The moment Mjolnir was back in Thor's hand, a lot of the weight that had been pressing into his mind was gone. The moment the hammer was out of the room, all that was left was just the pain of having strained himself badly for holding the thing so long. It felt far more manageable in comparison.
Still, he was grateful to have Sif to lean on. And the rational part of his mind that he could now think with also noted that it didn't hurt she was also far prettier than Thor. Not to mention not his brother. And female. And not the one that had sewn his lips together in the first place.
He felt so much better with Mjolnir gone that a smile actually tried to form on his lips in answer to Sif's question, though one agonized, burning pull against the wounds on his face stopped that. He covered her hand with his so he could feel like he was at least involved in the act of drinking. While his fingers still shook, to him at least they felt much steadier.
The cool glass burned against his lips. Loki drank the medicine quickly. The cloying taste of liquorice was overpowering. It mixed unpleasantly with the constant earthy taste of blood, and he had to swallow against his stomach rolling in response. He had himself mastered well enough again that he was able to control the urge and throttle it.
The glass came away from his mouth with the rim well bloodied. For a moment, Loki wondered how bad it looked - he knew how bad it felt but the two were often very different. His gaze flickered toward the mirror near his wardrobe, but the angle was wrong.
Maybe that was for the best.
He let out a shuddering sigh through his nose and rested his head against Sif's shoulder. It was only a matter of time now before the lassitude of that drug would steal through his limbs and numbed him to the world. He was looking forward to it. Of course, the process never felt quick when he was half-blind from a headache, and it would no doubt feel equally slow now.
no subject
Still, he was grateful to have Sif to lean on. And the rational part of his mind that he could now think with also noted that it didn't hurt she was also far prettier than Thor. Not to mention not his brother. And female. And not the one that had sewn his lips together in the first place.
He felt so much better with Mjolnir gone that a smile actually tried to form on his lips in answer to Sif's question, though one agonized, burning pull against the wounds on his face stopped that. He covered her hand with his so he could feel like he was at least involved in the act of drinking. While his fingers still shook, to him at least they felt much steadier.
The cool glass burned against his lips. Loki drank the medicine quickly. The cloying taste of liquorice was overpowering. It mixed unpleasantly with the constant earthy taste of blood, and he had to swallow against his stomach rolling in response. He had himself mastered well enough again that he was able to control the urge and throttle it.
The glass came away from his mouth with the rim well bloodied. For a moment, Loki wondered how bad it looked - he knew how bad it felt but the two were often very different. His gaze flickered toward the mirror near his wardrobe, but the angle was wrong.
Maybe that was for the best.
He let out a shuddering sigh through his nose and rested his head against Sif's shoulder. It was only a matter of time now before the lassitude of that drug would steal through his limbs and numbed him to the world. He was looking forward to it. Of course, the process never felt quick when he was half-blind from a headache, and it would no doubt feel equally slow now.