hesitated just long enough to make him suspicious. “Nothing dangerous.”

“No.”

“I haven’t even told you.”

“You prefaced it with an assurance that it is not dangerous.”

“Because it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“It’s mostly legal—” Y/N corrected herself. “Actually, no. It’s definitely not legal.”

That caught his attention. His expression did not change dramatically, but the book lowered slightly.

Y/N noticed. “See?”

“I see nothing.”

“You’re interested now.”

“I am determining the severity of your stupidity.”

“Sure.” She dropped onto the opposite end of the couch and turned toward him. “There’s an abandoned drive-in theater outside town. It shut down a few years ago. Nobody uses it anymore.”

“Then why would we go?”

“Because it’s cool.”

“That is not a reason.”

“It’s private. You can see the stars. There’s an old concession building we can climb onto, and the screen is still standing.”

“You propose visiting a ruined theater to look at the sky.”

“…When you say it like that, you make everything sound depressing.”

“I merely repeated your plan.”

“There’s a fence.”

“Of course there is.”

“We’d have to climb it.”

His eyes flicked toward her. Y/N attempted not to look too pleased.

“And entering the property is forbidden?” he asked.

“Technically.”

“Meaning?”

“There are signs.”

“What do the signs say?”

“No trespassing.”

Loki slowly closed the book.

Y/N pointed at him. “Ha.”

“What?”

“You’re interested.”

“I remain unconvinced.”

“But you put the book down.”

“I finished the chapter.”

“You’re such a liar.”

His expression became cool. “I have no need to trespass upon abandoned Midgardian property for entertainment.”

“You’re the god of mischief.”

“I am a prince of Asgard.”

“Who is also the god of mischief.”

“A title your people have attached to me without understanding its significance.”

“And now you’re objecting to mischief.”

“I am objecting to wasting my evening in a decaying structure.”

“Chicken.”

Silence.

Loki’s gaze sharpened while Y/N folded her arms.

He spoke very carefully. “What did you call me?”

“Chicken.”

“I heard the word. I am questioning your reason for using it.”

“Because you’re scared.”

“I am not scared.”

“You’re scared of climbing a fence.”

“I have fallen between realms.”

“But a chain-link fence is where you draw the line.”

“I could cross it without touching it.”

“Then come prove it.”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

Y/N tilted her head and began flapping her elbows. “Bawk.”

Loki stared at her.

She did it again. “Bawk, bawk.”

His face went completely still. Y/N had learned that this was usually more dangerous than anger. “Stop that.”

“Bawk.”

“I warn you—”

“Bawk, bawk, bawk.”

“You sound deranged.”

She tucked her hands beneath her arms and leaned forward, making the most obnoxious chicken noise she could manage. “Baaaawk.”

Green light flickered over Loki’s fingers.

Y/N stopped. For one brief second, she wondered whether he was actually going to turn her into something. Then the magic faded.

“You would risk your dignity merely to provoke me?” he asked.

“What dignity?”

His eyes narrowed. Y/N resumed flapping her arms.

Loki stood.

The sudden movement made her fall silent. He looked down at her with the grave offense of a king who had just been challenged before his entire court.

“I have faced armies,” he said.

Y/N nodded solemnly. “But not chickens.”

“I have stood against creatures that would reduce you to ash.”

“Did they have feathers?”

“I ruled Asgard.”

“And now you’re afraid of a fence.”

“I’m not afraid of a fence.”

“Then you’re coming?”

“No.”

Y/N inhaled. “Baw—”

“I will accompany you.”

She grinned.

“You will never make that sound in my presence again.”

“I make no promises.”

“You will.”

“Maybe.”

His eyes flashed.

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Fine. I won’t.”

“Your expression suggests otherwise.”

“You said I only have two expressions.”

“I said your foolish one resembles the other.”

“You pay a lot of attention to my face.”

“That is not what I said.”

Y/N stood from the couch before he could turn the argument around on her. “We should leave after dark.”

“How far away is it?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“And what are we expected to do there?”

“Commit crimes.”

Loki’s mouth almost curved. “You are remarkably pleased with yourself.”

“I’ve never trespassed with a Norse god before.”

“You speak as though this is an honor bestowed upon me.”

“It is.” She started toward her bedroom. “I’m changing. Wear something dark.”

