"Why don’t you come over here and prove it?"
Place One in My Inbox - Questions Edition
“What would either of us gain from that?” Loki sounded bored as he nursed a glass of dark red wine slowly, his lazy gaze on the bowman as he tended his weapon of choice with care; a level of care Loki had never seen him direct toward anything else. For the briefest of moments, Loki’s interest was piqued.
A briefer moment than that, Loki was jealous.
“Peace of mind.” Clint’s bow was without its string in his lap as he treated it. In one hand was one of his many custom arrowheads; in the other, a knife. “Unless you think you’ll lose.”
To that, Loki actually laughed aloud. A true sound; one that caught the man off guard and made his eyes rise to meet emerald for a moment.
“Well, come over here and prove yours is bigger.”
His sigh was an exasperated sound that caught in his throat and rattled off of his tongue as he stalked from his seat to where Clint was sitting across the room, weapons in hand. He held his knife tightly, turned it in his hand once and then twice to let the light gleam off of its chrome blade, and then he held it still just as Loki bore his own.
His own knife, that is. And they held them side-by-side to compare.
Sure enough, Loki’s was longer but what it had in length it lacked in width. It was a sleek and lethal dagger, one easily concealed in sleeves and against the slope of his arm, whereas Clint’s was easily kept in his boot.
Smug with not only proving himself right but by being right as well, Loki retracted his dagger and returned to his merlot. Clint muttered. “Compensating for something?”
Loki didn’t take the bait though. “Eating sour grapes?”
That shut them both up though one was significantly more content with himself than the other. As it was usually was in their case.
