@i-wish-to-rule-this-world||I'm not like the rest. I won't leave you.
The weight of the gentle hand resting on his shoulder bore down on him like a burdensome chain, anchoring itself deep within the recesses of his soul. Reluctant to meet her gaze, he kept his eyes averted, afraid that a glance in her direction might unveil the lurking monstrosity concealed behind the veil of his own existence.
"Considering everything I've done..." Loki's voice wavered, caught between the uncertainty of a question and the weight of a statement. "...the horrors I've unleashed upon you?"
This time, he summoned the courage to turn, presenting his back to the hollow expanse of the room. His eyes, however, betrayed a hesitancy, cautiously searching for any deceit lingering in the depths of hers. To his surprise, he found none. Despite his fear, Loki couldn't deny that the isolation he felt was a just consequence. Every action he'd taken had been self-serving, yet here sat Mireya, his tormented captive, offering solace.
An extended silence stretched between them, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Loki's once-silver tongue now felt like lead, burdened by the weight of his own transgressions. As the deafening quiet threatened to suffocate them, he finally broke it with a voice that, though clean-cut, carried the strain of internal turmoil.
"Mireya... I..." His struggle to articulate his emotions was palpable. "I wish I were different."
Mireya peered up at Loki as he spoke to her, his voice clear as a bell and yet different to what she was used to. He sounded uncertain, like everything was finally catching up to him. Needless to say, it was a long time coming. He'd been abandoned where she met him, so long ago now, for a reason, and he'd continued that wickedness with her. It was only recently that things began to change and that she had been open to forgiving him.
No, more than that. To supporting him. Not on some crusade for serfdom, but for him to live well. To know what it felt like to be cared about.
Besides, she thought. She might not have ever told him, and he had certainly never asked... But she knew what it was like to be lonely and unloved, too.
"I know, Loki. And you are different, already. Look at you. At us. You would have never said anything like this before, maybe not even thought about it." Mireya reminded him, "So you've already made a start. So if you want to change more then you know it's possible now. You can do that. I bet you could do anything that you want, if you really tried."
She offered him a comforting smile, the hand that had rested on his shoulder now carefully reaching out to one of his hands. Mireya gently squeezed one, but then released it, just incase the extended touch upset him.
"What do you want to be different about you? Where should we start?"
