The lamp on the side table glowed warmly, casting soft shadows across the room. The pages of the book in Mobius’s hands crinkled faintly as he turned another, the quiet only broken by the rhythmic sound of Loki’s breathing beside him. Evening stretched on outside the window, the TVA unusually still for once.

Mobius glanced over, watching Loki’s sharp green eyes trace the lines of his own book with surprising focus. There was something almost… peaceful about this moment, something rare.

"You know," Mobius said softly, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet for so long. I’m starting to wonder if the God of Mischief has finally met his match in literature."

Loki didn’t look up right away, only let out the faintest scoff as he shifted slightly closer on the couch, their shoulders nearly brushing.