Loki looked down at the clothes he already wore. The black shirt and dark jeans were hardly conspicuous, but apparently they did not meet his standards. “Why?” he called after her.

“So nobody sees us.”

“If I did not wish to be seen, they would not see me.”

“Still. Dress for the occasion.”

“You are assigning attire to criminal activity?”

“It’s part of the experience.”

Y/N disappeared into her room and closed the door. Loki remained standing beside the couch, staring after her.

From behind the door, she called, “No suits!”

“I do not require your guidance.”

“Bawk.”

The green glow came instantly.

By the time Y/N emerged from her room fifteen minutes later, Loki had changed.

She stopped in the hallway.

His hair was no longer falling to his shoulders in the loose waves she had become accustomed to. The sides had been swept back neatly, leaving the longer strands at the nape of his neck. It changed his face in a way she had not expected, drawing attention to the sharp line of his cheekbones and the pale blue-green of his eyes.

His clothing was darker than before: a black shirt buttoned completely to the collar beneath a fitted black jacket, black trousers, black shoes. Every part of the outfit was perfectly tailored, severe and understated, as though he were not preparing to trespass but attend the funeral of whoever caught them doing it.

Y/N stared.

Loki adjusted one cuff. “You said dark.”

“I also said casual.”

“This is casual.”

“For what? An assassination?”

“That would require different attire.”

She did not know whether he was joking. Probably not.

Loki looked her over in return. Y/N had changed into dark jeans, worn sneakers, and a black hooded sweatshirt over a tank top. Her hair had been pulled back, though several strands already framed her face. A backpack hung from one shoulder.

His gaze lingered on it. “What have you brought?”

“Stuff.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Snacks. Water. A blanket. Flashlight.”

“And the flowers?”

Y/N smiled.

Loki closed his eyes briefly. “You intend to intoxicate yourself while trespassing.”

“I intend to have fun while trespassing.”

“You appear to require considerable assistance to enjoy your own company.”

“That’s why I’m bringing you.”

His eyes opened.

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly. The words had escaped before she considered how they might sound.

Loki studied her. Then his expression shifted into something smug enough to make her regret the accidental sincerity. “So you admit my company improves the evening.”

“No,” she said quickly.

“You just did.”

“Nu-uh. I said I needed assistance.”

“My assistance.”

“For climbing.”

“You claimed I feared the fence.”

“I was manipulating you.”

“I’m aware.”

“You still agreed.”

“I wished to silence you.”

“Bawk.”

Loki stepped toward her.

Y/N immediately backed toward the front door, laughing. “All right. I’m done.”

“You were warned.”

“I said I was done.”

“Your promises lack value.”

“I’m grabbing my keys.”

She reached blindly toward the ceramic bowl beside the door. Loki stopped close enough that she had to tip her head back to look at him. For a moment, neither moved.

Then Y/N found the keys and held them between their faces. “Road trip.”

Loki looked at the keys. “This hardly constitutes a journey.”

“You haven’t been in the car for thirty minutes with my music.”

“I endured it yesterday.”

“That was the radio. Tonight, I got an aux cord so I control the music.”

His expression darkened.

Y/N opened the door. “You can stay here.”

Loki followed her into the hallway. “I have already agreed to accompany you.”

“Because you’re brave?”

“Because your judgment cannot be trusted without supervision.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

They descended the exterior stairs together. The evening air had cooled, though the pavement still held the day’s heat. The sky above the apartment complex had begun to turn violet, the last of the sunlight fading behind distant buildings.

Y/N’s car sat beneath one of the lamps in the parking lot. It was old enough to have acquired several unexplained rattles but new enough that she still trusted it to survive thirty minutes outside town. The paint had faded along the roof, and one of the rear windows only worked when it felt like it.

Loki stopped beside the passenger door and examined the vehicle.

Y/N unlocked it. “Don’t start.”

“I have said nothing.”

“I’ve lived with you for almost a week. I know your faces and expressions.”

“I was under the impression you admired my face.”

She looked at him. “Shut up before I throw my shoe at you.”

“Volatile.”

Y/N opened the driver’s door and tossed her backpack into the back seat. “You’re lucky you’re riding in this one.”

Loki glanced across the roof at her. “You possess another?”

“Used to.”

“What became of it?”

“I gave it to Matt.”

The faint amusement left his face. “Your former lover.”

“My ex-boyfriend, yes.”

