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Being gutted would have been more merciful. He'd seen sinking ships with more grace. But still, that didn't change the fact he was, once again, sitting upright in his prison cell, soaked to the bone in cold sweat. The walls were stained sickly jaundice yellow and that tint made him look ghastly. His cheeks appeared hollow and there were swathes of exhausted purple under his seemingly black eyes. Black hair matted against his forehead and the back of his neck, he breathed heavily and looked from one side of the room to the other.

It was quiet, absolutely still within the prison, and in that resounding silence he could still hear that familiar voice - smooth as a steel blade and just as sharp - inside his head.

"I'd let my imagination run wild if I didn't suspect you of seeing every detail."

Loki's response had been, at that time, charmingly venomous. "Every detail, but by all means…"

"I may take that as a challenge to get a reaction."

"A razored edge or a razored tongue. The choice is, as always, yours."

"Take a peek and guess my preference."

Loki was intrigued to no one's surprise. "Or perhaps I could simply take a shot in the dark."

"You're welcome to try. I won't even bother deflecting."

And Loki's reaction came after a beat of deliberation - one only long enough to give at least the facade of hesitance - before he had a blade to the other man's chin. "Did I guess correctly?"

The other only smiled and kept his arms crossed, true to his word, but Loki knew better than to presume there wasn't an itching desire somewhere beneath that unflinching front. "…you picked the blunter of the two."

The blade chimed softly as it moved from the end of the mutant's chin to lay against his cheek. "Drawing blood seemed less forward."

The trickster shouldn't have been surprised to see the fingertip raise to the width of the blade nor should he have been at all taken aback by the leisurely slowness with which he trailed the end of the finger along the steel edge. "Yet no less intimate for someone that feels the metal, I fear."

Loki's eyes followed that idle motion and he was momentarily taken by it before catching himself and forcing his eyes upward once more. "And what else do you feel…" He paused before adding, on a whim, "…Erik?"

And Erik's responding smirk was lighthearted as he pressed the pad of his finger to the edge briefly. "Entirely at your mercy."

Loki leaned forward and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes until he saw purple and red. His breathing leveled and the cold sweat had retreated...

...but his heart didn't stop racing that night.

#i'm aching.#don't mind me.#don't look at me.#don't touch me.#loki just...#ugh.#forgivenunforgotten #v; Too Busy Being Yours