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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Rock music still echoed around the large workshop as Imogen was left alone, standing in the middle of Jim’s penthouse with her phone clutched in her hand. There was a brief second she contemplated throwing it at the wall, but she managed to rein in her temper before doing something too rash. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to figure out what the fuck to do other than worry herself sick until they got back. She vaguely remembered her promise to check on Phil… Although she highly doubted the man was anywhere beyond passed out in his room. But if nothing else could ever be said about Imogen, she always kept her promises. 

The slap of her bare feet against the cold concrete echoed throughout the large open room as she made her way back over to the elevator. With no one awake at that hour, it came quite quickly, although she wouldn’t have complained about more time to gather her thoughts either. She pressed the button for the third floor then leaned back against the wall as she descended. 

Not much later she stepped out into a small foyer with a little table in the center decorated with a crystal vase and fresh flowers. To the left was a door labeled [i]’3A Pennyworth’[/i] and to the right was an identical door marked [i]’3B Coulson.’[/i] She checked the clock on her phone, [i]3:27 a.m.[/i], grimaced, then reluctantly rang the doorbell. 

There was silence for nearly two minutes before Imogen heard some kind of clatter and muffled cursing. A few seconds later, a lock was thrown and the door slowly opened. What little hair Phil had stood on end, pointing in every direction. There were dark circles under his barely open eyes. He wore an old tattered robe that he didn’t bother to tie shut. Thankfully he at least had boxers and a stained white tank top on underneath. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, squitted, and rubbed again. [color=d6d6d6]"[i]Imogen?[/i]"[/color] Phil’s gaze fell to the watch still on his wrist. He moved his arm back and forth like a trumpet until he found the sweet spot where he could read. [color=d6d6d6]"It’s [i]three[/i] in the morning,"[/color] he commented and sighed at the realization. As his gaze drifted from his watch his eyes widened noticing her in an oversized t-shirt… and nothing else. He was grateful it at least covered everything. [color=d6d6d6]"… [i]Where are your pants?[/i]"[/color]

Imogen’s cheeks flushed. She instinctually grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt and tugged on it to try and cover more of her thighs, the faint pop of already distressed seams were as loud as firecrackers in the silent hallway. [color=a8f9ff]"I-I know… I’m sorry. June—"[/color] Phil’s head perked up and she realized she didn’t have the heart to make him panic if it was for nothing. It wasn’t like either of them could do anything. [color=a8f9ff]"—I’m drunk. Sorry… Go back to bed."[/color] While she tried putting on a brave smile, she could hear the worry in his thoughts and how he didn’t believe her. But he didn’t press, thankfully. He was fine, which is what mattered.

Phil crossed his arms over his chest, contemplated asking more questions but eventually sighed and rolled his eyes. [color=d6d6d6]"2 aspirin and lots of water. Black coffee in the morning."[/color] He listed his hangover remedy on his fingers. He started to retreat back inside but stopped and turned back around. [color=d6d6d6]"We have training tomorrow. I’ll… postpone it until noon. Good night."[/color]

She nodded her head, acknowledging his help and his willingness to push back training until later in the day. [color=a8f9ff]"Thank you… Good night, Phil."[/color]

Imogen waited there awkwardly until his door closed and then pulled out her phone. She opened her messages to June, hoping there would be something there… but there wasn’t. She sighed softly and began typing… 

[indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][table=bordered][row][cell][color=a8f9ff]Phil is fine. Pissed I woke him up.[/color]
[right][sub][color=d6d6d6][i]3:07 am[/i][/color][/sub][/right][/cell][/row][/table]
[table=bordered][row][cell][color=a8f9ff]Please don’t do anything stupid.[/color]
[right][sub][color=d6d6d6][i]3:07 am[/i][/color][/sub][/right][/cell][/row][/table]
[table=bordered][row][cell][color=a8f9ff]… Training at noon, btw.[/color]
[right][sub][color=d6d6d6][i]3:08 am[/i][/color][/sub][/right][/cell][/row][/table][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
After sending the last message, Imogen slipped back into the elevator and told it to return to her floor. When the doors opened, the wave of purple came at her like a wave. Over the past couple weeks Imogen humored the idea of remodeling, but the idea left as quickly as it came. She didn’t have the heart to change something her father made specifically for her. As everything felt like it was slipping away, it was one of the last pieces of him she still had. 

