Snippet (Loki)
The pale, dark-haired woman held out her hand, palm up, creating a magical fireball that was about the size of a basketball out of thin air. Her focus was on her masterpiece for a few brief moments before shifting her attention back on Loki.
"And what do you plan to do with that? Hit me with it?" He all but snorted. I mean, yeah it would definitely hurt, probably even leave a mark, but kill him? No. It wouldn't kill him and he had a feeling that she was more than aware of that.
The woman laughed and shook her head. "No, this isn't for you silly. This is for the one who holds your heart."
A loud and abrupt laugh filled the air, causing the woman to place her focus on where the sound was originating from. Loki didn't have to look to see who it was because he already knew. He knew that voice, that laugh all too well.
Thor.
"What?" The God of Thunder choked, barely getting the words out, still laughing hysterically. "The one who holds his heart? Are you mad? No one holds my brother's heart."
Normally, Thor would be right. Loki would even be laughing with him right now because the thought was absurd. But the truth was that it wasn't all that absurd, not anymore. However, Thor wasn't aware of that and there was no way to know for sure what this woman already knew. He remained poker-faced and placed both hands behind his back, clasping them together in order to hide the fact that they were now trembling.
The woman smiled and turned her attention back to Loki. "Then it won't matter if I let this loose then?"
Loki shrugged nonchalantly, secretly praying that she would believe him and back off. But he knew better. Because he knew that she knew he was lying.
"Very well then." She made a throwing motion upward and the magic fireball detached from her hand. Loki's heart dropped and he couldn't hide the horror that flashed across his face. "Better hurry," she told him, just before the blazing ball of fire shot up and through the air in search of its target.
He didn't take the time to try and explain. Instead, he turned toward the direction the fire was headed and ran like his life depended on it. Because it did.
She was his life.
