NOTES/WARNINGS: So I had this written and then forgot all about it? Oh well, better late than never.
“It’s called heterochromia iridum, Loki, and staring is rude.” Those were the first words you ever spoke to Loki, it was a chance meeting as he had been returned under the supervision of Thor to repent for his crimes and you had decided to finally show up at one of Stark’s parties. The god sat in the corner, away from the drunken antics of the guests, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than there. As the only empty seat on the edge of the room was by him, you took a seat next to time and slowly nursed the vodka tonic. There was no conversation and you could feel his eyes on you, it was unnerving. It was like any other person staring at your unusual appearance but it was the intensity of his scrutinizing glare that made you shift and speak out.