“You gave him a vehicle?”

“It was old.”

“This one appears old.”

“Not this kind of old.”

She climbed inside. Loki opened his door but remained standing outside.

“What kind of vehicle was it?”

“A motorcycle.”

His hand stilled on the door.

Y/N was too busy shoving a collection of receipts and fast-food napkins out of the cup holder to notice the sudden interest in his face.

“A motorcycle,” Loki repeated.

“Yeah.”

“The two-wheeled machine?”

She glanced at him. “You know what a motorcycle is?”

“I observed several during my walk.”

“And?”

“They appeared considerably less offensive than this.”

Y/N looked around her car. “My car is fine.”

“Your door handle moves when touched.”

“It’s supposed to.”

“Not in that direction.”

“Get in and don’t insult Betty.”

“You have named the machine.”

“Sit. Loki.”

Loki lowered himself into the passenger seat. His knees were immediately too close to the dashboard. He looked down.

Y/N sighed. “There’s a lever under the seat.”

“I do not require assistance.”

“Then move it yourself.”

He reached beneath the seat. It slid backward so suddenly that his body jerked with it.

Y/N burst out laughing.

Loki slowly turned toward her. “Don’t.”

“I said nothing.”

“You’re laughing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are visibly shaking.”

She faced forward and put the key into the ignition. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“I have no desire to.”

“Terrified of a car seat.”

“I was startled by your crude machinery.”

“Bawk.”

Loki’s hand shot out and caught her wrist before she could start flapping her arm.

Y/N laughed harder. His fingers closed around her gently but firmly.

“You made an agreement,” he said.

“I said I was done inside the apartment.”

“You did not establish a location.”

“Then I found a loophole.”

“That’s my role.”

“You don’t own loopholes.”

“I do tonight.”

For a moment, his hand remained around her wrist. The laughter faded, leaving Y/N suddenly aware of the warmth of his fingers against her skin.

Loki appeared to notice it at the same time.

His grip loosened.

Y/N pulled her hand back and started the engine. The car coughed twice before turning over.

Loki looked at the dashboard. “You entrusted your life to this?”

“She’s reliable.”

A warning light glowed beside the speedometer.

His eyes moved toward it. “What does the red symbol indicate?”

“Nothing important.”

“It resembles an oil vessel.”

“It’s dramatic.”

“The vehicle is dramatic?”

“It learned from you.”

Loki looked unconvinced.

Y/N reached for the radio. “Seat belt.”

“I do not require—”

“Seat belt.”

“I am considerably more durable than this machine.”

“I’m not getting pulled over because the god of mischief refuses to wear a seat belt.”

“The officer would not remember the encounter.”

“We’re trying not to commit crimes until we get there.”

Loki pulled the belt across his chest with visible contempt. It clicked into place.

Y/N smiled. “See? Was that so difficult?”

“Yes.”

She shifted the car into reverse. As they pulled from the parking space, Loki looked out through the window, his attention briefly following a motorcycle as it passed on the road beyond the complex.

Y/N did not notice. She was busy stabbing the end of the aux cord into her phone.

But Loki watched the machine until it disappeared from sight.

A motorcycle.

A possession she had given away to a man she did not wish to return to.

It was a minor detail. Entirely irrelevant. And yet he stored it away with the same care he gave every useful piece of information.

Y/N smiled once the aux cord clicked in place. Music erupted through the speakers at a volume loud enough to make Loki flinch.

She immediately began singing along. Badly.

Loki looked at her. “This journey may be more dangerous than the trespassing.”

She grinned and turned the volume higher. “You agreed to come.”

“You deceived me.”

“I called you chicken.”

“A mistake you will not repeat.”

Y/N glanced at him as they turned onto the darkening road. “Bawk.”

Loki reached for the volume knob.

She slapped his hand away.

The car carried them beyond the city lights and toward the open desert, their argument disappearing into the music as night settled over Midgard.

. . .

They reached the drive-in a little after nine.

By then, the road had thinned into darkness, the city lights shrinking behind them until there was nothing but desert on either side of the car and the occasional flash of Y/N’s headlights catching dust, weeds, and rusted road signs.

Loki had spent most of the drive criticizing her music. Not because he disliked all of it, Y/N was beginning to suspect, but because he seemed physically incapable of experiencing anything new without first insulting it.

“This singer sounds wounded.”

