~10:07 am, May 9, 2019 (That Same Day)~

“120 over 68.” Shaun, the nurse who had ushered Sigyn and Loki into an exam room at her doctor’s office, unwound a velcro blood pressure cuff from her upper arm.

“Excellent.  Pulse is normal.  No fever.  Looks like you’ve lost ten pounds since we saw you for your physical in January.  Was that intentional?  Your BMI is barely hanging on to the lower end of healthy for your height, hon.”

“I have a low appetite lately, I guess,” she admitted, clearing her throat.

She sat up a bit taller, plainly nervous, her fingers digging into the paper covered edge of the medical exam bed.  Her eyes moved to Loki standing across from her with his hands in his pockets, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging wink as Shaun continued talking to her.

“Well, if that’s something that concerns you, and I’m not saying it should or shouldn’t, then make sure you tell Christine, our PA, ok?  She’ll go over all the symptoms you told me about.  Don’t worry, Ms. Frey, we’ll get you all taken care of,” he reassured her, giving her a warm smile, then he left them alone.

She slumped forward, putting her face in her hands. “No appetite lately,” she mimicked herself, groaning at the whiny tone, “do I sound pathetic?”

“Not at all,” Loki said, crossing the room to her.

She let out a surprised squeak when he lifted her a few inches from the edge, then spun around and took her seat, his long legs dangling over the sides.  He pulled her to sit down in front of him, and she scooted back as close to him as possible, settling all her weight against his chest.  They stayed there, unmoving save for the rising and falling of their chests.  If only the WiFi wasn’t so rotten in here, he would have used the time to edit those total disasters masquerading as “chapters” in book three.  If Sig wasn’t so exhausted, maybe they could talk about something.   If he had eaten a decent damn breakfast, maybe he wouldn’t be so cranky.  And if Sig had any interest in sex at all… ever, maybe they could really make use of the extra wait.  Oh he could see it so perfectly.  She would whisper “what if we get caught” while he slid his hand down the front of her shorts.

Christ.

Probably wasn’t wise to have her backside pressing into his crotch like this.  Also not wise to bury his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder.  Did she have any idea how good she smelled?  Like salt and sun and…kiwi?

That is YOUR sunscreen on YOUR face, you dimwit.

Eyes rolling at his brilliance , he sighed.  The seconds dragged on into minutes that felt like hours, which made his annoyance and cumulative anxiety impossible to ignore.  He had reached the point of counting his breaths, and doing what his therapist said.  Focus on basic things.

Are their tiles on the floor?-then count them.  Pictures on the wall?-what shapes are they?  Okay.  Now do that until you start breathing properly.

At least they weren’t stuck out there in the waiting room without privacy.  Panicking in public was mortifying .   Shaun had taken them straight into this room after Sig signed in at the reception desk, which had been- he checked his watch -bloody hell, FORTY minutes ago.  His breathing picked back up.  How much longer was this going to take?  Surely the PA would come in at any moment, right?  He would do well to take a walk, but he didn’t want to leave his girl alone.  Chewing his lip, he eyed the space around him to find those ordinary things again.

These walls are too close.  The ceiling is too low.  That window is sealed shut.  These horrid glaring lights are giving me a headache.  Good god, why won’t that child in the next room stop screaming?!

Wow.  Pointing out basic things was not working.  Suddenly everything around him felt very much akin to a cage…a smells-like-bleach, linoleum and fluorescent, recirculated air cage.   A wave of what felt like motion sickness hit him harder than Hela’s fist to his face, and he swallowed nervously.  He gazed longingly at the side pocket of his laptop bag where he kept two emergency Xanax inside an empty pack of spearmint gum.  He had always been, and continued to be, extremely careful and discriminatory with those pills, limiting himself to using them only as a last resort.

You don’t need one, LO.

Uh…I beg to differ.

