#laufeyson

Cold bones, yeah, that's my love

She hide away, like a ghost

The sound of you laughter resonated throughout the vacant room he stayed in. he momentarily faltered in his breathing as he detected the sound of your voice. "Loki~" His eyes were closed, reluctant to confront the possibility of encountering an unoccupied space, devoid of your presence. "Loki, Mírame. (Look at me.)" The clarity of your voice elicited an emotional response within him as his chest tightened. Gradually opening his forest green eyes, he experienced an involuntary tension throughout his body. There you were, elegantly attired in a green dress that complemented your figure beautifully. Your hair cascaded past your shoulders as you beamed at him.

Oooh, does she know that we bleed the same

Oooh, don't wanna cry, but I break that way

"Y/n?" His voice felt raw, conveying a sense of vulnerability as it faltered. He wanted to reach out for you. To touch you. To feel your warmth. But the fear that shackled him was too much. It was too good to be true. He grasped the armrest on the chair firmly. His nails digging into the wooden before it splintered into his palms. He took in your beauty. The light blush that settled on the apple of you cheeks. The sparkle in your eyes. "You're not real." He mumbled, reminding himself you weren't there. You were......

Cold sheet,oh, where's my love

I am searching high

I'm searching low in the night

Gone.

You titled your head, a smile on your lips as you shook your head. "Did you have a nightmare?" He could hear the slight Spanish accent when you spoke. You leaned against the bed.

Nightmare.

Did she run away? Did she run away? I don't know

If she ran away, if she ran away, come back home

Just come home

Yes. A nightmare. This is what it felt like. That he was in an unending nightmare from which there was no escape. He let out a strained, bitter chuckle as he lowered his head. His hair falling around his face. "This isn't real." He repeated, reminding himself of the raw pain this would only bring him if he choose to ignore the truth. If he chose to devolve himself in this blissful hallucination.

I got a fear, oh, in my blood

She was carried up into the clouds, high above

"It's okay." Your voice sounded closer as his head snapped up. You stood right in front of him, within arm's length. You looked very much alive. You reached out, your fingers ghosting over his cheek. "I'm here with you." His eyes fluttered and it was almost as if he could truly feel you touch him. As if he could smell the light vanilla intertwined with a delicate note of spice. He felt the way his resolved slowly began to crumble. "Siempre. (Always.)"

Oooh, if you bleed, I bleed the same

Oooh, if you're scared, I'm on my way

"But you're not." He tightly clasped his hands, with nails digging into his palms. A growing sense of tension developed within chest "You died in my arms." He closed his eyes, and the distressing imagery of you in his embrace, suffering, plagued him. He felt a profound sense of helplessness, lamenting in his inability to provided the assistance you so desperately needed. How tears slipped passed your eyes as you attempted to muster to smile. The poignant moment when you extended a trembling, blood-stained hand to gently touch his cheek. The absence of warmth your body gave off and the fragility of your breaths resonated deeply with him. He could feel the lack of warmth and the way each breath you took was shaky and weak. Ultimately, he remembered the impact of those two significant words that softly escaped your pale lips.

Did she run away? Did she run away? I don't know

If she ran away, if she ran away, come back home

"Te amo. (I love you.)" He felt lips press against his forehead and when he looked up, you were gone. He clenched his jaw, the impulse to succumb to his emotions weighted on him; however, a scream left his lips instead as he threw the empty liquor bottle across the room.

"Lair!" He seized the chair in a moment of heightened emotions and threw it. Pain and anger burned through his veins like hot molten lava. "You puny mortal!" He grabbed the glass that contained a small amount of liquor and threw it with force. "Lying to me, Loki of Asgard. A God!" He flipped the table, throwing it against the closet door. His emotional charge didn't stop there. He kept projecting his emotions as he ruined the room. He vented until he couldn't anymore. Until the room was already completely destroyed. His chest heaved with each erratic breath he took as his clenched fist lingered at his sides. "Lair." He said softly, his voice mixing with the silence of the room. He dropped to his knees, glass digging into his knee.

A photo caught his attention, laying clearly in the mess in front of him. He reached out for it, with shaky hands, brushing the debris away as he looked at it. It was a photo of the two of you. You were in the green dress, your hair flowing passed your shoulders. You were tucked under his arm as you smiled widely, nose crinkled from the laughter that you tried to fight back. Your beautiful eyes shone so brightly as you leaned your head into his chest. He remembered this day so clearly. He tried to act annoy with taking a photo to "capture the moment" as you claimed. But he didn't realize that the photo had captured him the way he did. Looking down at you with adoration and love in his forest green eyes. The way the smile at his lips pulled softly at his cheeks or his hand that rested at you hip in a caring manner. The expression on his face conveyed an overwhelming sense of admiration and appreciation, as if you had achieved the remarkable feat of creating celestial bodies.

Then he just broke. Clutching the photo to his chest, he hunched over as the pain took over and he cried. He was heartbroken and the terrible reality settled in. He had lost you. You that had been an ironic blessing in his life full of lies. You who had loved him unconditional and saw him for who he was. Himself. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." He cried out, repeating his apology knowing he wouldn't get a response.