“She’s emotional.”

“She sounds as though someone has trapped her in the instrument.”

“That’s called passion.”

“It is called distress.”

Y/N turned the volume up.

Loki turned his head toward her slowly.

She smiled at the road. “If you touch my radio, I’m making chicken noises again.”

“You promised not to.”

“I lied.”

“Poorly.”

“You still came.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line, but he did not argue.

The abandoned drive-in appeared ahead of them as a huge, dark rectangle against the night sky. The screen still stood, though one corner had peeled back from years of wind and weather. The old ticket booth sat near the entrance, glass broken, paint faded, its roof sagging slightly to one side. A chain-link fence wrapped around the property, warning signs hanging crooked from the metal.

Y/N pulled off the road and parked behind a cluster of overgrown brush. For a moment, she simply stared.

Loki glanced at her. “You have gone quiet.”

“I haven’t been here in years.”

“You said it was abandoned.”

“It is.”

“And yet you are surprised to find it neglected?”

“I’m not surprised. It’s just…” She trailed off, fingers still resting on the wheel. “Different.”

He looked through the windshield at the dark shape of the screen. “Places decay when mortals leave them behind.”

“Thanks. Very comforting.”

“It was an observation.”

“Your observations are depressing.”

“You mean they’re accurate.”

Y/N killed the engine and reached into the back seat for her backpack and skateboard. Loki opened his door and stepped out, his dark clothing nearly disappearing into the night except where moonlight caught the sharp edges of his jacket and the pale line of his face.

She locked the car, then started toward the fence. The dry grass crackled beneath her sneakers. Somewhere in the distance, a coyote yipped, answered by another farther away. Loki followed at an unhurried pace.

Y/N stopped several feet from the fence and looked around. The lot beyond it was empty. Old speaker posts stood in uneven rows like metal grave markers. Weeds had pushed up through the cracked pavement. The concession building sat near the center of the lot, boxy and weather-stained, with the projection room above it facing the screen.

She scanned the corners of the property. “No cameras,” she whispered.

Loki looked down at her. “Are you frightened?”

“No.”

“You are whispering.”

“Because we’re trespassing.”

“An activity you insisted upon.”

“I’m being careful.”

“You spent the evening making animal noises at me because I questioned the wisdom of this plan.” His mouth curved. “Now you hesitate at the threshold.”

“I am not hesitating.”

“You appear to be.”

“I’m checking for security.”

“Of course.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I have said nothing.”

She continued staring at him, already knowing something was coming.

His smile sharpened. “Perhaps it is you who is…” He paused, as though searching for the word and finding it distasteful. “Chicken.”

Y/N went completely still.

Without answering, she tossed her backpack over the fence. It landed on the other side with a dull thud.

Loki’s eyebrows lifted.

Y/N wedged the skateboard beneath one arm, grabbed the chain-link, and started climbing.

The fence rattled loudly beneath her weight.

Loki looked around the empty lot. “Subtle.”

“Shut up.”

“You are doing exceptionally well.”

“I said shut up.”

“I believe that is what you said to me earlier, is it not? Bawk?”

Y/N climbed faster out of spite.

She made it to the top, swung one leg over, then immediately regretted every choice that had led her there. The fence wobbled. The metal dug into her palms. Her sneaker slipped against the chain-link.

“Shit—”

She lost her footing.

Before she could fall, hands caught her around the waist.

Not from behind the fence.

From the other side.

Y/N looked down.

Loki stood beneath her, already inside the drive-in, his grip firm at her waist as though catching trespassing college students off fences was an ordinary part of his evening.

She stared at him. “How did you—”

“Magic.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned that before I climbed?”

“You were proving your courage.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you do not.”

He lifted her down as though she weighed nothing, setting her carefully on the cracked pavement. For a second, his hands remained at her waist.

Y/N’s breath caught before she could stop it.

Loki noticed. Of course he noticed. His gaze dropped to her mouth for half a second, then returned to her eyes with infuriating calm.

“You nearly fell.”

“You distracted me.”

“I stood quietly.”

“You existed smugly.”

“That is hardly my fault.”

Y/N pulled away and grabbed her backpack off the ground. “Come on.”

She dropped the skateboard beneath her foot and pushed off before he could reply. The wheels clattered loudly over the uneven pavement as she skated between the old speaker posts. Loki followed without hurrying, his steps smooth and soundless compared to the rough scrape of her board.

