”I beg your fucking pardon?” Bri has managed to regain her composure, she will have none of this. She isn’t the kind to go and have sex with anyone, she wants it to have meaning and she’s angry now that he thinks so lowly of her.
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “My my Brianna, is that the way you talk to your boss? I could have you fired you know. Just like this,” he snaps his fingers.”But no, I’m not that cold-hearted, I know you need the money.”
A droplet of water falls from his hair and slides down his sharp cheekbones, past his square jaw, over the vein popping out of his neck. Bri is mesmerized. She continues to follow it until it disappears under his white v-neck. Damn. ”You don’t scare me Mr. Laufeyson. I know exactly why you’re here and there’s no way in hell that I will—” He holds his finger up to stop her from speaking. Damn, she was on a roll too. Loki reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the Tokyo papers that Bri was suppose to have finished. Holy fucking shit.
“Ms. Moretti I’m giving you two more days to finish these. They better be perfect,” he speaks in a hard tone. He reaches out to give her the papers at the same time she extends her hand to grab them. Her fingers lightly brush against his and he immediately jerks his hands back like she’s shocked him. He shoves the papers into her hands and rushes away. What the fuck is happening.
“Yeah, um, he had me stay until four but then I was sent home by his dad—” Bri whispers into the phone, not wanting anyone to overhear. Celine interrupts her, her voice sounding slightly upset.
“What aren’t you telling me? I know you’re hiding something. I know you better than I know myself, I can tell when something is bugging you.” Bri sighs. She needs her friend right now, more than anything. But she’s stuck in her shitty little office at work, avoiding Loki like the plague but at the same time, hoping like hell she’ll catch a glimpse of him. He hasn’t been seen all day which is unusual for he always expects his coffee and today, the Tokyo papers, but he hasn’t shown himself. Where are you hiding?
She’s back from lunch to find an envelope on her desk, her name scrawled in elegant writing. Oh God, fucking Jason. Jason, the 3rd floor geek with a degree in pervertedness who has pestered Bri about going with her to the upcoming charity gala. She tears open the envelope and scans her eyes over the paper. Her blood freezes when she realizes it’s from Loki. And then she feels him. “I see you’ve received my invitation. I’ll pick you up at 6:00 tonight. And Brianna, it’s black tie, you need to wear a dress.” She spins around so fast she has to hold onto her desk. He’s standing in the doorway of his office, directly behind her. His sculpted, marble body hidden under his designer grey suit and red tie, his slicked back black hair, and the faint smile playing around the edges of his lips all make her stomach both turn and leap at the same time. He’s perfect, goddamn asshole.
“W-what, I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite understand,” Bri sputters. Why on Earth would he want to go with her? “The invite says to bring a d-date, not your,” she almost whispers the word, “your assistant.” She’s blushing now and has started to dig her toe into the floor. Why does he make her so nervous?
“I can read Brianna, I’m not illiterate,” he snaps. Fucking rude bastard. ”Like I said, I’ll pick you up at 6:00, regardless of whether or not you’re ready.”
She’s trying to make herself look as small as she can, all the while trying to make her dress just a bit longer. Bri is sitting in the passenger seat of his car, trying to shrink into the leather as much as she can. Why am I here? What is going on? She’s wearing a simple yet beautiful dark blue dress. That pretty much matches the color of his fucking tie. The smell of his car is making her want to pass out and hurl at the same time. Before she realizes what’s happening, his arm is wrapped around her waist and they’re heading inside.
She’s dancing with a fellow named Greg. Or was it Ned? She was too busy staring at her date, watching him smooth talk potential clients as well as donate the amount her entire apartment’s worth to the charity, to actually listen to what he said. Fred twirls her around and goes to dip her when Loki stalks up behind him, the fire blazing in his emerald eyes. “Excuse me Nelson, but I was wondering if I could have my date back?” His emphasis on ‘my’ causes butterflies in her stomach. “I believe yours is in the restroom, empty the contents of her stomach. Too much vodka I presume. Good evening.” Loki wraps his arm tightly around Bri and pulls her away from an embarrassed Nelson.
“What are, what I wasn’t finished with him, what are you doing?” Bri is furious. He doesn’t own her, she can dance with whomever she pleases. He’s taken her to a quiet corner of the room. “That was completely uncalled for, the poor guy, why do you have to be such a dick all the time?” She immediately regrets saying these words. He’s staring down at her with an anguished expression, his eyes pained and soft. Jesus, you’d think I had just run over his cat or something. A strand of hair falls over his forehead and it takes all of her strength to not brush it away. “U-um, sir? Mr. Laufeyson? Are you okay?” He’s still staring deep into her eyes— into her soul and it’s starting to make her uncomfortable. She whispers softly, “Loki?” She can’t resist it any longer. Her hand slowly reaches up to his pale skin and gently pushes the strand back into place. His eyes shut as soon as she touches his face and he leans slightly into her palm. He sighs softly, his breath warm on her face.
“Dance with me Bri,” he says quietly, opening his eyes to look down at her again. She looks out to the dance floor where couples are dancing to Bryan Adam’s Please Forgive Me. She wants to tell him no, she wants to hell him to fuck off, to leave, to stay. She wants him to give her an explanation of what he’s doing, why what happened in his office, happened, why he’s acting like this now. She wants him.
Her hand drops down to entwine with his long fingers. He grasps her hand as if his life depends on it. “Of course.”
ohhh my goddddd how can you say that you’re bad at writing oh my goddddddddd i love all of this so muuuuuch