Loki was loathe to end it, dazzled as he was by the gentle, loving, oddly intense creature his old friend had suddenly become. As strange as it was he was tuned into her and each movement, the way she responded to his touch and moved against his lips. He could track her as he could easily track the movement of planets; she seemed just as inevitable and distant, yet somehow cradled in the palm of his hand, miraculously.

Even though he told himself he would stop, he didn't intend to, but the sudden silence was almost a shock to his ears as the last firework fizzled out, and he pulled back. Just enough to break the kiss, though, and his lips hovered over hers, temptingly. He didn't know what to say, if there was anything to say. Were they supposed to explain themselves? Loki hoped not. Maybe he should quit while he was ahead, make a break for it. Or he could wait and see if Sif would be the one to bolt, and scale the hotel wall to get to her room and escape.