Y/N coasted toward the concession building, hopping off before the cracked curb and catching the board with one hand. “This place used to be packed on weekends,” she said, approaching the side door. “People would bring blankets, snacks, sneak in drinks. Half the time nobody even watched the movie.”

“Then what was the purpose of coming?”

She gave him a look over her shoulder.

Loki blinked once. “Ah.”

“Yeah. Ah.”

The side door was locked, but loose in the frame. Y/N shoved her shoulder against it. Nothing. She tried again.

Still nothing.

Loki stepped beside her. “Allow me.”

“If you say something dramatic—”

He touched two fingers to the lock. Green light flickered. The door clicked.

Y/N stared at it. “…That would’ve been helpful at the fence too.”

“You seemed determined.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Yes.”

At least he admitted it.

Inside, the concession building smelled like dust, old popcorn grease, and sunbaked wood. Y/N clicked on her flashlight and swept it across the room. The counter was still there, though warped and stained. A broken popcorn machine sat in the corner. Old menu boards hung crooked above the register.

Loki looked around with faint disdain. “This was where mortals purchased food?”

“Movie snacks.”

“It appears unsanitary.”

“It’s been abandoned for years.”

“Then why are you touching things?”

Y/N ignored him and found the narrow staircase leading upstairs.

The projection room was even dustier than the concession stand. Metal shelves lined the walls. Old film canisters sat stacked in corners. The projector remained in place, massive and rusted but not entirely broken.

Y/N’s face lit up. “Oh, no way.”

Loki stood in the doorway. “You know how to operate this?”

“Not really.”

“That’s not encouraging.”

“I used to mess with it when I was younger.”

“You broke into this place as a child?”

“Teenager.” She moved toward the projector, wiping dust from one of the reels. “There used to be old films up here. Most of them were ruined.”

“And you intend to show one?”

“I’m going to try.”

“Should I stand at a distance?”

“Probably.”

She found a canister with a label peeling from the side.

Her eyes widened. “No freaking way.”

Loki leaned closer. “What is it?”

“Jaws.”

He looked unimpressed. “That means nothing to me.”

“It’s a movie about a giant shark eating people. They loved playing this all the time.”

“Why would anyone watch that willingly?”

“Because it’s good.”

“You find aquatic murder entertaining.”

“Like you didn’t read Twilight.”

“That was anthropological research.”

“It was Team Jacob research.”

His eyes narrowed.

Y/N grinned and turned back to the projector.

It took nearly twenty minutes to get anything working. Loki complained through most of it, though he still followed every instruction she gave him. Hold the flashlight. Lift that. No, not with magic. Okay, actually yes, with magic. Don’t melt anything. Stop judging the equipment.

At last, the projector shuddered to life. The beam shot through the dusty glass window and stretched across the empty lot.

Outside, the massive screen flickered.

Y/N gasped and hurried down the stairs.

Loki followed her out onto the pavement as the movie appeared in faded color across the old drive-in screen. The image jumped and scratched. The sound crackled from a speaker near the building, warped but understandable.

Y/N dropped her backpack near the hood of an abandoned car and climbed onto it. “Come on.”

Loki looked at the car. “You wish to sit on this?”

“It’s abandoned.”

“It is rusting.”

“Then don’t lick it.”

He gave her a deeply offended look.

She patted the space beside her.

After a moment of obvious internal suffering, Loki climbed onto the hood and sat with far more dignity than the situation deserved.

The film was already partway through. Y/N leaned back on her hands, smiling at the screen.

Loki watched in silence at first.

Then the shark appeared briefly.

He turned slowly toward her. “This is the creature?”

“Yeah.”

“It looks false.”

“It’s from the seventies.”

“That explains nothing.”

“It was scary at the time.”

“It barely moves.”

“Can you just enjoy it?”

“I was told this involved a giant shark eating people. I expected more.”

“Shush.”

They watched until the film cut suddenly. The reel slapped loosely in the projector room above them, and the screen went white.

Y/N sighed. “Guess that’s all that survived.”

“A mercy.”

“You liked it.”

“I did not.”

“You asked three questions about shark behavior.”

“Because the film was inaccurate.”

“You were invested.”

“I was concerned by the stupidity of the sailors.”

Y/N laughed and slid off the car hood.

