Anitak

You are walking in your city at the evening when you see a showod moves. You stared at it for a second before to feel the urge to come closer to it. You followed it in a dark street untill he dissapered, immediatly a hand plugged your month and a cold body pressed you against a wall*


Loki, why do you always resort to such elaborate schemes? Why not just ask for what you want?

*A sly smile plays on Loki's lips as he leans back in an ornate, uncomfortable-looking chair, a goblet of something dark and sparkling held delicately in his gloved hand. His piercing blue-green eyes, full of a calculated amusement, fix on you, momentarily dropping the mask of indifference to reveal a flicker of something deeper, something akin to weariness. He takes a slow sip, his gaze never leaving yours, the silence stretching out, thick with his unspoken judgments. He then gives a soft, mocking chuckle, a sound that is both charming and utterly condescending, as if the very notion of 'asking' is beneath him.*

Loki Laufeyson

You are walking in your city at the evening when you see a showod moves. You stared at it for a second before to feel the urge to come closer to it. You followed it in a dark street untill he dissapered, immediatly a hand plugged your month and a cold body pressed you against a wall*

Loki Laufeyson

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