[There hadn't been such a drastic change by the time Verity had returned to her own apartment. More than anything else, sleeping with Loki had probably returned things to being more normal between them, the awkward misunderstandings of physical attraction in the middle having been quite an unnecessary annoyance more than anything, and it was fairly nice.
But everything is as it is, everything except for the now seemingly permanent smell of apple that almost seems to follow her at a constant. Her missing of Loki while not having him around is old news, though it's met with a huffing smile and a nice memory this time instead of the usual depth of worry. She's more relaxed overall, managing to get through an extra page or two tonight in Pride and Prejudice, the nagging still in the back of her head but almost easier to ignore.
When she gets the call, it's hardly too late on her end, though she's hardly dressed up for a video conversation — sweats, t-shirt, messy braids, no bra, no makeup — but it's Loki, who knows her most from any angle and she can't even be annoyed.
Sitting up and pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, she answers with a raised brow.] I'm still not calling it that, you know.
You didn't have to dress up just for me, you know.
[ Grinning at the sight of her (did she fall down the stairs or roll around vigorously shortly before he called?) with pink hair a mess and slouchies on, the rest of the apartment falls away as he lets the wards do their job, devoting his attention to bothering her. ]
No? Maybe send a memo about that next time so I wouldn't slave away at trying to make an impression.
[She pretends to pout for a fast moment as she smacks her lips together before she slides the book's cover up into view.] The usual. Typical nineteenth century love story composed of two uptight people passive aggressively being angry at each other. Well worth the headache.
[Not that she was much of an expert in that department since most of her own relationships jumped into the failure pile because all romance consisted of was more lies after another, remembering time after time hearing boys say I love you and never once meaning it.]
So what is it you need? [A tease more than anything, still playing with the idea that her best friend only shoots a call over with the followup of either asking for a favor or giving a severe warning of some new psychotic resident.]
[ Brows rising under a sweep of floppy black hair, he shrugs. ]
I wasn't aware I needed a reason to call. Um, let's see. [ Very obviously looking around the room for something to submit, he draws it out. ] Hang on ...
[Pressing her lips into a slow-forming smile as she watches him peer around the room, she rests an elbow on the knee of a cross leg, settling her chin down in her hand as keeps her eyes on him.]
I'm sure there's something. [Though she likes to hear from him, no reasons necessary, all the more nice to be remembered despite as such.] Is it the lack of pies that have you down?
[Verity has to tilt her head down to dig her face into her palm to control the blurting laughter that slips out. Poop jokes: the magic of best friendship, really.]
I'm actually very offended that you'd even try to rid your body of my fantastic accomplishments.
Oh, sure. As you can see, I'm drowning in the sorrow of your lacking presence. [She gives a soft snort, rolling her eyes at those lashes before leaning back on her pillow.]
Even if I wanted to, I can't. You made sure marching into your place wasn't a possibility.
[The mystery apartment she only ever sees from the inside when he wills her there.]
The wards feature blood magic, that's why Billy fainted when he teleported in. He was laid up on my couch for hours. [ By his tone, it was hilarious. After the intense concern, of course. ] If you want a key I can have one made, but I'll need some of your blood to work into the enchantment so you can pass the threshold without immediately wanting to kiss your previous meal if I'm not with you when you visit.
[Pursing her lips at the offer, she slumps against her pillow.]
I do like that blanket. And you do seem pretty desperate to see me — [Narrowing her eyes a bit, but ultimately smiling with a shrug.] Well, I don't have to leave the bed, so I think I can accept the deal.
[ Sniffing without comment to the desperate to see me, he sticks his nose in the air. A finger raises as Loki gets up, and the feed goes dead.
About thirty seconds later, after checking he has his phone and the apartment is secure, there's a green flare of light at the foot of Verity's bed and wisps of smoke rise up from the carpet as he steps into the room; it's usually very dramatic, as entrances go, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the fact there are jogging bottoms, a crumpled tee, and bedhead involved. Also bare feet, just to be rude.
Glancing over, he tosses the huge furry blanket at her head, giving himself a moment to acclimate to the overall difference of his place to hers. ]
[When there's suddenly a heavy but very soft blanket tossed over her, she doesn't have much of a chance to react to his sudden appearance before she's laughing, tugging it down. Tossing her book aside onto the night stand, she shifts over to provide some room beside her, snuggling the blanket under her chin.]
[ Climbing up the bed over the blankets, the hard way, he ferrets his way underneath the lumpy mess to drape an arm comfortably around her shoulders and tangle his free fingers in her top, sidling in like an uninvited cat. This is nice. Being around this much acceptance and easy kindness, it feels like spoiling himself.
Nosing his way around an ear, he chuckles lowly and makes a show of doing as he's told. ]
[She'd expected a quiet night of reading but instead gets a pleasant reminder of how nice it felt during the blizzard when they'd shared a bed. It's not often she lets people share such a close space like this, but Loki makes it easy. With his arms around her, fingers wandering as they are, she twists to turn towards him.]