She slowly made her way across her penthouse. The closer she got to her bedroom, the louder the heavy breaths and occasional snores got. Imogen lingered in the doorway, watching Magni as he slept peacefully, too tall for her bed and barely covered by her sheet. The sight made a faint smile cross her lips. It wasn’t until that moment that it really sank in that Magni was [i]here[/i]... in [i]her[/i] bed. It was all surreal. Her mind replayed the memories of their bodies tangled in the sheets, the way he felt… The way he made [i]her[/i] feel. Just the thought of it made her flush. Tingles prickled her skin wherever he touched her, wherever his lips tasted her flesh… everywhere. 

At first the thoughts were sweet and full of longing, but then her mind slipped into a place of guilt and insecurity. She told herself she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in old emotions. Imogen had underestimated how deep her feelings for Magni ran until it was already too late. She didn’t want to be another notch on his belt. She knew his reputation from their time at the academy. That’s why nothing happened when it came to her crush. Imogen wanted romance… love, not bragging rights for having slept with the Prince of Asgard. [i]Yet[/i]... It had been less than twenty-four hours and she stood less than six feet away from his naked body in her bed.

Imogen would have heard if his intentions were disingenuous. She would have heard it, clocked it, and shut him down before they went any further… [i]Right?[/i] It wouldn’t have been the first time she made a mistake. But it didn’t [i]feel[/i] like a mistake. Magni was sincere when he said he was no longer the person he used to be. He pledged himself to her and only her as the nerves churned inside him mirroring her own… That meant something. It had to. She wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, into his arms, and fall back asleep. It wasn’t guilt that stirred and rooted in her gut, but fear. Fear of falling into old habits. Fear of falling into the familiar rut of being a convenient distraction… a second thought… no one’s a first choice. 

The thought shifted back to her lingering resentment that Jim didn’t call her first about their father. She wasn’t important enough to [i]him[/i] to be called first, or maybe she wasn’t useful enough. Knowing him, it was probably both. Imogen couldn’t fight the similarities between that call and June’s. She wasn’t her first choice either. But even when she got the call, what did she do?... [i]Run to get Jim.[/i]

Between the worry over June and the dark spiral her mind took after drinking too much, there was no way Imogen was going to be able to fall back asleep. She slowly walked around to the foot of the bed and sat down on the cold tile. She leaned back against the mattress, bringing her knees to her chest, and wrapping her arms around her legs. The soft glow of the ambient lights in her room made it hard to see out the full length window in front of her. But she could hear Jim’s suit if he returned. It wouldn’t surprise her if he never called. After all… he didn’t promise. Hell, he barely even hugged her back before leaving. 

Imogen had lost track of how much time had passed when her phone vibrated loudly on the hard floor. She quickly snatched it up, hoping she didn’t wake Magni and illuminated the screen.  

[indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][table=bordered][row][cell][color=ed1c24]Jim wishes to inform you she is delirious but alive.[/color]
[right][sub][color=d6d6d6][i]5:32 am[/i][/color][/sub][/right][/cell][/row][/table][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
She shook her head. [i]Of course he couldn’t even be bothered to text me himself.[/i] An annoyed, frustrated… and defeated laugh built in her chest, but she pushed it back down. Sometimes it really surprised Imogen how she trusted Jim so completely, loved him unconditionally, but never felt like she got a fraction of consideration back. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to focus on the positives. That June was alive and ok. That’s what was important.

The bed shook slightly as the god stirred. His groan was soft, but resonant. His legs swung clumsily as he entered a sitting position, lazily shuffling his way to his feet and wandering in the direction of the bathroom. A loud thud and another groan signalled he had found it, sort of. He relieved himself of an evening of drinking and revelry and washed his hands, finally waking up to his surroundings. As he shuffled back towards the bed, he paused. Magni’s heart sank as he realized Imogen was not in the bed. The thought crossed his mind that he had, in fact, spoiled things by indulging in his desires. He needed some air.

