Orion (smiling at Reyna as he nocks an arrow): I wish it hadn’t come to this little Roman, but you haven’t left me much choice. I’m giving you one last chance to walk away - and let me remind you, I’m not afraid to kill a woman.
Reyna (unsheathing her dagger, lip curled): Would it make a difference if I told you I won’t make it easy?
NOTES/WARNINGS: Why is it that every time I try to work on my existing fics, I end up writing something completely different?
She hadn’t noticed it at first. She didn’t make a habit of socialising with most of the people she worked with, it wasn’t in her nature and they simply didn’t have that kind of relationship; and so she’d missed the looks she had begun to receive since she’d been given her current assignment, going about the workdays completely oblivious.
Loki, on the other hand, had definitely noticed; it contrasted so sharply with the looks they gave him as he trailed behind her, after all. Usually, he just smirked in return, maybe even waved, turning their glares even colder. The whole situation was terribly amusing, he thought.