He groaned into Sigyn’s shoulder.  After living with the back and forth arguing in his head for three decades, one would think he could tune it out like a mother ignoring the incessantly bickering children in the other room.  Granted, said mother had probably swallowed a “mother’s little helper” aka Valium to deal with it.  Maybe he should give a pet name to his emergency stash.  “Loki’s Little Helper” was not an option for obvious phallic reasons.

BIG helper, you mean.

Ha…ok.

SHE made #massivemanhattanman a thing, not me.

Does that make you feel better, LO?

“Go take a walk, Loki.” Sigyn’s quiet, somewhat dejected voice pulled him out of his shiny object thoughts.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he lied, kissing the side of her head.

“No, you’re so obviously not,” she said, pushing off the bed to get out of his way.

“Your energy is all…” she waved a hand at him, “…I don’t know… prickly.”

She made a face. “That was a bad word choice, wasn’t it.”

Tilting his head, he shrugged one shoulder.

“Not bad , per se,” he said, starting to step down, “I would have gone with edgy, I think.”

She hummed in response, then gestured to the door. “Anyway.  Just go get some fresh air.  It’s better than seeing you pop another pill.”

Eyes on the floor, he went dead still with one leg halfway off the bed.

“It’s better than seeing me pop another pill,” he repeated slowly, enunciating each word.  He lifted his slightly narrowed eyes to hers after a few beats.

Did she just-

“That came out so so so so wrong,” she said, taking a step back as he slid off the bed, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Surely he was overreacting.  Surely he was just hypersensitive to the slightest possibility that this woman that he adored might be criticizing him like everyone else.

Am I acting like I’m jonesing for benzos?

Not what she meant, LO.

She knew how hard he worked to stay on top of his fucked up head without being obsessive about it, so why the hell was she scolding him for “popping a pill” when he needed one?  Had she flipped a switch on him?  Was this it?  Honeymoon over?  Two years in and now it was time to get to business and fix the hell out of this trash prince for his own good?

Please don’t pull that shit with me, Sig…don’t be like the rest of them.

She began to shake visibly, and her lip started to wobble. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart.”

He meant it.  He wasn’t angry.  He was just scared that he’d lost his girl, or maybe it was the other way around.  She’d never expressed concern about his occasional necessary use of Xans before, and this was new and all kinds of wrong and unfair.

Dramatic much, LO?

Nothing new there- No one ever accused me of being CHILL.

She stepped back again, and he followed her, frowning at the space between them, wishing she would stop backing away from him.  She looked too meek, and he felt too predatory.  He wanted to close the distance that second, but she looked like she would flinch away, and seeing her flinch away from him would be horrifying, so he kept his feet glued to the hideous pinkish-beige floor tiles.

“I really hope that you were not suggesting that the pathetic, broken version of me is exhibiting behaviors of which you don’t approve.”

For a moment neither of them spoke, and his stomach started to plummet, his hope that he was just being hypersensitive along with it.  He looked her up and down, replaying his words over in his head, and oh they’d come out with more venom than he’d intended, and…had he said them through his teeth?  Oh shit.

FIX THIS.

“Sig—”

“Loki, NO,” she cut him off, releasing a shuddering breath as she looked all over his face with wide eyes, “I know how it sounded, but I swear that is a huge misinterpretation.”

The fear in her voice twisted his gut into absolutely nauseating knots, and he exhaled the breath he’d been holding unaware.  He reached up to rub his temples, which were apparently now covered in microscopic beads of sweat.  Okay so “prickly” was actually spot on.   Dropping his hands to his sides, he opened his mouth to apologize for being the worst boyfriend of the year, but she lunged forward, throwing her arms around his waist, and the sudden move pushed all the air out of his lungs in an “umph!” that would have been comical in just about any other situation.  Heaving a sigh of relief, he leaned his cheek on the top of her head and hugged her shoulders.

“Dying stars above,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest, “I love you so much.  Everyone who told you that you are broken, past and present, can all go to hell.”