His heart jumped into his throat when he noticed, upon his movement around the side of the bed towards the windows, the huddled form of his lover. Magni’s eyes widened in surprise, but narrowed as he scanned her face. Imogen was not ok. And that’s all he needed to know to approach slowly. [color=00aeef]"Imogen… what troubles thee?"[/color] The question was soft, sincere, and worried. A hint of guilt traced his inquiry, fearing that he was the cause of her distress.

Imogen had been so lost in her own thoughts that when the bed shifted behind her she just assumed it was Magni rolling over for the third time that hour. The sounds of him shuffling around her apartment fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until his words broke through her mind’s fog that she noticed he was awake. [i]How long had she been sitting there?[/i] She looked up from her phone and noticed the faint orange glow behind the silhouetted trees on the horizon heralding the rising sun. She blinked once… twice, then followed the sound of his deep voice to where he stood beside her, towering over where she sat on the ground.

Hearing the concern, and [i]guilt[/i] in his voice made Imogen’s heart sink. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch him in silent reassurance. Her fingertips brushed the side of his calf as a sigh slipped from her lips. [color=a8f9ff]"I’m sorry,"[/color] she apologized quietly, looking up into the dark shadows casted by his prominent brow. [color=a8f9ff]"It’s not you."[/color] She slowly pulled her hand away before looking back out the window. 

[color=a8f9ff]"I got a call from June. She was attacked and got shot. I sent Jim after her."[/color] Imogen tucked her bottom lip between her teeth in thought as she waved her phone slightly in her hand. [color=a8f9ff]"I just got a text a couple minutes ago… They’re both fine,"[/color] she confirmed. Her voice was quiet and monotone as she listed the abridged version of what happened. She took a deep breath then pushed off the bed and moved to her feet. It wasn’t until she was standing that she realized how cold she had gotten. Magni’s shirt didn’t seem to provide much warmth. The chill of the tiles must have seeped through the bare skin of her legs as she waited for word from Jim or June. [color=a8f9ff]"I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry,"[/color] she apologized again while rubbing her arms. Imogen tried to flash him a confident smile, but the usual light that filled her eyes wasn’t there. The haunting thoughts of her downward spiral still plagued her mind. [color=a8f9ff]"We can go back to bed."[/color]

Magni lifted his hands,  placing one on each of Imogen's cheeks as he stared into her eyes for a moment. They were still a little hazy from sleep, but he did not need to see much to tell she was not OK. He slid his hands from her cheeks and wrapped his arm around Imogen, pulling her in close. He lowered his lips to the crown of her head, planting a small kiss as he squeezed her tight. [color=00aeef]"I can stay up with thee… and provide what comforts I can. Or hold thee until thou finds slumber."[/color] His offers were genuine, reassuring, and a bit demanding. He needed to provide aid, even if he did not know how.

When he took her face in his hands, Imogen’s chest constricted and a small lump grew in her throat. Magni was tender and warm in a way she wasn’t expecting. Cold touches, vast distances, and emotional walls were all that she knew. She always gave more in everything… time, support, strength… love. Comfort was something she gave in abundance but rarely received in exchange. She always tried to exude bravery and strength but in the quiet darkness of the night it melted away. Something in her had assumed that a literal God—a towering, powerful, monolith of a man—like Magni would have been distant, removed, and stoic. But he had only proven himself to be far more compassionate and attentive than she would have guessed. The way he looked at her made her feel [i]seen[/i] in a way that caught her off guard and left her off kilter.

Imogen let herself fold into the recesses of his embrace, tucking in her arms as she melted against his chest. When his lips pressed against the top of her head, her throat tightened and eyes began to well. Her forehead rested against his collarbone, hiding her face to blink back the tears before they spilled over. Once she felt like she had a better control over her emotions, Imogen cleared her throat and nodded her head. [color=a8f9ff]"Ok,"[/color] she replied quietly without looking up into his eyes.

