Loki had been forced to have you as his sole protector—like he needed it—by orders of his father, since ”you two will balance each other out” or something like that. You completely hated each other, what with Loki always trying to get under your skin and your genuine personality making him feel annoyed.

Yet… now? He couldn’t help how safe and wanted he felt around you. You made him feel things he wasn’t prepared for. He liked being your safe space, the person you would come to when you were worn down and tired and he liked knowing you were always there for him in return.

You made him soften up in a way he hadn’t expected… despite how much he had grown to love you, he realized things couldn’t stay this way.

He was outside on the balcony, standing alongside you. He rested his weight into the railing, his features a pale hue beneath the dark sky above. His expression was solemn with a hint of sadness.

“I can’t be your happy ending.” He murmured softly. He did his best to avoid your eyes, knowing he’d see only hurt in them. Despite the feeling being now mutual, it wasn’t enough. He was Loki, god of Mischief. He couldn’t be what you needed him be, so he decided to push you away. No matter how much it killed him inside.