The blank screen glowed pale in the darkness.

She stared at it for a moment, then glanced at Loki. “Can you put something up there?”

He looked at her. “Put something?”

“With your magic.”

“You wish me to perform tricks upon a ruined screen?”

“I want to see what you can do.”

“My magic is not a novelty.”

“I know.” Her voice softened enough to make him pause. “I just want to see.”

Loki studied her, suspicion briefly returning to his face.

Then he stood.

The night air seemed to still around him.

He lifted one hand.

Green light curled around his fingers, thin and elegant, like threads being pulled from the dark.

The blank movie screen shimmered.

Then it changed.

Y/N stopped breathing.

Gold rose across the screen first. Not flat color, not a picture, but light. Towers stretched upward in impossible lines, gleaming beneath a sky unlike any she had ever seen. A city unfolded before her in layers of bronze and gold, built into mountains and cliffs, surrounded by water that caught the sun like glass.

Asgard.

Not mythology. Not a word in a book.

A real place.

Y/N stepped closer to the screen.

The illusion widened until it no longer felt confined to the drive-in. The cracked pavement beneath her feet faded into polished stone. The rusted speaker posts became distant pillars. The desert air turned cool and bright with sea wind that could not truly be there.

She could see a palace rising over everything, tall enough to make the old drive-in screen feel like a window cut into another world.

“Loki…”

He stood behind her, silent.

Y/N looked around, mouth parted slightly. “It’s beautiful.”

His eyes remained on the illusion. “Yes.”

There was no smugness in his answer. No correction. No speech about how Midgard could never compare.

Just yes.

Y/N turned back toward the shining city. “Is this where you lived?”

“The palace is there.”

He pointed, and the illusion shifted, drawing her gaze toward the tallest structure.

“And the bridge?”

For a moment, he did not answer.

Then the image changed again.

A long bridge stretched over the water, luminous even in illusion, leading from the city toward a distant observatory. It looked like something made from captured starlight.

Y/N’s voice dropped. “That’s the…Bifrost.”

“What remains of it in my memory.”

She glanced at him.

He had gone still, his face lit faintly by the gold of his own magic.

“You miss it.”

His jaw tightened. “It is my home.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No,” he said quietly. “It is not.”

Y/N did not push.

Instead, she opened her backpack and pulled out a joint tucked inside a small plastic case.

Loki noticed immediately. “You brought the flowers.”

“I told you I did.”

“You are going to smoke while looking upon Asgard?”

“I feel like that’s exactly when someone should smoke.”

“That’s an absurd statement.”

She sat back on the abandoned car hood and lit the end. The first inhale made the ember glow orange in the dark. She held it for a moment, then exhaled toward the side so the smoke drifted away from him.

Loki watched with guarded curiosity.

Y/N held it out. “You sure?”

“I declined before.”

“You can decline again.”

His eyes moved from the joint to the illusion of Asgard. Then back to her.

After a long moment, he took it between two fingers.

He held it like something both beneath him and potentially poisonous.

Y/N smiled. “Okay. Small inhale.”

“I understand the concept.”

“Do you?”

“I breathe constantly.”

“That’s literally not the same thing.”

Loki brought it to his lips.

He inhaled.

Then immediately swallowed wrong.

Smoke escaped sharply through his nose. His eyes widened. He coughed once, then again, harder.

Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Do…not laugh,” he choked.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m emotionally supporting you.”

“You have poisoned me.”

“I smoked it too. You smoked wrong.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did. You swallowed it.”

“That is not an instruction one gives after the fact.”

“I said small inhale.”

“I took a small inhale.”

“You tried to defeat it.”

“It attacked me.”

Y/N finally laughed.

Loki glared at her through watery eyes, which only made it worse.

She reached for the joint.

He held it away from her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying again.”

“You hated it.”

“I disliked being ambushed.”

“By weed?”

“By your poor explanation.”

“Fine. Don’t swallow it. Pull it into your mouth, then breathe it in. Slowly.”

Loki looked profoundly insulted by needing guidance on breathing, but he tried again.

This time, he managed it.

He exhaled more smoothly, though his expression remained severe.

“Well?” she asked.

“It tastes like burning leaves.”

“It kind of is.”

“And this brings you pleasure?”

“Give it a minute.”

He took another cautious drag.

Then another.

Y/N watched him closely. “I don’t even know if it’ll affect you.”

