( quartz! )

...

THE NEW ASGARD PROJECT STARTED ONCE THE LAST EMBERS OF THANOS'S WRATH DIED OUT. It was to be a home for the displaced Asgardians, a new hope for them as they started their lives anew on Earth.

However, in reality, it was a rather inconspicuous apartment building that needed many renovations before it would resemble that of Asgard in the slightest.

Thor had taken to overseeing the strenuous tasks of remodeling the building; knocking down walls, re-tiling, replacing windows and the like. Valkyrie, or Bruunhilde as she liked you to call her, assisted him along with the ever optimistic Korg and a few Asgardians.

With the heavy work out of the way, there was still a lot more to do, which lead to you, Bruce, and the charming trickster Loki to ensure that the drab building flourished with color and style.

Tasked with a small team of Asgardians to assist you, you were given the lovely job of painting; something that you found fun and relaxing. Choosing from a wide variety of colors, and turning the dull, dirty walls into a canvas to breathe new life into was always a delightful task for you.

That was before you were struck with a flu seemingly tailored just to make you miserable. The chore of carrying paint cans wrought havoc on your already aching muscles, leaving you panting, out of breath with your chest alight, unprepared for the fit of coughs that would scrape at your sore throat.

"I thought I heard someone gasping their last, dying breaths," a silky voice tinged with amusement echoed through the empty room that you were struggling to paint.

You set down the can of gold paint you were battling with a thud on the paper lined floors and wiped at the beads of sweat on your forehead, your muscles relieved to have the strain gone.

Turning, you found Loki leaning in the doorway, watching you with a small smirk. The well fitted black shirt he was clad in had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he neglected to ensure the buttons from his chest upwards were done all the way up in an effort to cool himself down.

You were both envious and in awe of how he managed to look so good in the blistering heat, whereas your hair was a mess, with paint staining your clothes, and your face flushed and dripping with sweat.

Too weak to muster a smile like you normally would to him, you merely nodded in agreement. "I feel like I'm dying."

The smirk dropped off Loki's face at your words. He pushed himself off the wall and uncrossed his arms. "Oh dear, you do look it." He closed the small gap between you and him in quick, long strides, and laid a cool hand against your cheek, then your forehead. "You're burning up."

Slightly taken aback by the proximity of him, a small blush crept up your neck and rested on your cheeks. "It's nothing. Now are you going to help me paint, or what?"

The sides of his mouth tugged down in disapproval as he looked down at you. "Do you really think I would allow you to work in this state?"

The question danced in your head for a while, trying to find the answer. You were taken aback at his new behavior. Sure, he was always friendly enough with just a dash of charming and sass to you, but he was like that with everyone - well, mostly everyone. So, why would he care if you were ill? "Yes?"

Loki's frown grew deeper, as if being etched into his skin. "Follow me." He turned and made his way to the door, but stopped when you made no move. "Surely you're still capable of walking, so hurry up."

Though you would have much rather preferred to curl up on the floor and not move until the putrid flu left your body, you willed your hurt legs to follow him, trudging behind with a few whispered complaints under your breath.

Loki led you to the next floor, carefully ensuring you navigated the debris and work tools by placing a guiding hand on the small of your back, and stopped outside a black door. Opening it, he beckoned for you to enter.

It was a spacious bedroom, with plush carpets, satin curtains, and perhaps the most comfy bed you had ever seen in your life. You wanted nothing more than to just jump onto it and lay your head against the inviting pillows.

As if reading your mind, Loki raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you going to lie down or do I have to carry you to the bed?"

"Oh, um." The words left your mouth as you stared up at him in shock and confusion as a few shameless thoughts flittered in your mind.

He chuckled slightly, his green eyes glinting in the soft rays of sunlight that filtered into the room. "I'm flattered but it's really not what you're thinking." When you didn't reply, he sighed. "You clearly need rest."

You bit your lower lip, debating on what to do. On one hand, you didn't want to slack off on helping the Asgardians. They had been through a lot, and the faster the renovations were done, the quicker they could settle in. On the other hand, you were exhausted. You could barely breathe through your nose, and your head ached terribly.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled. "If I'm being frank, you don't have much of a choice. You need rest, and if that means I have to lock you in here for your own good, and finish up the painting on my own I will."

