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“No, they aren’t,” Loki murmurs, adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror. They make brief, reassuring eye contact with each other in the glass--something they do often. “They may hate me, and, well, most of them already do, you know, but they’d never hate you.”
Ororo raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know. You weren’t there when I first met them, after all. Balder definitely hates me. When I’m around, he always acts as though I’m not there, and the few occasions he’s spoken to me, it was as though he'd been addressing a child!”
“Balder is a shit,” Loki dismisses easily, placing a soothing hand on Ororo’s bare shoulder. “I think mother and father poured a bit too much of their love into that one…”
“And Sif--”
“Sif is also a shit--” he drops a kiss on her forehead before heading into the bedroom and calling out from there “--who wanted to be in your place.”
“Well, you know,” she begins conspiratorially as she too emerges from the bathroom, pads across the carpet, reaches up to tug on his lapels, “One can never be sure, of course. But I think she’d like to be in my place right now too,” she boops his nose with a wry smile. Loki frowns.
“Come again?”
Ororo spares him a single backwards glance with an eyebrow raised as she sashays towards the closet. “I think you know what I’m saying.”
“I...I don’t think I do,” Loki answers honestly. “Unless you’re saying--oh, no. Sif hates me. I mean, she actually abhors my existence.”
“Well, you know what they say. It’s a thin line, between love and hate.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Trust me. Woman’s intuition.”
“Alright then, my love. Anyway--” Loki comes up behind her while she’s bent over and places his hands on her hips. “I think we have a little extra time--don’t put on your shoes just yet.”