She is all dressed up for one of Pete’s parties at the mansion. He thinks she looks lovely, but she hates it. The makeup smothers her and the curls that bound about her head feel unauthentic and cumbersome.
He comes with her, and he despises it. The gowns, the drinks, the gaudy richness of it all, and, the way he must be introduced by Rose who stumbles awkwardly over the word “friend.”
“And something more?” he knows they whisper.
His smiles are fabricated, and the way his teeth barely show through his thin lips tell her he is hanging them all in his head.
But they suffer through it. They do what they must, Rose for Torchwood, and Loki for her.
And at the end of the day, the ruthless parties are just punchlines at the end of the jokes they make, and the beginning of the chuckling and teasing they provoke, and the seams binding a loneliness that dissolves through the grace of befriending another misplaced soul.