[ The problem with having a recently broken nose is that the moment there's any force applied to the tissues that are already swollen and repairing it hurts like a bitch. Which means that Loki's hands go two places; one, to settle at Sylvie's waist so that she doesn't tumble any further, and the second to his nose, which hurts so bad he just tilts his head back while cursing under his breath, bag of pastries now in the place where Sylvie was sitting.

There an apology yelled their way from the driver of the carriage, which Loki ignores in favor of suddenly laughing. The magic dissipated in a shower of green and gold sparks, the last fragments of which still cling to the inner corners of the carriage car, but he felt it, and it was... ]

That was fucking amazing, [ he tells her once the pain in his face has subsided to a point that he can actually speak without wanting to shriek. ] Not the falling part but the rest of it. [ It doesn't dismay him that she's currently in his lap, but he's willing to bet she won't stay there for long; before he can think about it for too long, though, his face begins to throb again. ] Ach, [ he tilts his head upwards. ] Why are humans so fucking breakable?