[ He's suspected, from time to time, that he manages to wake her even when he tries his hardest not to. It makes sense. Probably. He's never had someone sleep with him as often as Alexandrie does. Or be as involved in his daily life. Which are both great and excellent things, to be quite honest.
He knows how to lie and keep people at arm's length. He doesn't know how to lie and do this. This...thing, which is actually very important to him.
Maybe that's not so bad. ]
Can't sleep, [ he admits quietly. A hand comes up to rest between her shoulders. ] I'm sorry if I woke you.
[ It would send her to sleep if she didn’t want so much to stay awake with him, the weight of his hand against her skin. The simplicity of the touch.
She wants to do this too; to bring him the same kind of peace with her shifting, her curling into him again, her hand coming to settle high on his chest with its fingers relaxed and curving. ]
I am made more glad to be awake with you than I am to think of sleeping.
[ A murmur as her hand raises to lay featherlight fingertips on his cheek before returning to its place at his chest. Another soft press of her lips, the bend of her head to tuck beneath his chin. ]
[ Loki sighs a little, easily shifting to accommodate her. Is it ever just one thing? Probably not. Probably it is a lifetime, a long lifetime, full of bad decisions and worries and concerns that he's waiting to rise up from the depths of history and come back to bite him. ]
I dream of home, sometimes; of Asgard. Usually it's...nice? But not always...
[ Sometimes he dreams of Ragnarok. Sometimes he dreams of Thor's death when the planet explodes. Or of Sylvie's. Or his own.
They had made her husband tense and wake as well. First kept to himself, then when he could not hide them he had placed himself at a furtive remove from her in those moments, so used to carrying everything alone.
It is a habit, being alone. A habit Alexandrie is not of a mind to let Loki keep, and so her nose is raising to gently nudge his jawline, and her hand is wandering to touch the ends of his hair. ]
[ A sigh, as he tries to settle. To put distance between himself and the nightmares. ]
Have I told you...about my fate, in the Sacred Timeline? [ He shakes his head. ] What I was supposed to do was become realized as not the villain, and then die, in that short order. To further Thor's story, perhaps. I don't really know.
[ Loki swallows. ]
I dream about the death I was shown. About it going wrong, and my brother dying in my stead; I dream about the death of Asgard, about the planet's firey demise, and my brother, my father, my mother there.
I survive. And everyone who remains blames me for those deaths.
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no subject
He knows how to lie and keep people at arm's length. He doesn't know how to lie and do this. This...thing, which is actually very important to him.
Maybe that's not so bad. ]
Can't sleep, [ he admits quietly. A hand comes up to rest between her shoulders. ] I'm sorry if I woke you.
no subject
She wants to do this too; to bring him the same kind of peace with her shifting, her curling into him again, her hand coming to settle high on his chest with its fingers relaxed and curving. ]
I am made more glad to be awake with you than I am to think of sleeping.
[ A murmur as her hand raises to lay featherlight fingertips on his cheek before returning to its place at his chest. Another soft press of her lips, the bend of her head to tuck beneath his chin. ]
What keeps you waking?
no subject
I dream of home, sometimes; of Asgard. Usually it's...nice? But not always...
[ Sometimes he dreams of Ragnarok. Sometimes he dreams of Thor's death when the planet explodes. Or of Sylvie's. Or his own.
Sometimes it's all of those things. ]
no subject
They had made her husband tense and wake as well. First kept to himself, then when he could not hide them he had placed himself at a furtive remove from her in those moments, so used to carrying everything alone.
It is a habit, being alone. A habit Alexandrie is not of a mind to let Loki keep, and so her nose is raising to gently nudge his jawline, and her hand is wandering to touch the ends of his hair. ]
Tell me?
no subject
Have I told you...about my fate, in the Sacred Timeline? [ He shakes his head. ] What I was supposed to do was become realized as not the villain, and then die, in that short order. To further Thor's story, perhaps. I don't really know.
[ Loki swallows. ]
I dream about the death I was shown. About it going wrong, and my brother dying in my stead; I dream about the death of Asgard, about the planet's firey demise, and my brother, my father, my mother there.
I survive. And everyone who remains blames me for those deaths.