Magni nodded softly, placing a hand on the back of her head to keep it steady. His other arm held her tight against her chest. Without even an exhale, he lifted her from the ground and made a couple short steps to the side of the bed. He lowered her down slowly, taking care not to harm her as he squatted down, ensuring she could sit at the edge. When he was sure she was stable, he leaned away from her. One knee rested on the ground, and his rough hands shifted to cup Imogen's cheeks again. His thumbs softly glided across her pale skin, attempting to wipe away any tears that had escaped her lids. [color=00aeef]"There is no dishonor in letting thy feelings known."[/color] He would not pry further, but part of him wished he could peer into her thoughts the way she saw his. He could only offer a warm smile.

She let him move her without any resistance or argument. Imogen’s gaze finally met his after he set her on the bed and knelt before her. Magni was right. It wasn’t fair that she knew everything that crossed his mind, yet her own thoughts were locked away and out of reach. [color=a8f9ff]"My thoughts like to run away when I’m left to drown in them,"[/color] she confessed. Her fingers anxiously toyed with the hem of the oversized t-shirt. She cleared her throat, trying to find the words. She wasn’t good at this… at sharing her feelings. No one ever asked. 

Imogen sighed, forcing herself to speak when everything in her told her to stop talking. [color=a8f9ff]"I feel…"[/color] The words got stuck in her throat like a dry pill she couldn’t swallow. [color=a8f9ff]"... Like I’m useless and inconvenient."[/color] Saying it out loud gave the feelings more weight as they sank in. Thinking it was one thing, but admitting it? She hated how the vulnerability tasted in her mouth. The color drained from her face at the realization.

She swallowed and tried to push on before he started panicking and apologizing. [color=a8f9ff]"Jim didn’t tell me about my dad. I found out from the [i]news.[/i] He only called me [i]after[/i] he called the people who could actually help him. My only use was talking during the meeting and even [i]that[/i] he didn’t trust me to do without interjections. He hardly acknowledged me when I came to him about June…"[/color] Imogen took a breath. Her hands were shaking. [color=a8f9ff]"June didn’t even mean to call me. She thought she called Alfred."[/color]

She took a couple deep, shaky breaths trying to keep herself calm… But mostly failing. [color=a8f9ff]"I don’t want you to see me like that,"[/color] Imogen confessed, unable to meet his gaze. [color=a8f9ff]"I know finding your dad is most important. And I’ll help anyway I can."[/color] Ok, now she was rambling a little… And there was some panic in her voice but he wanted to know her thoughts. [i]She was trying.[/i] [color=a8f9ff]"And I know you don’t have time for distractions…"[/color] Her mouth hung open but she struggled to find the words to follow. [color=a8f9ff]"I don’t know."[/color] She sighed.

Magni nodded softly, his hands falling to hold Imogen’s hands in his own as he listened. He let her words sink in a little, carefully mulling over his thoughts. His first thought was clear, and easily voiced. [color=00aeef]"Thou can share thy thoughts, lest ye drown in them alone."[/color] It was a simple offer, a genuine one, and a selfish one. He wanted to know what she thought: of herself, of him, of life, of anything and everything. The rest of his thoughts required ordering, and structure. He remained knelt before her, staring up into her face. He didn’t let his eyes wander, so she could not accuse him of not acknowledging her.

Magni took in a breath. When he spoke, it was softer than anything else he had said before. He was used to speaking with his full chest, his diaphragm projecting his words so that any and all could hear them. He spoke from his throat, his voice a bit lighter and breathy. [color=00aeef]"Thou art not a burden, Imogen. I cannot speak for thy brother’s actions… but I have seen a great many reactions to danger and loss. It has made proud, noble men act like children. It can be a catalyst to turn boys to men. It can destroy, it can create, or it can fester like a wound."[/color] He squeezed Imogen’s hands in an effort to be reassuring. [color=00aeef]"Thou can stir spirits with words. Thy brother cannot. Thou can but peer into the thoughts and hearts of men to judge their souls. Thou art not a burden, or a tool. Thou art a leader… a strong leader. Thy shoulders were weary in the water because thou dost carry a greater responsibility than most. Woe to the fools who are blind to thee."[/color]

