“You have changed.” Summer let her voice turn cutting, mocking. “Time was, you’d not run away from a mere mortal, a human. From mere words. You want me to fear you, yet you’re the one fleeing!”
Loki’s laugh was the only thing she heard, even as the door banged shut behind him.
Several days later, Summer hesitated, then tapped firmly on Loki’s door. She’d wrangled with herself for most of those days, in between dreaming in code and setting things, virtual and actual, on fire, and finally concluded that regardless of anything else, she owed him an apology.
The fact that said apology consisted mostly of supplies for Macrowafter was utterly irrelevant.
Heart pounding, trying to look suitably contrite, she waited.
There was a thud from behind the door, and the mixed vocal protestations of Cat and Loki alike.
“—wouldn’t stand right behind me like that, I wouldn’t step on your tail!” Loki was saying as he opened the door, glowering down at Macrowafter, who was standing a little ways away with his bright eyes fixed on Loki, offended dignity in every line of his little body.Looking up at Summer, he assumed a neutral expression.
“Miss Summer. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I, um, I came to apologise.” Summer ducked her head, canvas bags swinging from one hand. “I … said some really inexcusable things last time, and I’m sorry.” Looking up at Loki, her mouth quirked a bit, and a little hope, a little laughter crept into her eyes. “Do you have an altar I should lay my offerings at?”