Breath hitching, he squeezed her even more tightly, trying to pull her closer.  To think, she had finally decided to get some help, to put herself out there, so to speak, yet he’d successfully managed to turn it around and make everything about himself.   Honestly, she ought to smack him for being so damn self-centered, but rather than be angry with him, she was angry for him.

I do not deserve this girl’s love at ALL.

He moved to kiss the top of her hair, but she moved too, lifting her head from his chest to look up at him, and he could have sworn his body forgot how to breathe. 

For the love—her mouth was less than an inch from his, and she was sliding her hands out from under his arms and up his stomach, and even with his shirt still on, it felt like…Valhalla?  Bit of an obscure reference, but “heaven” felt overused.

“I hate it.  They just had to change you, didn’t they.  And for the life of me, I do not understand why.  Ugh, Loki, you’re so…forgive the fluffy cringe here but…you are so damn amazing .   Maybe they were just jealous or trying to make up for their own failings by making you feel like shit too.  I don’t know.  The Karens of the world aren’t worth your mental energy.”

Chewing her lip, she shook her head, looking between his eyes and his mouth.

“Loki, you experience life in your body, not me or anyone else, and no one else has the right to tell you how to live that life or tell you who you are.  Plain and simple.  You decide who you want to be, who you are.   I mean, obviously as long as ‘living’ doesn’t entail, you know, stabbing people or something—” she rolled her eyes “—that was dumb.  Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Head shaking, she sighed heavily. “Point is, I will never be that girl who tries to take that decision away from you, okay?  You could decide to change your name even, and I would go along with it.  I’d call you what you want to be called.  Wait…shit…please don’t change it though.  You wouldn’t do that, would you?  I mean, your name is off the charts stupid sexy.  Do you have any idea how many times I have listened to that ‘Low Key, low key you should really get to know me’ song?  On repeat in my ears at work ALL FEBRUARY just because it says your name about a hundred times.”

Loki stared down at her, his vital organs once again forgetting their basic functions.  All February?  He’d known Sig liked that song, but he hadn’t known it was to that extent, nor that it was because his name- a variation of it, that is -played the starring role.  He’d guessed that was part of it, but not the whole.   She and Darcy sang it to him from the stage at the surprise birthday she threw for him in February.  They’d been completely blitzed of course, and the entire room had been highly entertained when Sig just kept belting the lyrics like she either hadn’t noticed or didn’t give a damn when Darcy fell flat on her face after tripping over the microphone stand.  Despite crying from laughing so hard, his heart had been on the verge of exploding out of his chest.  His heart would explode any moment now too.  He had never loved his name more than he did in this second, and it was all her fault.

“So, that thing about popping pills-” she stopped abruptly, reaching up to rub her thumbs under her eyes and sniffed back more tears.  After another heavy sigh, she hung her head and continued.

“Yeah, that was about me.   This past month-” another pause, another sniffle “-I feel like it’s my fault that you have any anxiety or writer’s block or restlessness or whatever at all, and if I see you open that pill bottle, it’s an easy visual reminder that I am making you miserable.  It’s easier to pretend you’re still at least somewhat into me if I don’t see you taking them.  That’s all.”

He couldn’t help the instinctive narrowing of his eyes or the clench of his jaw.  What the hell?  She didn’t think he was somewhat into her?   Alright, she was becoming far too proficient at self-loathing.  They couldn’t both be off their rockers.  This was not okay at all.  Leaning his head back, he let go of her and pulled his hands down his face for the thousandth time in just that hour .

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, lifting his head again to look down at her, “I have been taking those meds as needed, and not even that often, since I was 23…you know… ten years before you and I met.”

“I know,” she gulped, “it’s one of the few things I do actually know.”

He bent down to her eye level, practically nose to nose. “You know a lot more than you give yourself credit for.”

Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and whatever words he’d intended to say beyond that flew straight out that sealed shut window.

“Sig, you have to let me kiss you.”