You held up your hands in defeat, a strained laugh escaping your throat. "Okay, okay. I wasn't going to put up a fight, anyway. Pretty sure if I take a few more steps I might pass out."

His face contorted in a mix of relief and worry at your words.

Kicking off your shoes, you hopped onto the bed and nestled into the pillows, a dreamy sigh escaping your lips. The bed dipped softly under your weight like it was absorbing your body into it, and you inhaled deeply, the gentle yet fresh mint aroma that usually followed Loki washing over you. "G'night."

"Sleep well," Loki said as he left the room, gently closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You hummed in response, your eyes droopy. It didn't take long for you to drift off into a peaceful slumber, your labored breathing evened out into relaxed breaths and a soft snore sounded through the room.

When you awoke, the sun which had once been high and painfully bright in the azure sky had dipped to allow streaks of pinks and purples to grace the sky, indicating you had slept through most of the day.

You were in the process of wiping at the drool that ran from your mouth and onto the pillow away when you heard a snicker coming from the corner of the room, causing you to jump in fright.

Loki was sat in a chair, watching you contently. "Slept well, I take it?"

You puffed your cheeks out and huffed loudly. "You would know, since you watched me creepily like that dude from Twilight."

"On the contrary, I just returned now. Didn't really have the heart to wake you - you looked so peaceful," he murmured. Then, he stood and lifted up a plastic bag that had been resting on the floor beside him. "I went out and purchased you some things that will help you fight this flu."

"You really didn't have to, thank you though," you said, genuinely touched at his concern for you, albeit it being new to you.

"But first, you should eat," he said and pointed to the nightstand where a steaming bowl of soup was resting. "My mother used to make something akin to that for when Thor and I would fall ill. Most of the ingredients aren't here on Midgard, but I found some perfect substitutes; it should help you."

You struggled to push yourself up into a sitting position, prompting Loki to quickly come to your side and help you up, carefully propping and arranging the pillows for you to rest on comfortably as he did.

He handed you the bowl. "Careful, it's still quite hot."

You graciously accepted the bowl from him. The aroma of the soup was a divine, sharp, savory smell that immediately had your mouth watering and your nasal passages opening up.

"I didn't know you were such a good cook!" you gushed at him, mouth open slightly after you savored the first spoonful of the soup. It was spicy, but not overly, just enough to warm your chest and ease the phlegm in your throat. Contrasting the main flavor of the soup, was a sweetness to it that you weren't sure how was possible, yet it worked amazingly well somehow. "Loki, this is... beautiful. Made by the Gods themselves."

He rolled his eyes, a small tug at his lips. "I am a God, you know, but I shall take your compliment nonetheless."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, him occasionally breaking it to tell you to slow down as you gorged down the soup. The flu had left you without an appetite, so you didn't realize how hungry you were until you started to eat the seemingly magical meal.

Once you were sated and the bowl was cleared away, Loki started to empty the plastic bag. Small boxes of medication, a packet of tissues, some snacks, and a book cluttered the nightstand.

"Here, this is for the cough," he said and held up a spoon with a dark liquid on it to your mouth. You obliged, and grimaced at the bitter taste. "Come now, it's not that bad."

"It really is."

Loki shook his head gently. He picked up a glass of water and handed it to you, his other hand producing two tablets. "For your pain, fever and whatnot. Drink up."

You did as he instructed, and he looked pleased at your cooperation.

"What's the book for?" you asked him and nodded to it. It was a thick, leather bound book, with fine silver writing on the cover.

Loki picked it up and handed it to you, his face unreadable. "I thought you might like it. Something to keep you occupied while you rested."

You studied the book carefully, a tentative hand opening it and running down the first page. "A collection of short stories and poetry. Thank you, you're really spoiling me." Your eyebrows creased. "But, I should be heading home, it's getting late."

Loki shook his head, a few strands of his obsidian locks falling onto his face. "I've asked Thor to notify your family that you're quite alright. You really can't think of walking back to your home in this state." When you didn't reply, he stood up and produced a set of folded clothes from the edge of the bed. "I've got you some more comfortable sleepwear. You can freshen up in the adjoining bathroom."

"I really can't impose on you like this," you said to him, startled at how much effort he was making for you.

"I'll bunk in one of the many vacant rooms here. Treat my room as if it were your own. It's really not an issue for me," he said, voice firm as if the situation was final. "I'll be back later to check on you. There's a lozenges on the nightstand in case your throat is still troubling, and don't hesitate to shout if you need me."

