"What did you expect, exactly?" he has to ask, and Loki's gaze is cool and distant, appraising. Across the table from him, Natasha Romanoff sits, just as calm as he, and Loki has to wonder what the servers must think of them.
They make an impressive sight, he knows, himself and the Lady Romanoff, the both of them well-dressed and attractive (he never claimed to be humble) with smiles so sharp they'd cut glass.
The goblet he'd slid across the table contains more blood than wine, though no mortal eyes would notice the difference. Not with the faint glamour he'd laid upon it. "You were the one to join me at my meal, after all, and you would not without reason."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-12-02 05:18 am (UTC)They make an impressive sight, he knows, himself and the Lady Romanoff, the both of them well-dressed and attractive (he never claimed to be humble) with smiles so sharp they'd cut glass.
The goblet he'd slid across the table contains more blood than wine, though no mortal eyes would notice the difference. Not with the faint glamour he'd laid upon it. "You were the one to join me at my meal, after all, and you would not without reason."