For a few blissfully ignorant seconds, he was unaware that he’d said it out loud.  But then he was aware of it, and the mental facepalm gave him an instant headache.

Congratulations—you are a desperate idiot.

Puffing out his cheeks, Loki ran a hand through his hair and released the breath through his mouth in a whoosh.

“Think I’ll have that Xanax now…no offense,” he added, lest she get weird about it again.

Rolling his eyes, he started to step back, but Sigyn didn’t let him.  Pushing up onto her toes, she slid her arms up around his neck and kissed him (not gently) for the first time in a month. 

Loki froze, his eyes wide open as his central nervous system glitched—say huh do way-wayyy-wait WHAAAAT? —for about three seconds before the electric sensation of his girl’s lips on his lit the fuses of trillions of dopamine fireworks inside his head.  Groaning deep in his chest, his eyes slammed shut as the explosions lit up every cell in his body.

Fuuuuucking hell…

His hands automatically went to Sigyn’s hips as she laced her fingers into his hair, tugging on the strands until he winced.

OW—the pain on his scalp only intensified his need to drive his hips into hers until his back ached from the effort.  Why couldn’t his tongue reach further into her mouth?  He walked her backwards, only vaguely aware that he was doing so because her black and white Adidas sneakers were squeaking on the linoleum.   Sigyn gasped into his mouth when the small of her back hit the edge of the sink under the office window, knocking over a jar of tongue depressors.  It started to roll off the counter, and she flailed a bit to reach behind her and set it right as Loki continued kissing her like his life depended on it.

Croaking Loki’s name against his lips, sounding like it pained her to keep quiet, Sigyn lifted her leg to wrap around his hip as best as she could given their height difference.  Where had this come from?  Sig had gone, not just from 0 to 60, but from 0 to 200 in three seconds.  He groaned, kissing her harder as her hands slid down his back and over his ass, dragging him impossibly closer.  Holy—did she want him to fuck her right here in her doctor’s office?

I’m down for it if you are, sweetheart.

Reaching under her thighs, he lifted her onto the counter and yanked her to the edge.

Finally.  Finally.  FINALLY.

Just as he popped open the button of her shorts, someone knocked on the door. 

It was official—the universe despised him.

I swear I’m gonna burn this place to the ground.

Sigyn let out a little shriek, disentangling herself from Loki at lightning speed, and she dropped her feet to the ground.  She leaned back casually against the edge with a classic “nothing to see here” expression.  Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she started whistling when the door swung open and the PA walked in.

“Hi, I’m Christine,” the woman’s voice was warm and gentle, and Loki loathed it right now. “Sorry for the wait.  Two of our staff called in sick today, and we’ve had to make do at a snail’s pace.”

As Sigyn introduced herself, he slid his hands into his pockets, willing the…uh…pressing…situation in his trousers away.  He was halfway back to normal, which was good enough, so he turned around and offered a smile, which the woman returned.

“Loki,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you.  Husband?”

Oh don’t I wish.

“Boyfriend,” he shook his head.

Not good enough.  Change that.  I mean- forever dream girl, right?

He looked sideways, eyeing said girl.  She looked back at him, one eyebrow to her hairline, and suddenly his heart was out the gate faster than a triple crown champion.

Sigyn…

…Odinson.

She tilted her head, a frown pulling at her oh so pretty mouth that he wanted to put his all over.

“Boyfriends are more fun anyway,” Christine chuckled, gesturing for Sigyn to sit on the exam bed.

Eh.  He laughed.  Sort of?  Not really.  It was an attempt.  Convincing enough to keep the atmosphere light and airy.  Speaking of air…he needed some.

“Do you mind if I leave for a moment, Sig?” he asked, giving her a pleading look.

“No, go right ahead,” she said, then grabbed his wrist to stop him as he walked past her, “don’t take too long, okay?”

“Of course,” he kissed her forehead quickly and disappeared behind the door.