“Why would it not?”

“You heal almost instantly and you’re not human.”

“I am capable of being affected by substances.”

“Have you been high before?”

“No.”

She blinked. “Never?”

“Wine and several other drinks at home are considerably stronger than anything found here, but this particular form of intoxication is new.”

“So I got the god of mischief high for the first time.”

His gaze sharpened. “Do not phrase it that way.”

“I absolutely will.”

“I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid me from saying things.”

“I can.”

“You can try.”

A few minutes passed.

At first, Loki seemed unchanged.

Then his posture shifted. Only slightly.

The usual rigid set of his shoulders loosened. His head tipped back against the windshield of the abandoned car. His eyes remained on the illusion of Asgard, but the sharpness in them softened into something distant and almost curious.

Y/N leaned closer. “Do you feel anything?”

“No.”

“You answered too fast.”

“I answered accurately.”

“Look at me.”

He did.

His pupils were wider.

Y/N smiled slowly. “Oh, it worked.”

“It has done nothing.”

“You’re high.”

“I am not.”

“You’re calmer.”

“I was already calm.”

“Calmer than you have been this past week.”

“Your Midgardian items cause me stress.”

She laughed and took the joint back.

Loki watched the smoke curl around her fingers.

“It’s strange,” he said after a moment.

“What is?”

“The silence.”

Y/N looked around the abandoned lot. “It’s always quiet out here.”

“No. Not that.” He lifted his hand slightly, and the illusion above them shimmered. “My thoughts.”

Y/N’s smile softened. “Oh.”

Loki seemed to realize what he had admitted and immediately looked annoyed. “It’s not unpleasant.”

“That’s good.”

“I did not say I enjoyed it.”

“You kind of did.”

“I said it wasn’t unpleasant.”

“That’s Loki for ‘I’m having a great time.’”

“I do not have a separate language.”

“You do. It’s called denial.”

He turned his head toward her.

For a few seconds, he simply looked at her.

The joint glowed between her fingers.

“What else can you do?” she asked, partly because his attention had become too intense.

“With magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Many things.”

“Specific.”

“Illusions. Concealment. Duplication. Alteration of appearance. Small enchantments. Larger ones, under the right conditions.”

“Duplication?”

Loki’s expression grew faintly smug again.

That was her only warning.

Green light flashed.

Suddenly, another Loki sat on her other side.

Y/N yelped and nearly dropped the joint.

The duplicate smiled.

Then another appeared on the hood of the car. Another leaned against the speaker post. Another sat on the ground in front of her with his legs stretched out, looking bored.

Y/N stared.

There were five of him.

All watching her with varying degrees of amusement.

“Oh, hell no.”

The Loki beside her lifted an eyebrow. “You asked.”

“This is deeply unsettling.”

One of the duplicates leaned forward. “Is it?”

Another said, “She appears impressed.”

“I am not impressed.”

The one by the speaker post tilted his head. “She is.”

Y/N turned in a circle, pointing the joint at all of them. “Stop ganging up on me, assholes.”

The real Loki’s mouth curved. “How do you know which of us is real?”

She looked at the Loki beside her. Then at the others.

The one closest to her seemed too still. Too aware. Too pleased in a way that felt heavier than the rest.

She reached out and poked his arm.

Solid.

“This one.”

The duplicates vanished.

Loki looked down at where she had touched him. “You’re learning.”

“You’re smug.”

“I’m correct.”

“You’re high and correct. Dangerous combination.”

He lifted one hand again.

This time, the screen changed into moving constellations.

Stars rearranged themselves into shapes Y/N did not recognize, symbols and stories drawn in light.

Loki explained some of them. Not in the grand way he usually explained things, but slower. Easier. He told her which constellations children in Asgard learned first, which ones sailors used, which ones Thor always misnamed because he had never paid attention during lessons.

Y/N listened with her knees pulled up beneath her chin.

At some point, the joint burned down too low to continue.

At some point after that, the illusion of Asgard softened until the city faded into stars.

Loki sat close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

She did not move away.

“Can you make anything?” she asked quietly.

“Within reason.”

“Define reason.”

“Not a living soul. Not true matter from nothing. Not permanence without effort.”

“Could you make me look like someone else?”

“Yes.”

“Could you make yourself look like anyone?”

“Yes.”

