Loki didn't bother to offer to help her with her bottle, because then she might just glare at him. He took his seat beside her, casting his gaze upward. While part of the view was blocked by the looming hotel, there was still a large expanse of sky to behold. He thought again of this rather strange place between worlds, and how it even existed, or even why, but he was too drunk to put in the effort to really follow that thread of thought. Not when he would have to give up paying attention to Sif in order to do so.

"It should be soon," he said. "I suppose the fireworks themselves will let us know." There was another thing at midnight that he'd heard of, which was the kiss - also an odd custom, but not completely strange. If he felt like it he might kiss Sif, but just on the cheek, as gentlemanly as he could, and only if he figured she wouldn't punch him right after or storm off in a huff. With any of his other companions Loki would have been happy to be up to some mischief and would kiss more passionately just to surprise and startle, but his old feelings for Sif and their history together meant that would likely anger her more than anything else.