Screaming.

That's all he could hear, agonising wails that tore through the air, ricocheting against the rigid stone walls. The voice was all too familiar, the once honey sweet notes reduced to hoarse, desperate pleads as the sound of a body falling to the ground resounded in his ears.

He spun quickly, the thick raven tendrils of his hair lashing violently against his porcelain skin as the harsh wind nipped at his face. He let out an involuntary sob as he collapsed alongside the crumpled figure.

Y/n lay beside him, legs curled to her chest, crimson rivers flowing mercilessly past her trembling hands and onto the frozen concrete.

Loki cradled her face with shaking hands, emerald eyes shining with cruel crystalline rivers as he watched each laboured breath wrack through her aching lungs.

"Y/n. No, please, you can't die on me" all previous cockiness fleeing him as he held his love for the last time. He had always held a facade, one that he was mighty, untouchable, cruel and cunning in his ways. But as he held her, every wall he had ever built crumbled in a magnificent crescendo of anguish and inevitable isolation.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault, I-I lov-" she spoke, sorrow flooding her already dulled eyes. Loki shook his head vigorously, begging whatever cruel gods allowed this to happen to make it stop, her words were sharper than any dagger, piercing his heart with the most unbearable agony.

"No, y/n, please" he begged, his voice wavering as he tightened his grip on her now completely limp body. He could feel as the soul left her body, and as it fled, as did a part of his.

Loki shot awake, heaving breaths flowing through him as he sat up in his bed. Sweat adorned his scarlet flushed skin as he brought a trembling hand to grasp his chest.

"Are you okay, my love?" A recognisable voice spoke, the sugar sweet melody of each note like the most beautiful of symphonies to his ringing ears.

He turned slowly, swallowing the gasp that sat eagerly in his throat. There lay y/n, her h/c hair flowing elegantly across the deep fern of his silk sheets. Her skin shone softly in the golden kiss of the sun, her beauty unparalleled by the ethereal glow that shone through the pure obsidian curtains that hung from the window.

He smiled solemnly to himself, barely acknowledging her words as he lay upon the pillow again. It's cool fabric soothing his still flushed skin.

Loki slowly looked up at her, watching as her eyes shone with affection. But he knew it was wrong, he had watched the life leave them before, and now the thing that should have brought solace only brought pain. People would sacrifice anything to see their loved one again, he felt so selfish, to know he could conjure her up with nothing more than a wave of his hand.

Since she had left, his magic had grown uncontrollable. Each morning he would wake to find his surroundings destroyed, windows shattered, crystal shards littering the marble floor. And each time, she would be sat there, a cruel mirage destined to bring nothing but pain to him.

Her ghostly touch danced upon his skin, never fully making the contact he craved. He furrowed his brows and willed the tears to remain as he watched her, he longed for nothing more than to reach out, feel the petal soft skin beneath his fingertips once again.

Loki raised a hand, airily brushing above her face before crashing his hand through the illusion. He exhaled deeply as her form dissipated, microscopic shards that shattered across the air before disappearing once again.

The sable haired boy curled in on himself, thin limbs tangling with one another in a pitiful attempt to simply cease to exist.

Because life without her was no life at all.

And although he got to see her, she was never truly coming back.

For she would forever be nothing more than an illusion.