Loki didn't wait for you to respond, leaving you dumbfounded and gawking at the closed door once he left.

He stayed true to his word, returning a bit later when the sun had fully set and a few specks of dim stars twinkled in the dark sky. You were on the edge of sleep, drowsily reading the book he had given you, too enthralled to put it down. Loki was pleased you liked it, but not at the fact you were fighting sleep at the cost of it.

Once he set the book aside, he handed you a tray filled with a meal, and a tea that smelled like ginger and honey, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. Much like the soup, you were almost certain the tea contained magical properties; it immediately soothing your muscles and clearing your mind of any tension after just one sip.

Once you were fed, Loki had picked up the book again and you expected him to take it with him on his way out. But to your surprise, he settled back into the chair and skimmed through the pages, stopping with a satisfied smile on the chapter he was looking for. "Since you love this book so much, why don't I read my favorite short story to you while you drift off to sleep?"

Loki's words were like a soft melody in your ears, his voice calming and even as you gently fell back into a heavy slumber. No dreams, just a full night of blissful and well rested sleep ensued.

It was a crisp and bright morning when you awoke hours later, stirring out of your sleep because of the voices that trickled into the room. First you noticed with wonder and gratitude, was that a majority of the flu symptoms had left your body. Secondly, to your curiosity, the voices that roused you were Loki's and Bruunhilde's.

"Keep your voice down, she's still asleep," came Loki's muffled voice from behind the door. "If you really want to check in on her, come back later when she's awake."

"Fine, fine."

"You're still here."

"Answer me this and then I'll leave," Brunnhilde said, her tone smug, "Since when do you care so much for someone you deem just a friend?"

There was a pause before he replied in a hasty whisper. "What do you mean? This is how I always care for my friends."

"Or just this friend," she said, holding back a laugh. "The one that gives you butterflies, the one that I catch you daydreaming about so often, the one you wish to hold -."

"Okay enough! I get it," he said hurriedly, clearly exasperated at her teasing. "She's beautiful, smart, funny...and so much more. I've never met someone who brought so much joy and love into my life. I didn't know one person could mean so much to me."

"So tell her."

"It's not that simple. I don't deserve her."

A whack sounded loudly and Loki gasped loudly in offense. "It's not your job to decide what she deserves - that's up to her. And I can tell you for a fact she's just as in love with you as you are with her. So tell her how you feel, or you'll regret it."

Silence.

"I suppose you're right."

"I always am."

The door handle shifted, and you panicked. You never imagined Loki would ever feel the same way you did for him, it was always a lingering dream in the back of your mind that you thought would always stay that way. Then he confessed. You weren't supposed to hear it, but you did.

The door swung open and Loki stilled in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes widened, and he gulped nervously. "You're awake."

Bruunhilde popped her head into the room, a large grin on her face. "Good morning!" Then she ducked her head out, and you could hear her footsteps running down the hallway.

"How much of my conversation with her did you hear?" Loki asked, and it was the first time he looked so unsure of himself. His eyes wouldn't dare to meet yours, opting to stare at the dark grey walls. "I don't mean to cause you any discomfort, it's completely fine if you pretend you never heard it."

Despite feeling out of your element, you couldn't help the smile that slowly crept on your face. You were happy. "Why would I do that?" His eyes skittered to you and the wall before finally settling on your face. "This is a surprise, yes, but a very welcome one."

"So you mean...?" his words trailed of as he took small steps towards you.

You scooted to the side of the bed and patted the empty space for him to come lie down next to you. "Luckily for you, I get butterflies too, you know," you teased. He crossed his arms in mock embarrassment. "Daydreaming? Lil bit of that. But most of all..."

"Well? You're killing me with the suspense," Loki said, a cheeky grin on his face as he regained his composure.

"I like you too, definitely bordering on love but let's work our way up there," you said to him as you leaned your head to rest on his chest.

Loki gave a soft chuckle, his hand wrapping around your waist to hold you closer to him. "I can work with that." He kissed your forehead and leaned back on the pillows, his eyes closed as he reveled in the moment. "Bruunhilde shall never let us hear the end of this, you know."

"We'll be that couple that's so sweet and handsy that it's borderline gross, just to make her feel uncomfortable," you murmured, savoring the moment with him.

"Devious. I like it."