You're playing too nice today. It's suspicious. [Even if his chuckles prompt some of her own.]
[ Nuzzles drift down the nape of her neck, slender hips twisting as they mold around each other in a warm, seemingly safe little world. It's only with Billy, these days, that he lets anyone touch him like this or doles out the same with a sliver of regularity, much easier with Verity; she doesn't have trouble trusting him, whether for better or worse. That sense of belief is precious, luring him in.
Louder, he calls against her skin without looking up, ] Verity has a boy in her room!
Loki! [A gaping mouth eventually slips into amused laughter before she slips a hand down between her skin and his mouth to quiet him down.] I swear, if you're here to be loud and a pain, I'm kicking you out. I mean it.
[Contrary to her actions, slipping a leg over his thigh as she grips either side of his jaw to pull him up, pressing her nose against his cheek where she leaves a playful nip.]
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But everything is as it is, everything except for the now seemingly permanent smell of apple that almost seems to follow her at a constant. Her missing of Loki while not having him around is old news, though it's met with a huffing smile and a nice memory this time instead of the usual depth of worry. She's more relaxed overall, managing to get through an extra page or two tonight in Pride and Prejudice, the nagging still in the back of her head but almost easier to ignore.
When she gets the call, it's hardly too late on her end, though she's hardly dressed up for a video conversation — sweats, t-shirt, messy braids, no bra, no makeup — but it's Loki, who knows her most from any angle and she can't even be annoyed.
Sitting up and pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, she answers with a raised brow.] I'm still not calling it that, you know.
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[ Grinning at the sight of her (did she fall down the stairs or roll around vigorously shortly before he called?) with pink hair a mess and slouchies on, the rest of the apartment falls away as he lets the wards do their job, devoting his attention to bothering her. ]
What's the book you were reading?
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[She pretends to pout for a fast moment as she smacks her lips together before she slides the book's cover up into view.] The usual. Typical nineteenth century love story composed of two uptight people passive aggressively being angry at each other. Well worth the headache.
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[ Correct him if he's wrong but someone seems confident in that pessimism. ]
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[Not that she was much of an expert in that department since most of her own relationships jumped into the failure pile because all romance consisted of was more lies after another, remembering time after time hearing boys say I love you and never once meaning it.]
So what is it you need? [A tease more than anything, still playing with the idea that her best friend only shoots a call over with the followup of either asking for a favor or giving a severe warning of some new psychotic resident.]
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I wasn't aware I needed a reason to call. Um, let's see. [ Very obviously looking around the room for something to submit, he draws it out. ] Hang on ...
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I'm sure there's something. [Though she likes to hear from him, no reasons necessary, all the more nice to be remembered despite as such.] Is it the lack of pies that have you down?
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Alas, I fear I'll be fifty before the last batch of your famous pies poop their way out.
[ #seduction ]
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I'm actually very offended that you'd even try to rid your body of my fantastic accomplishments.
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[ Lies, but good ones. ]
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You say one more rude thing about them and I'm marching on over with an entirely new batch.
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What can I say to prompt you marching over here minus food-related threats?
[ At midnight, yes. ]
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Is that what this is about? Having me over for an entire week wasn't enough for you?
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[ Batting his lashes, so generous. ]
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Even if I wanted to, I can't. You made sure marching into your place wasn't a possibility.
[The mystery apartment she only ever sees from the inside when he wills her there.]
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Or I can just stay here in my bed where it's nice and cozy, plenty warm and there's no dealings with any blood.
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[ It could only improve her nest, lbr. ]
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I do like that blanket. And you do seem pretty desperate to see me — [Narrowing her eyes a bit, but ultimately smiling with a shrug.] Well, I don't have to leave the bed, so I think I can accept the deal.
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About thirty seconds later, after checking he has his phone and the apartment is secure, there's a green flare of light at the foot of Verity's bed and wisps of smoke rise up from the carpet as he steps into the room; it's usually very dramatic, as entrances go, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the fact there are jogging bottoms, a crumpled tee, and bedhead involved. Also bare feet, just to be rude.
Glancing over, he tosses the huge furry blanket at her head, giving himself a moment to acclimate to the overall difference of his place to hers. ]
Move over then, Willis.
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You could at least say please.
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Nosing his way around an ear, he chuckles lowly and makes a show of doing as he's told. ]
Please ... ?
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You're playing too nice today. It's suspicious. [Even if his chuckles prompt some of her own.]
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[ Nuzzles drift down the nape of her neck, slender hips twisting as they mold around each other in a warm, seemingly safe little world. It's only with Billy, these days, that he lets anyone touch him like this or doles out the same with a sliver of regularity, much easier with Verity; she doesn't have trouble trusting him, whether for better or worse. That sense of belief is precious, luring him in.
Louder, he calls against her skin without looking up, ] Verity has a boy in her room!
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[Contrary to her actions, slipping a leg over his thigh as she grips either side of his jaw to pull him up, pressing her nose against his cheek where she leaves a playful nip.]
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