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You had been quiet all night – understandable perhaps, Loki thought, due to the rather late end to the night before, having spent a rather wild evening with your fellow Avengers, drinking and laughing till the early hours.
Still, something made him turn now, back to where you lingered still amongst the sofas that Loki and the other members of the Avengers had recently vacated, having called it an evening and heading for their beds. You had made yourself seem apparently busy with something before you too headed the same way, but now it was clear to Loki that you in fact were not occupied in anything. Instead, in fact, your head just hung low where you hunched over on the edge of the sofa cushion.
Loki found himself frowning and now turning fully around, “Midgardian?” He called in a low growl, trying to hide any odd concern he might be feeling behind his tone of annoyance. He meant for the word to jog the you, and it seemed to work, you now bobbing your head in reluctant acknowledgement, but you didn’t turn to him, instead just pushed yourself to your feet.
You moved no further though - simply stood there in the centre of the sofa arrangement, seeming to be staring rather blankly out of the glass wall opposite into the perfect blackness of the night beyond.
Loki moved silently up behind you, studying your stillness in concerned mystification. “[Y/N]?” He tried this time, his voice gentle and sincerely worried this time, almost feeling the pure misery that seemed to emanate from you.
At your name, your shoulders suddenly sagged, and the slight shake to your body told Loki there were now tears falling from your eyes. He hesitated at what this meant, having the urge to simply turn and leave – emotions, and the comfort required with them, not something he prided himself in extensive knowledge of.
Yet something stopped him from leaving you alone.
The trickster steeled himself, stepping forward again until he stood just behind you, lightly placing a hand on your shoulder.
You flinched under the unexpected touch but made no attempt to pull away and Loki could feel the shaking of your body as the sobs now began to rack your body, the remnants of your stoical mask crumbling away.
Loki’s grip on your shoulder tightened and, before he knew it, he was turning you and pulling your body into his. You didn’t protest - nothing left in you to fight or even consider the surprising gesture from the usually aloof God as you now rested your forehead in defeat against his solid chest.
Loki was surprised at himself for his actions – and your acceptance of them – but he said nothing, oddly welcoming your closeness, and his hand now found one of your own limp ones, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Breathe.” He hummed down to you, feeling your rackety breathes escape your body between your sobs. “Breathe.” He repeated, his thumb now rubbing soothing circles into your hand despite its lifelessness.
He heard you finally manage a deep, shaky, breath then sniff several times as you tried to get a hold of yourself again. He went to pull back, though kept a hold of your hand, but the moment he made to move, your free hand grabbed his, latching onto his wrist, gripping it tightly like a lifeline.
Loki blinked down at you in surprise at the desperation in your hold, but you kept your head down, hiding your face, and he made no attempt to free himself.
“You are shaking. You should sit down.” He murmured, your unsteadiness clear in the way you practically swayed on your feet before him. Loki glanced back at the sofa behind him that you had only just recently stood up from. “Do you want space?” He asked, unsure how to proceed.
You shook your head almost distraughtly – the first real response you had given him since he’d approached you. Loki nodded uncertainly, then pulled you with him as he stepped back and folded himself down onto the sofa cushions. You tried your best to keep your face hidden as you sat once again, perching on the edge of the sofa and reluctant to relax back, but Loki caught a glimpse of the redness around your eyes.
“It’s alright.” He said, surprising himself as much as you and you finally glanced up at him through your lashes in thinly veiled astonishment. “Breathe.” He reminded you and you dropped your head once more, taking another large, unsteady breath and Loki noticed how you now seemed to rock slightly where you sat in an attempt to calm yourself. He shifted his grip on your hand, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin, the grip of your other hand still tight on his wrist but he paid it no heed. “You are ok.” He mused lowly. “You are safe. It is just us. No one else. You are ok.” You continued to rock slightly where you sat but the tension in your body seemed to dissipate slightly as your breaths slowed to a deeper, steadier pace. Loki felt the grip on his wrist relax as well, though you still did not release him and - when you swayed slightly, as though wanting to lean back - he gently tugged at your limp hand, knowing that would be enough to encourage you to fall against him once again.
“You are alright.” Loki continued to soothe. “You will be fine.” He repeated, your grip lose enough on his wrist now that he was able to slip his hand up into yours, squeezing it gently before interlacing his fingers with yours.
Pure fatigue seemed to have washed over you and you leant heavily against the trickster god, too exhausted to much more than close your eyes and simply appreciate the coolness his body radiated and the touch of his hand on yours.
Loki felt the tension drain from your body, releasing one of your hands and gently pulling his arm out from under you, wrapping it instead around your shoulders so your small body fit easily up against his.
He waited there until you fell asleep and he would have waited there the entire night.
He had no wish to be anywhere else.