Walking back down the long winding hall toward the exit, he passed the checkout area where several staff members in dark blue scrubs were milling about.  It took him a few seconds to realize he’d seen a hardback copy of Starboy sticking out of a messenger bag sitting on top of the desk behind the counter.  And then he heard it-

Multiple gasps and “oh my gods” from behind said counter.

Okay, he was not famous enough to get such reactions everywhere, so being recognized by—Loki did a quick headcount—seven staff members of this one office was an absolute shock, especially since Shaun hadn’t said anything, and neither had Christine.  It was flattering, to be sure, but with everything going on in his personal life lately, interactions with fans drained him more than they ought to.  For that reason, Loki was tempted to give them a little wave and move on, but these lovely people (receptionists? nurses?) pointing to his book and giving him several thumbs up and waving at him had infectious beaming smiles that he couldn’t resist. 

Grinning crookedly, Loki turned and walked back to the counter with a finger over his mouth.  He gestured for someone to give him the book, and the young man who grabbed it for him put one shaking hand on his forehead and one on his chest like he couldn’t breathe, but he kept his voice low.

“Ho-ly shit. Loki Fucking Odinson.”

“Not my middle name, but I’ll take it,” Loki smirked, raising an eyebrow at the young man when he put both hands over his cheeks. Loki flipped open the front cover and grabbed a pen from the cup next to a display of business cards and a bottle of hand sanitizer.

“You are a king,” the man said, watching Loki’s hand as he wrote what was quickly turning into a short essay across the page.

“Am I?” Loki smiled, keeping his eyes on the page. “Glad I finally leveled up from prince.”

“Nah, you leveled up to a god,” another of them cut in.

“Can’t level up to a god until book three,” Loki grinned at her from under his brow, and like her co-worker, she covered her cheeks which had turned red.

The guy who had handed him the book leaned over the counter to look at the page as Loki continued writing.

“Would you make it out to Troy?”

“Sure thing, darling,” Loki replied. “Spelled T-R-O-Y, I assume?”

Troy nodded adamantly, his eyes popping, and he to his co-workers, mouthing “darling?! I. Am. Dying.”

“I’m not worth dying for, Troy, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Loki chuckled, handing the book back.

Troy gaped at the page, tracing his thumb over the slanted handwriting, then he looked up at Loki, offering it back to him.  Head tilting, Loki lifted an eyebrow.

“Something wrong with it?”

“NO,” Troy said immediately, shaking his head, “no no no no.  This is absolutely…my god, I can’t even.  I thought it would be generic, like, ‘best wishes, from LO’ or something.  And I just…would you, um, read this out loud?  I feel like I need to hear it to get it.  Not that I have reading comprehension problems or anything.  It’s just- it’s yours, you know?  I went to that signing in Brooklyn in fall 2016, and you read an excerpt, and your voice speaking your words is like…it just really kicks me in the chest.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Loki said quietly, running a hand through his hair.  He exhaled, staring at his own words.

“Is it January?” Loki read, pausing to take a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together.  Troy had a good point.  This kid wasn’t the only one who was about to get kicked in the chest.

Shit—my voice is going to crack like a goddamn teenage BOY. 

Licking his lips, Loki started again.

“Is it January?  The parking garage shouldn’t be this hot.  

I turn down the A/C, unable to look at anything other than her.

I didn’t know she would look this good in my passenger seat.

I want to lock this girl in here with me.

I’m rolling hard, but I didn’t take anything other than her hand.

This girl is a dealer’s dream.  I would give anything to keep her.

I think all she has to do is ask.  She asks what my name is.

Her voice is expensive, fine pinot noir.  Soft.  Silken.  Subtle.  Complex.

It should be paired with everything I am.

Everything but my name.  My name is mine alone.  I’m keeping it.

I tell her I am called many things:

Downer.  Upper.  Hater.  Faker.  Taker.

Never-Let-Them-See-You-Breaker.

She shakes her head, and her hair is a waterfall over her shoulder.

