• Their visit lasted for a while, which I didn't mind. I had been busy with my usual SOP - cleaning, laundry, keeping my place in some sort of organization that showed someone lived here and wanted to keep it clean. I was already done with cleaning and taking the trash out when a loud crash of thunder and a flash of light erupted from behind the front door.

    I found myself propped upside down against the couch, legs sprawled over my head. My door was forced open, the sound of bickering and laughter as they walked in, Thor first and Loki following behind him.

    From my position on the floor, I scrambled to get up. I jumped up, catching myself on the edge of the couch backing from falling flat on my face. I tried to avoid looking like a fool in front of them but I'm sure I failed, considering the piercing green-eyed look I was given by the trickster god. Thor apologized about the door, mentioning something about leaving a dent. I nodded, saying it wasn't a big deal, and stepped back outside to check on said damage. I heard Loki mutter something about "Midgardians" and "simplistic domiciles"

    The 'dent' was a flat square-sized crack in the wood, my guess being he didn't use his hammer to bash in the door. More than likely, his fist had somehow broken the wooden tile. At least it wasn't something that would need to be fixed.

    I came back in, closing the door behind me. Both Thor and Loki were in conversation with each other, something about the Avengers and a magical object. The trickster god was positioned on the couch holding one of the books from my bookshelf in his hands. Thor continued to walk about, exploring the room and its contents - the bookshelf, my sword hanging above the bookshelf, various wall decorations - while speaking. It was like watching a puppy ambling about its new home.

    It seemed like this was normal. Thor was the one who took an interest in humans - Midgardians, as I was being labeled - while Loki kept to himself. I assumed he was keeping himself amused to avoid conversing with me or Thor, despite being badgered by the blonde. I assumed this was usual for them. I waited for a pause in the discussion, offering to get them drinks. Loki just nodded, his eyes never leaving the book he had acquired while Thor voiced his approval. I figured I could make myself useful instead of standing in one place looking like an idiot in front of them.

    I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Sure, they were gods. Gods were to be respected. Some were to be feared, especially those who wielded power over their subjects. Benevolent or not, I wasn't stupid. I didn't believe in gods or a higher power, but I knew better than to anger the Asgardians.

    Truth be told, I didn't want to be at the mercy of an angry god. I kept my head down and did what I could to keep them entertained. Made sure I could give what shelter and comfort I could. Which meant I would have to replenish my stock of supplies. Drink included.

    Thor was happier and the more jovial of him and his brother, Loki. The thunder god kept exploring my place and constantly asked more things of me. Why I lived away from others. Why I chose to isolate myself from the rest of Midgardian society. Why I kept a cache of silver blades under lock and key in the basement.

    Why I lived alone, without a friend or a companion.

    Loki broke his silence, throwing his brother a dark glare. "Perhaps he doesn't wish to indulge such things, Thor." I would have sworn I caught a look of sympathy, if only for a split second before he returned to the book in his hand. It was probably an illusion, considering the trickster was also the god of mischief and lies.

    It continued like this - Thor asking me more questions and probing me while Loki silenced him and returned to his book - for about another hour or so. I didn't understand why the pale black-haired god kept shutting him up or why it seemed like he was on my side. My best guess: something to do with personal boundaries. If not that, then maybe insulting a host. I wasn't sure.

    Each question felt like I was tied down, unable to defend myself and tortured by the words. Words that slowly but surely cracked open the lock on my memories, making a tiny fracture.