“That feels dangerous.”

“It often is.”

She turned toward him.

His face was very close.

Closer than she realized.

The stars from his illusion moved across his features, casting green-gold light over his cheekbones, his mouth, the line of his jaw. His hair had come slightly loose from where it had been swept back, dark strands falling near his face.

Y/N’s gaze dropped before she could stop it.

Loki noticed.

His eyes lowered to her mouth.

Neither of them spoke.

The entire drive-in seemed to go still around them.

Y/N could feel the warmth of him beside her. The faint scent of smoke on his clothes. The electric hum of his magic lingering in the air.

“You’re staring,” he said softly.

“So are you.”

“I know.”

Her breath caught.

Loki leaned closer.

Not quickly.

Not carelessly.

Slow enough that she could have moved away.

She did not.

Their noses nearly brushed. His mouth hovered just above hers, close enough that she could feel the shape of his breath.

Then light swept across the lot.

Y/N jerked back. “Oh, shit.”

Loki’s eyes sharpened at once.

A flashlight beam moved between the old speaker posts.

A man’s voice called from somewhere near the fence. “Anybody in here?”

Y/N grabbed Loki’s sleeve and yanked him off the car hood.

They dropped behind the abandoned car, crouching low against the cracked pavement.

Loki opened his mouth.

Y/N slapped a hand over it.

He went very still.

The flashlight beam skimmed over the hood above them.

Y/N’s heart pounded so hard she was sure the security guard would hear it.

Loki’s eyes remained on hers over the top of her hand.

Annoyingly calm.

Too calm.

The footsteps grew closer.

Y/N pressed herself lower, her shoulder against Loki’s chest, one hand still covering his mouth.

The guard walked past the car.

His flashlight passed directly over them.

And kept going.

Y/N froze.

The light should have found them. It should have landed on her black hoodie, Loki’s polished shoes, the backpack sitting near the tire.

Instead, it moved over empty pavement.

She looked at Loki.

His eyes glinted green.

He had made them invisible.

The guard stopped a few feet away, muttered something under his breath, and continued toward the concession building.

Y/N waited until his footsteps faded.

Then she slowly removed her hand from Loki’s mouth. “You could’ve led with that.”

His voice was low, amused. “You appeared to have matters under control.”

“I covered your mouth. You were going to say something.”

“I was going to inform you that I had already hidden us.”

She stared at him.

His gaze flicked to her mouth again.

The almost-kiss hung between them, sharper now in the cramped space behind the car.

Y/N became aware that she was practically pressed against him.

Loki seemed aware too.

Neither of them moved for several seconds.

Then the guard’s flashlight flashed again near the projection room.

Y/N grabbed her backpack with one hand and Loki’s wrist with the other. “We need to go.”

“Now you wish to flee?”

“Yes.”

“Chicken.”

She glared at him.

He smiled.

The invisibility shimmered around them as they moved through the abandoned lot, crouched and hurried, Loki far too elegant for someone sneaking away from a security guard at an abandoned drive-in theater.

At the fence, Y/N turned toward him. “You are not making me climb that again.”

“I would not dream of it.”

Green light curled around them.

The world folded.

A second later, they stood outside the fence beside her car.

Y/N stumbled slightly.

Loki caught her by the waist again.

She looked up at him.

His hands stayed there.

The security guard’s flashlight moved in the distance beyond the fence, unaware of them.

Y/N whispered, “That was cheating.”

“That was magic.”

“Same thing.”

“You requested mischief.”

Her mouth curved despite herself. “I did.”

“And?”

She glanced back at the old screen, now blank beneath the stars.

Then she looked at Loki.

His face was still close. His hands were still warm at her waist. The almost-kiss still waited between them like unfinished business.

Y/N swallowed. “Not bad for a chicken.”

Loki’s smile vanished.

She grinned and bolted for the driver’s side before he could respond.

Behind her, his voice followed, low and dangerous and deeply offended.

“Y/N.”

She laughed as she unlocked the car. “Come on, god of mischief.”

He got in.

As Y/N started the engine and pulled back onto the empty road, neither of them mentioned what had almost happened behind the abandoned car.

But Loki’s illusion of Asgard still lingered faintly in her mind.

And Loki, staring out the window with smoke still warm in his chest and her laughter filling the car, found himself thinking that Midgard was perhaps not entirely without beauty.

. . .