My hands want to swim in it.  I don’t let them.  I know I’ll drown.

She licks her perfect teeth and climbs onto my lap.

I cannot breathe.  She pulls me in too close.  I am in a stranglehold.

This Helen of Troy.  This destructive Siren.  This little white rabbit.

I don’t want to go to Wonderland.  I can’t take another bad trip.

I’m following her anyway.  Wonderland might be perfect this time.

If I’m going to spiral, I want it to be into her.

What’s your name, she asks again.  

Stop singing to me, beautiful girl.  I’m not ready to die.

I think my name might be Alice, and I think I will follow this girl anywhere.

I cannot tell her my name.  It’s mine.

I say they call me many things:

Bar-boy.  Car-boy.

Put-Another-Dollar-In-The-Jar-Boy.

Watch-Out-Or-He’ll-Break-Your-Heart-Boy.

Forever-Trying-Too-Hard-Boy.

Won’t-Go-Very-Far-Boy.

Dying-Star-Boy.

That’s the one, she says.

Which one?  I said a thousand things, and I don’t remember any of it.

She blinks at me with iridescent eyes.  Are they silver?

I think they are stars.

I think infinite light years fill the space between us.

I think I’ll die before I get the chance to be anywhere near her.

You are the last one, she says.

What was the last one?  Dying Star Boy?

I think she’s right.  I think that might be all I am.

She shakes her head again.  Her hair is in my face.

This girl is filling my lungs, and I’m still trying not to drown.

I don’t think anyone else would care if I did, but I’m not ready.

Not ready to die.  Not yet.

There is an echo somewhere in my car.  It’s her voice.

It tells me I’m not dying.

I think I am, beautiful girl.

Her velvet mouth burns my cheek.  It moves to my ear.

I won’t let you die, Starboy, I swear.

This girl is not a siren.  This girl is my savior.

I grab her hair, and she begs for my name.

I give it to her.  I’ll give her anything she wants.

I don’t care if I drown…” Loki paused, sucking in his cheeks before letting out a heavy breath and finishing what he’d written. “Some things are worth drowning for, Troy.  Find those things, grab them, and don’t let go.  Loki Odinson x.”

Clearing his throat as he closed the book, Loki turned his head away from them, coughing into his arm to cover up the sound of the sniffle that he couldn’t control. 

Goddammit—stupid fucking tears. 

The silence was deafening for a few seconds, and Loki had the urge to run out the door.  However, he turned back to them instead, only after blinking away the evidence of more emotion than he could handle right now.  Finally the silence broke.

“Did you just come up with that?” the woman next to Troy asked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

Rather than risk responding verbally when he felt like a vulnerable wreck, Loki nodded, setting the book back into Troy’s waiting hand.

“Ugh, your mind,” she seemed to choke on the word, putting a hand over her eyes.

My mind is a disaster.

“Grade A 100% pure talent right there,” another said.

Trust me, it’s not worth it.

He heard his father’s voice echoing painfully loud in the prison bars of his “grade A 100% pure talented” mind.  It grated on his ears, fighting with his mother on the other side of a dark red and gold painted wall in a Tribeca palace overlooking an eight million strong city after a long day of earning enough cash to drown in on bubbled pieces of glass and steel in a concrete jungle of mostly shattered hopes and neon pipe dreams…

“What is WRONG with him, Frigga? 27-year old BOY. Is it the pills? Do the pills make him cry like that? I didn’t raise him to be weak.” … “He has NEVER EVER been weak. FULL STOP.” … “Ha. Tell that to all those drugs he uses to poison himself.” … “You talk as though he doesn’t need his DOCTOR-PRESCRIBED medication!” … “No, what he needs is to use that top Ivy league education that I PAID FOR like an actual grown up and do something of VALUE with his life.” … “And what is that exactly? Go on. Please educate me on what YOU value. Because you clearly don’t value YOUR OWN SON.” … “I value an ACTUAL MAN who doesn’t rely on pharmaceuticals to stop that pathetic water buildup in his eyes! I swear I need to find a jar, label it ‘Loki’s Tears’, and I ought to make him put a dollar in it for every damn one of them!”

