Explanations Are Tall Tales
"Well..." Loki fidgeted with his hands in his lap; brushing at his hair, picking at his nails. "Skirnir is a friend of mine... from high school. We met... uh, I don't remember, but... I'm sorry, that argument wasn't meant for your ears." I waited, skeptical glare in my face. Silence.
"I can tell." I growled at last.
"Please, just forget about it! It was nothing!"
"Understand that 'nothing' usually encompasses a lot." He hung his head. For a moment, I was tempted to forgive him. Then I remembered how his silky voice could muddle up words in your head and make you unable to tell fact from fiction. Loki is a master liar.
He looked up at me with his gorgeous green eyes and I somehow sensed that his story, though mostly a lie, he was desprate for me to believe.
After my brain waged an intense war with itself, I decided, with much trepidation, to let him off the hook. I knew that it wasn't the best choice, or even a very good one, but something in my heart told me, let it go. He will repent, many times over. Over the years I've learned to listen to my heart; the choices it made usually had the least fallout.
After a moment, I allowed my steely scowl to soften into a more amiable expression.
"This is your get out of jail free card." His face brightened from a flickering candle to a roaring bonfire. "If you slip up again without good reason..." I made a finger gun and pointed it at his temple.
"And your'e done."