I found myself avoiding his likeness all day, hoping that whole escapade would simply disappear in and of'tself entirely on'ts own. Though, there would not be such luck.

I am filled with dishonor and shame after that terrible... moment, as I would call't. I cannot stand another moment of this lunacy. Surely approaching him could make matters worse, but doing nothing would be far inferior. I must determine his locus at once.

I cannot simply approach him to discuss this matter, nor might I await for him to act on his own thoughts on this because he simply is not bright enough to doth so.

I should wait, then. He should come to his senses eventually, I suppose.

The clock in my room read one hour past midday when the doors bursted open at the front of my quarters and nearly flew off of their very hinges. At a wave of my fingers, I swiftly closed them behind Thor as he stood seemingly angrily before my seated self.

"Dost thou hath naught to say for thine own self?" he huffed.

"On what matter?" I jumped around the matter. 

"By the name of Odin and each of mine own forefathers, thou know of exactly that which I speak," he burst out. "And, dost thou wish to make a fool of me? To make me irate?"

"No, Thor," I stood and tried to calm him from this flaming mess. "I wish nothing of the sort, nor doth I stand to make a fool of the likes of thou."

"What, thence, dost thou plan to doth with this mess? Please, elucidate," he demanded.

"There is naught I plan, brother. Let us w-"

"No!" he yelled. "I hath grown weary of waiting all this time, Loki. Thou owe me at least wherefore thou hath done such a thing."

"If my memory dost not fail me, which't seldom dost, thou hath produced the buss of which thou speak," I reminded him.

"Yes, but now thou choose to run," he pointed out. "Wherefore?"

I waited. "Running from things is not something I doth oft', but now, as I hath done't for the first time in ages, I hath neither an impetus nor a rationalization."

"Thou doth!" he exclaimed, approaching me. He took my wrists in his hands and pulled me close enough to his face that I could smell him.

"I peer into thine own eyes and I see nothing but hatred in this moment," I mentioned. "Is that truly what thou wish of this?"

"No," he admitted. "I solely seek an answer fr-"

"To what end?" I interrupted him.

"Whatever't takes."

His eyes burned white like the core of a flame and seared my face as he looked down upon't. I knew not that which I could say, but t'was of no use if he planned to kill me before allowing me to leave without providing an answer.

I felt fear creep into mine own eyes and, even for an instant, I knew he hath seen't. T'was not something I wished to e'er experience again, as T'was purely terrifying, though... I could not help but miss't once't hath gone, that terror. T'was invigorating and almost arousing.

"I wished only to escape the feeling, ne'er thou," I finally spit out, gaping between his thunderstruck eyes.

"But, is the feeling not, in and of'tself, a representation of me? Just as't is, in fact, what thou feel for me?" he wondered.

"T'is not- not in sooth. The emotional and the physical art very different feelings, even if they both remain associated to the same occurrence. Just as I feel thou clutching mine wrists as well as this electricity flowing through thine own veins, jolting my skin and my emotional reaction towards this as a mixture of lust as well as terror art very different."

"Yes, but is the brain, where said emotions art held, not a part of the physical body?"

I remained silent. What was there even for me to reply? "I suppose thou art right in that t'is, yes."

"Then thou cannot escape one without evading the other," he began to calm himself. "Even an explicit duality is an implicit unity."

"Like thou and I-"

"Precisely," he interrupted me. "We originate from different fathers, but we remain one family hither on Asgard."

"Just as we art brothers, but we-"

"Continue on with that, thou shall not. While t'is true, that to which thou were alluding... putting't out into the multiverse shall only cause a ruckus. We must not e'er speak of this," he warned me.

"Thou art right- but hath thou finished ululating? This hold thou hath on me feels like electrocution," I pointed out.

"Ah, yes," he released me. "My apologies."

I nodded, grasping at mine wrists in attempts to alleviate their scorched corium. "And what of... us, now?"

"T'shall remain a secret," he ordered. "Not a soul shall know, dead or alive, of the things we hath done nor the things we hath yet to do. Only then shall we stay unharmed."

"Yet to do?" I wondered.

He smirked. "Until tomorrow, brother."

With that, he walked out, leaving me wondrously intrigued.