#hello thor

Excerpt:

“Old Devil Moon” plays on your speakers, the lyrics washing over you as you stir the pasta cooking in your pot. The full moon rises outside your window, just peeking through the curtains. Somehow fitting for a night like this.

Tears well in your eyes, ones you blink and sniff away. Dragging deep, shaky breaths into your lungs, you grab your bowl and fork, scooping up your dinner to serve yourself. Your fingers flick off the burners and you sink to the floor.

This moment isn’t your greatest, certainly not your worst. But everything aches. Your heart, your stomach, your head, your limbs. Swallowing down your comfort food does nothing, the taste familiar on your tongue but lacking the normal spark of joy it usually stirs within you.

A sob bursts past your lips, shaking your shoulders. Hunching over on the floor and setting aside your bowl, you lay on your side before the stove, feeling the hard, unrelenting tile under you. The coolness calms you just a little, just enough to let you draw back your control, until you’re silent.

Footsteps echo from the entryway, steady and evenly paced. They stop at the entrance to your kitchen. The music drifts through the air, filling the silence as he watches you.

Of course you know who it is. Thor always comes to you when your heart collapses in on itself.

He says nothing, but walks into the room, picking up your bowl and placing it on the counter. His warm body crouches low to the floor, dropping to sit right beside you, legs propped up and spread with just enough room for you to slide between them.

You eye that space with watery eyes, craving the comfort and closeness, but resisting it, dropping your gaze back to the floor.

His hand reaches out, rubbing over your back until you shift and cling to his calf, resting your head on his foot. His touch moves, caressing your cheek with soft strokes, soothing and wiping away your tears at the same time.

The two of you sit together, waiting for the moment that neither of you can name. The one where you move into his arms, where you allow yourself comfort and finally give yourself what you desire.

His arms always wrap just a little too tight and you relish in it. Tucking your head against his shoulder and fisting the soft cotton of his shirt.

“It’s late,” you mumble, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of him until it fills you more than your sadness.

“I’m not leaving you,” Thor replies gruffly. “For as long as you need me, I’m here.”

“Can—” your voice breaks over the words. You clear your throat and try again. “Can I have you forever?”

His brows tilt as you sneak a look up at his face, mild disbelief and a splash of hope shining in his eyes. He nods and pulls you impossibly closer, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and sighing deep with relief.