The First Date
That evening, I stood out front of the club waiting for Loki to arrive. At about nine, he walked up to the club, nonchalant as ever, rocking a pair of ripped black jeans and a hoodie that read Father of Evil. I grinned, and he waved back,
“Hey!” He sauntered over and I laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“Your hoodie!” He looked down at his chest.
“It’s a joke.” He said with a forlorn expression. “Nevermind. Shall we?” He gestured toward the entrance. I accepted the proffered arm and we walked inside.
After actually dancing for about an hour, we decided to have a drink. We sat down in a little nook with cushioned chairs, and Loki asked me,
“So, what do you want?” I thought for a second, then said,
“I don’t know anything called Whatever,” He batted his eyes; feigning confusion. I rolled my eyes.
“No, dumb-ass. I mean, just get me something, I don’t care what. Just make sure it has some kick.” He grinned his sly grin for the tenth time this night and walked over to the bar. A few minutes later, he walked back, carrying two glasses. He set one down in front of me, then sat down in front of me. He cast a look around us and winked at a group of girls dancing nearby, all of whom giggled and blushed. I slapped Loki’s arm,
“Stop that. You’re supposed to be my date.” He blushed shamefacedly.
“Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess.” I glared playfully, then laughed. I liked how he was able to make me laugh. It had been a long time since someone -other than Chloe- could make me laugh so much. I took a sip of my drink. Immediately, my senses were on fire. I downed the rest of it. I set my glass on the table, and Loki smiled knowingly.
“Like it? I’ll get you another.”
A couple drinks later we were up and dancing again. Everything was a haze. Loki and I danced together for a while, but even in my severely drunk state, I noticed him slowly begin to move away, until he slipped out of the crowd into a dimly lit back wall. I followed him to a door, and he ducked through it. I waited a few minutes, peeked out, saw nothing, than followed him. The door lead to an abandon parking lot. It was a grey and dismal scene, except for Loki standing in the middle arguing with someone. I couldn’t hear most of their argument, but it was clearly heated. The guy Loki was arguing with was huge, towering over him at almost seven feet, with large, overly muscular arms and chest, and a bushy red beard. Loki was talking animatedly, raising his voice, and I caught snatches of his words,
“Not my fault... Protect her... I'm not a god... Thor's problem, not... Aseir will kill... Go away!" At this point, my brain had gone into overdrive. Steal what? I know that name, Thor, if only I could remember. Who is Skirnir? Who are the Aseir, and who will they kill? At that point, I decided I must be hallucinating. I must have had way too much to drink. I stumbled back inside, ignoring the door that slammed behind me.