Summer looked at him for a long moment, turning thoughts in her head like flashes of lightning, or sparks from a fire. She didn’t know enough to help him with this. Would her more active skills work on Asgardians? She’d never tried — never had reason to. She didn’t know if she could turn the gaze of someone like Heimdall.
“They’ll expect you to flee the city, flee Asgard, right away,” she said at last. “Not to stay here, so close.”
“A double bluff. Indeed,” he mused slowly, “Perhaps my tricks should wait. I am nothing if not patient,” his eyes rested on hers again. A shaft of silver moonlight played against her soft features, and he wondered how late it must be. He had never felt so awake.
“Will you be…going back to Midgard…any time soon?” he prompted.
“Not tonight, anyway. I left some gear a little ways back.” She flicked a hand behind her, but found it difficult to tear her eyes away from his. Almost a year … no, she’d never forgotten him, but believed he’d forgotten her. And now it seemed he hadn’t, but what did that mean? Other than he saw a use for her, once again.
His eyes narrowed as the smile fell from his face, slowly. There was a guarded distance in the way she regarded him, and made him ache for the wildfires to return. The only prominent thought in his head was getting her to stay, stay, stay…
“I won’t go back to that cell,” he said simply, choking back all the words he hadn’t the courage to say.
The way his face changed at her answer hurt, dully. She turned, meaning to start back to where her gear was. “Did I say you should?” she flashed back, over her shoulder. He wanted … something. She wasn’t sure what it was, only that want rode him, and it ran higher when he looked at her. “Stay.”