Loki could not help a slight pang of disappointment when he woke up alone in his bed. Then again, when he was honest with himself, it had never been any other way. He had used and been used, but when the light of day exposed him, he only had himself.
Rising to look out the window, he stole a glance around the dividing wall to where Summer lay, sunk in among the pillows, mostly covered by her hair. He leaned his head gently against the wall and listened to her breathing in and out, very quietly, gently. That eased his conscience a bit, after what he had put her through, and he was selfish enough to want to ease it.
A strangled wail emerged from the heap of pillows, and Summer flung one hand out across the width of the bed. “Don’t … ” she cried, muffled, then squirmed deeper under the covers, breathing turned harsh.
Loki twitched around the corner, watching. He felt his hands clench and unclench, legs drift forward a few hesitant steps. It is not my concern. I don’t care. I shouldn’t care…
Then he found himself sitting beside her, taking each of her hands in his and gently wrapping his fingers around hers. ”Summer. Summer, wake up. You are dreaming,” he spoke quickly. He was entirely unsure how to comfort someone.
Hands grasping her hands startled Summer out of the dream with a little shriek. “Oh god, oh god,” she panted, eyes wide and blurred with panic. She clutched at Loki’s hands, staring around, breathing slowing down gradually. “I hate that dream … “
“One you have often?” he asked softly, letting go of her hands and moving back slightly, nervously.
Pushing herself out of the pillows, she pressed a hand to her heart. “More often than I care to think about, honestly.” She smeared a hand over her eyes, wiping away tears. “It’s been a while, though.” Giving a small sigh, Summer sat up entirely, folding her legs under the covers, and regarded Loki. “Well, I’m all better now.”