“Oh, please. Weird things happen to you without anons having anything to do with it.” Musingly, “It’s not like Loki showing up had anything to do with greyfaces, or the number of alternate yous there are.”“Those all seem less weird, in the face of my current condition,” he remarks, as he reaches out to wiggle the glowing fingers of one hand at her.
She puts her own hand up to touch his finger, inspecting her own fingertip afterward as if she expected his condition to be catching, or dangerous. “Seems harmless enough. Though you’ll be sleeping alone til this one wears off.”
He offers her a dramatic, comical pout and folds his arms over his chest as he slouches into an exaggerated sulk. “How’m I s’posed to sleep, then?” he wheedles, just shy of whining.
“You, sleep?” she teases. “I didn’t know you did. Maybe you can coax Loki to share the bed with the glow. I can’t sleep with that much light. Some nights,” she pokes at the arc reactor, faint under his shirt, “even this is too much.”