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Good night, my moonlight
Come and embrace me deeply
Lie on the ripples of the embroidered night sky
Perhaps you don't know how pretty your light is
It is times like these that Loki feels like he is dreaming, but the heat of your bare skin against his blazes once more, and he is reminded that this is all so very real .
Outside the window, the sky is pitch black, and moonlight filters slightly through the blinds. Your back is pressed against his front, and his arm is draped across your stomach, both of your legs intertwined. There’s a pressure between his eyes; a feeling in his chest that winds around his heart that he can’t quite name.
Loki brings his hand to brush softly against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He marvels at your relaxed face: the furrow in your brow long gone, your lips parted ever so slightly, the occasional flutter of your lashes—the smallest features that he truly adores. You shiver at his touch, snuggling further into his chest, and Loki swears he can feel his heart stop. That feeling takes hold of him again.
He recalls how you had looked at him that one night when the world seemed at its emptiest, had held his face in your hands like he would shatter at the slightest movement. You had brushed his tears away with the most tender of touches.
You did not fear him like others did, you did not recoil like others did, did not gaze at him with the contempt he was subjected to on Asgard and Midgard, did not treat him like he was nothing, worse than nothing, like how his father did. You accepted him wholeheartedly for everything he was, frost giant heritage included. You looked at him with nothing but adoration. His heart seizes.
He remembers how, at your touch, the nightmares that had tormented his mind and body just minutes before had effortlessly melted away. Unspoken emotions swirled in your eyes, glossy with unshed tears. The two of you just stayed in that position for seconds, minutes, Loki didn’t know—still like a moment frozen in time.
Then you had whispered something, and all of a sudden it was like the wall that Loki had built crumbled into nothingness, and a myriad of indiscernible emotions crashed into him.
“Loki,” his name fell softly from your tongue so naturally. “No matter what they say, you… are not a monster. You never were.”
And he had kissed you because he did not know what else to do. Kissed you all while his tears ran uncontrollably down his cheeks. He kissed you till he was breathless, pouring out his heart, soul, and entirety into you. A feeling so overwhelming engulfed his entire being, clouding his mind and filling it with nothing but thoughts of you. And he could not do anything but hold you as close as possible because he didn’t know what to do with himself—with such a foreign and passionate emotion coursing through his veins, so that’s what he did. He held you so tightly to his chest that he could feel the rapid thumping of your heart that beat in tandem with his. His head found its way into the crook of your neck, and his tears slowly dampened the skin there while his hands came to rest on the small of your back.
Loki recalls how you had wrapped your arms around his quivering form and embraced him with such pure, devoted something , like you had belonged in his arms and he in yours.
He inhales a shuddering breath. The pressure between his eyes builds and builds and builds and then—
“Loki?” you mumble. The pressure instantly vanishes as if it had never been there in the first place. An arm wiggles its way out of the tangle of limbs and flips your phone up. The bright light makes you wince, and you blink rapidly before discerning the number.
The screen reads: 4:48 AM.
A groan escapes you. “Goddamnit, Loki. Go back to sleep—”
Your body tenses in sudden realization, and you carefully whisper, “Did you have another nightmare?”
Loki pulls your arm back to him and replies softly, “No, darling. I simply was… reminiscing.”
At his words, your body relaxes, and you turn around in his grasp to face him. You then lightly tap the spot between his furrowed brows.
“Reminisce later,” you scold. “Gods need sleep too!”
A smile tugs at his lips, and his hand moves to stroke your head. You hum contentedly, melting into his touch.
“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he chuckles.
Before you drift off back to sleep, you manage to slur, “G’night, love you.”
Loki’s lips part.
It’s two simple words, but it’s enough to send Loki’s body into a frenzy. His mind feels hazy with pure euphoria.
Love. So that’s what this feeling is.
“I love you, too,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses a tender kiss to your shoulder.
By the Norns, I love you. I love you to the moon and back. I love the way you make me feel like I am worthy of being loved. I love the way you look at me, like I deserve the world. I love the way you call me yours, because I am yours. Forever yours to hold, to kiss, to love, and to be with until the end of time.
I love you.
Gold Dust
NCT 127