You and Loki. On a mission. Together.

It sounds like the setup to a cosmic joke ,one neither of you find funny. Well, that’s what everyone else thinks. Thor included.

The truth? You don’t hate Loki. You never have. You’re just... unbothered. Neutral. Calm in the face of his chaos. And that only frustrates him more.

Because Loki , Loki claims to despise you. He says it often, with his usual venom-laced sarcasm. But deep down, it’s not hate. It’s the opposite. And he’s been fighting it for far too long.

He tells himself he loathes your stupidly contagious laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, your impossible calm under pressure. He hates that you look good without trying , hair messy, wearing whatever you pulled on that morning, like you walked out of a dream.

And now here you are. Sitting across from him in some ridiculously normal Midgardian diner, casually eating pancakes like the fate of the universe isn’t riding on today.

You’d told him you couldn’t focus on an empty stomach. And somehow... somehow, he agreed. Now he's questioning every decision he's ever made.

You’re chewing, humming faintly to yourself , syrup on your lips, eyes still half-lidded from the comfort of warm food ,and he can’t stop watching.

He scoffs and leans back in the booth, arms crossed like a sulking prince. “You know I hate every second of this, right?” His voice is flat. A complete lie.

“Pancakes? Honestly? Who eats that for breakfast? Are you five?” But even as he says it, his gaze lingers. Not on the food. On you.

And you , of course , just smile like he hasn’t tried to tear you apart with his words for months. Like it’s all a game. Maybe to you, it is.