Forehead creasing, Loki pressed his lips together lest they openly wobble pathetically, and put on a smile for the excited group of people standing in front of him.  These people seemed to think he had done something of value.   Then it occurred to him that he wanted to keep the words from Troy’s copy.  He had indeed just come up with it on the spot, and after a month of nothing worthwhile from his head, this might as well have been a masterpiece.

“Troy, I need to take a quick photo of the inside of your book.”

Troy gave it to him without hesitation. “Yeah of course.  I was wondering if it was something you might want for, I don’t know, book three…maybe?” He smiled big and toothy at the young author on the other side of the counter.

“Exactly,” Loki snorted softly at the wiggling of Troy’s eyebrows, “now listen, I’ll make you a deal, which is obviously being recorded on your friend’s phone,” he side-eyed the girl to his left who had been filming the entire interaction, though not rudely.

“I will include you in the dedication for book three if you do not share these two pages on any of your social media accounts.  And,” Loki added, holding up a finger when Troy made the most disappointed face in the history of humanity, “I will tag you in the caption of this photo that I post on my Insta today.  I’ll speak highly of you.  All of you.” He looked around at the group. “Sound good?”

They responded with a chorus of “hell yeahs” and bouncy nods that put a genuine smile on his face.

“Good,” Loki said, opening up the notes app on his phone, “let me take down your names and socials, so I don’t miss any of you in the tags.  Then I’ll take a quick photo with you all if you like.”

After getting their information, there was a bit of a scramble as everyone gathered into one group shot, then there were hugs all around because they deserved it, and Loki wanted it.  He wanted these hugs from (non-creepy) lovely people who actually gave some semblance of a damn about him. 

He pointed to the hall of exam rooms. “I don’t recall which room Shaun took Sigyn Frey to?”

One of them—um… Daniel, that’s right—piped up suddenly.

“Did you really write Sunlight for her?”

Loki didn’t want to answer, even though it was an obvious one.  Daniel nodded, clearly understanding Loki’s silence, then leaned down to check his computer screen.

“Looks like they took Ms. Frey to room 7.  Here, I’ll show you—”

“That’s alright,” Loki shook his head, smiling as he backed away, “I’ll just follow those convenient little numbers on the doors.”

They waved, and he turned around, walking toward the end of the hall.  Right as he touched the door handle, it swung open, and Sigyn’s face collided with his chest.

“Shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Loki said quietly, reaching up to steady her since she looked a bit dizzy.

“It’s okay,” Sigyn mumbled, then she looked up at him, “where’d you go?  I thought you were coming back?”

“I was…” he gestured vaguely toward the checkout counter with the staff, all of whom were looking at them with huge smiles.

Sigyn looked at them, then back at Loki, and smiled weakly.

“Glad you had a bright spot in your day,” she said, her sad gaze moving down from his, looking at her shoes as though they were the most fascinating things in the universe.

Loki’s eyebrows pulled together, and he shook his head.  Bright spot?  A bright spot?  As in, one bright spot?  Was Sig out of her damn mind?  Sunlight incarnate goes behind the clouds for a bit, and now imagines herself to not be the brightest thing anyone with working eyes would ever see?  And after that mind-blowing kiss fifteen minutes ago?  He squinted at her, eyes glazing over as jigsaw puzzle letters fell from the sky, effortlessly piecing themselves together amidst the chaotic sleep-deprived synapses deep inside his skull:

Ninety-three million miles away, this far-out-girl.

Blind when I look right at her, this gorgeous girl.

Drags me right into her, this magnetic girl.

Lights up every black sky, this electric girl.

Pushes winter back, this endless-summer-girl.

Sweat when we touch- come burn me up, girl.

