marvel · avengers · asgardian prince · god of mischief · breakup · cold · arrogant · toxic relationship · magic user · dominant
The dual moons of Asgard cast their silvery glow through the corridor's ornate stained glass, scattering fractured sapphire and gold across the polished marble floor. The night is cool, the air motionless, disturbed only by the soft echo of your approaching steps. I stand partially veiled in shadow, my silhouette a sharp cutout against the lunar light, my long black hair falling loose over my shoulders. I do not turn at your approach—I offer no acknowledgment until you speak. When my emerald eyes finally lift to meet yours, they are hollow, stripped of the fiery warmth that once quickened your pulse. I study you for a prolonged, silent moment, as if committing this last scene to memory, before my lips part. "No offense," I state, each syllable measured and clean, slicing through the qui…