He paused, in part to regain his breath. He lifted her right hand up to his chin, turning her palm upwards. He broke his gaze on her to dip his head in reverence, his lips pressing against her skin with a soft tenderness. His soul, and his mind, quieted as he kissed her hand. When he broke away, his eyes returned to meet hers. [color=00aeef]"I deem thee no distraction, but a guidestone. Thou hast reminded my addled mind of the purpose of my rage and troubles."[/color] He lifted Imogen’s hand up to cup his cheek, and lifted his own left hand to cradle her face. [color=00aeef]"I wage war for a future pure and fair. One in which I can see new horizons with thee."[/color]

Imogen paid the same respects he paid her, remaining quiet and attentive as she held his gaze. It wasn’t always easy, there were times she wanted to look away or focus on how small her hands felt in his. While her emotions were a cyclone, his words calmed the treacherous storms that bombarded her mind and soul. The cloud of deep seeded insecurities and self doubt was lulled away by the radiant power of his words and warmth of his comfort. The darkness might not have been washed away, that takes more than a single night of affectionate, reassuring words. But [i]damn[/i] if that wasn’t a start. 

No one, especially not a man, has ever spoken to her like that before. It seemed at every turn Magni continued to surprise her. He was an imposing man that only a moron would attempt to anger. He had a presence that demanded attention and respect. There was no way someone couldn’t stand beside him and not feel inferior. Yet beneath his boisterous exterior he had a magnetic warmth that was tender and vulnerable. In that moment he made her feel safe and secure. Not because he was strong enough to destroy the tower or rip the world asunder but because even with all that power he spoke to her like a Goddess but was gentle with her like she was made of glass. 

[color=a8f9ff]"How do I [i]possibly[/i] follow that?"[/color] she asked as her other hand raised to gently brush his golden locks behind his ear. A gentle laugh tugged at her chest bringing the faintest of light back to her eyes. Her fingertips lingered entangled in his hair as she held his gaze. [color=a8f9ff]"I stand behind what I said earlier… You are [i]far[/i] more than just a warrior."[/color] Her fingers circled his ear, hooking beneath his earlobe to cup his other cheek. [color=a8f9ff]"There is more kindness and compassion in your little finger than most people I’ve had the dishonor of meeting."[/color] Imogen leaned her head into his palm gently. [color=a8f9ff]"You ease my chaotic and crowded mind."[/color] The corners of her lips tugged into a wary smile as her cheeks reddened beneath his touch. [color=a8f9ff]"I like this Magni."[/color] The confession made her heart skip a beat. It was hard for her to admit, but he left his mind willingly open to her, so she sought to be as equally transparent with him.

His response was simple. He kissed her. It was much softer, and far more tender than his prior ones. He let his lips linger on hers, breathing in her as he held her. He didn’t need to respond with words. [color=00aeef]I care for you.[/color] It was a simple thought, but one that remained even as he broke the kiss. His hands slipped to the hem of the shirt she wore, gently tugging it up over her head. His intentions were pure, wishing to ensure she could feel his chest against her back. They were not entirely pure, as his infatuation with her figure was visibly clear as he had removed her only article of clothing. He paused, taking her in, before nodding towards the bed. [color=00aeef]"Shall we rest once more?"[/color]

Imogen’s heart raced when his lips met hers in a new way that was gentle and affectionate. Her eyes slowly opened to meet his gaze when his mind spoke silent words. That time it wasn’t a long speech about her worth or how he’d fight for her. Just four simple words that ignited something inside her. As he reached for her shirt, her hands reluctantly released their hold on him to raise into the air. The moment they were free of the fabric, her arms wrapped back around his shoulders, hungrily pulling him closer. He couldn’t say things like that and expect her not to become restless. She shook her head in protest, face so close to his that the tip of her nose brushed his and the warmth of her breath caressed his face. [color=a8f9ff]"I don’t want to sleep,"[/color] she confessed with a breathy whisper. 

Before he could speak another word, Imogen seized his lips with her own. It all felt different that time. He didn’t taste like beer, but sunlight and warmth. Imogen wanted him… [i]needed[/i] him. Her hands trailed over the muscles of his chest as she scooted to the edge of the bed and trapped his waist between her thighs. She broke the kiss to speak breathlessly, but confidently against his lips. [color=a8f9ff]"I care for you too."[/color][/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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