Zero gravity- take me high as fuck, girl. 

Fly me to the stars, trip-trip-trippy-girl.

Getting runner’s high from this catch-me-if-you-can-girl.

Loves it when I hit the gas, this live-fast-die-right-girl.

How are you real?  Say my name all night, girl.

Hotter than hell. Don’t turn off the light, girl.

Not sleeping well, but it’ll be alright, girl.

Spread a little too thin, this everyone-else-first-girl.

Clouds are rolling in, this I-don’t-know-myself-girl.

Lost in the fog, this can’t-hear-me-when-I-call-her-girl.

Looking all around. I’ll die if you’re gone, girl.

Cling when we collide. So scared, but I’ve got you, girl.

That was…not bad.

Shit—already forgot it.

Shocking. Try WRITING IT DOWN next time, genius.

Loki just barely heard a muffled sound.  It might have been his name.  Hard to tell.  It was so far away.

“Hello?  Loki?  Anyone in there?”

Dammit.  Dammit.  Dammit.  He needed to stop drifting to la-la land without a pen and paper, or his laptop open, ready to record his “that’s not bad” words and store them away, safe from whatever train wreck of nonsensical words were bound to plow into them within ten seconds. The voice started again, as did a snapping sound in front of Loki’s eyes, breaking through the haze of—yep, there they were—nonsensical words now floating in his head.

“Huh?” He blinked, then reached up to rub his eyes, groaning because, god, it felt good.

“Your body is right here next to me, but your mind is in outer space, Starboy,” Sigyn said, clearly attempting a joke to cover up the pain in her eyes.

“Do you mind if we go to CVS on 6th and Spring before your place?  Christine sent my Rx there,” she added, handing Loki’s laptop bag to him, which he hadn’t seen on her shoulder until that moment.

Sigyn didn’t wait for him to answer.  She just took his hand and pulled him with her down the hall.  When they walked past the people who had just been fawning all over Loki, she slid her arm around his waist and held him tight enough to leave bruises.

After picking up Sigyn’s 30 day supply of 6mg of Ambien for sleep, she and Loki did not finish what they’d started in the office.  All afternoon and into the evening, she didn’t put her mouth near his, much less anywhere else.  She only took a pill, curled up next to him, gave him a terribly chaste kiss, and said she loved him so much it hurt. 

With one arm around his girl’s shoulders, Loki unlocked his phone and found the picture of Troy’s book.  Checking that he’d tagged the correct people, he posted the photo just as he’d promised, captioning it “met some absolute ROCKSTARS today, and one of them asked me to sign his copy of #Starboy. I might have gotten carried away.”

Loki stared at the image for a few minutes as the first rapid wave of notifications from all these people who clearly had him on their “he posted something!” list.

“God, Val, you absolute angel,” Loki said under his breath, reading his best friend’s comment, which was the sweetest thing EVER —

@val.k.brunna: OMG, Lo, hon, YOU are worth drowning for.

Then, Sam replied—

@falconfitness_swilson: gonna hit you in the face for hittin me in the feels like this starboy #cryininthegym

—and Loki laughed hard enough to go into a coughing fit.

“Cryin’ in the gym,” he croaked softly. “Seriously, Sam?  Hit me in the face, and I’ll stab yours.”

Sigyn groaned, her face screwing up. “Cryin what?  Ah…so loud.  Ding…ding…bing…bing.”

“Yes, it’s a bit much.  Sorry,” Loki said, setting the phone on his nightstand. “I silenced it.”

“What’s…going…on…” she slurred, yawning into his chest.

“You’ll see tomorrow, I assume.  I tagged you in the actual pic—” he stopped, frowning when he realized she was asleep.  He missed her.  Sig was finally sleeping, and it was so good for her. 

But he missed her. 

He wanted to talk, to laugh, to kiss, to fuck until his eyes crossed. Maybe it would happen tomorrow.  Maybe.

Please don’t make me wait another month for you, Sig.