#deceiveroffools

                            she wakes slowly, a creeping melancholy settling deep within her bones. a hand slides out from her side, passes over the other side of the bed, the sheets the cool of an empty space, not the proper cold they once held. this is pathetic, she thinks, briefly, as her hand closes in the sheets. she allows herself a moment more of agonizing contemplation before using that hand to pull the sheets away and off of her body, forcing herself up and out of the bed. her bare feet pad almost silently across the hardwood floor, silent watching reminders of HIM all through the small home. 

                            she should rid herself of them. throw out everything and remake the home anew, fill it with furniture that does not hold the fingerprints, the imprints, of either god. but even just the consideration sends a tremor of anxiety through her. what if they come back? what if they swing through the door one day and see she’d erased every trace of them and they believe it a reason to stay away? for good this time. 

                            her hands brace the kitchen counter, back bent slightly over it. she swears she can feel the cool breath as the timbre of his voice rings in her head.      my beauty, this home is yours. should you not fill it wonderfully and beautifully with you?      maybe. maybe one day. her life is a long one; she can take centuries to grieve if she needs to. and perhaps, one day, the echoes of loki and baldr will not be so strong, will not cause so deep an ache, and she can fill her home with traces of herself without feeling agony. 

"you're the exception"

your emotional walls have walls. seriously, you've guarded yourself so well, you sometimes forget how to look over your own walls and see the beauty of the world outside the safety of the protection you've set up. you forget how to escape the confines you built for yourself, that is, but some people (some incredibly rare people) somehow know their way through that intricate maze of walls and thorns around you. they're the exception, and terrifying as it might be at first, you'll let them know eventually. you smile at them where you'd scowl at another. you crack a joke where you'd usually stay quiet. you find yourself opening up more than you'd ever imagined. don't tear your fortress down if you don't want to, but maybe try to build your loved ones a little home inside it instead. you don't have to be alone. you deserve better than being alone in there.

' GIVE HER heart to . ' that's an interesting way of phrasing it . the love she's felt have varying levels . there's always ( usually ) a wariness attached . hank was a childish crush more than anything . she certainly didn't give her heart to erik . that was infatuation , a desperate desire to feel wanted . even azazel , as close as they were , as much as she cared for him , even him she's not sure it was properly love .

but then - - - - there was loki . loki was different than the rest for her . the way he'd looked at her , touched her , CARED for her . it was the most vulnerable she'd ever been , her chest cracked open to the bleeding organ underneath . and for so long , for four years , he held it cupped in his icy hands , a bird in the hands of a wolf . but her wolf . her beast and his beauty . gods , she's sentimental . she shakes her head with a hint of disgust , at herself .

THE FIRST thing she feels is the press of the shells against her skin, the edges poking, threatening to cut. her brows furrow as she slowly turns, shifts, lifts herself up.

‘’So you return.’’

The soft voice did little more than drift across the tiled floor, moving like distant thunder and stated fact at the god’s bared feet. The Breiðablik had barely changed in Loki’s absence, save for all but one feature. Now did Ja’ax lay, previously curled in the sun’s rays, now upright and eyes glinting at the appearance of it’s former owner.