How many boxes can be unpacked now that the main event has finished and the light of day is pouring back in leaving everything that's happened between them in stark reality for her to pluck apart and worry over. A chill creeps in that she hoped would stay on the other side of the world, and it has nothing to do with the feel of Loki's skin against her own. He's still warm and perfect, and the embodiment of all that she needs him to be.

Keeping her eyes on his, she leans in and brushes her lips over his. Glass teardrops threaten to appear at the corner of her lids, but her stubborn will keep them from existence. She will not give in to anything that might tear this world apart. That's why her heart is pounding against his. She can feel it as they lay here, the tumbling of one against another. A couple of tennis shoes in a washer, or stones being purified into gems. She likes to think of the latter. That's what they've become. Possibly, right? Two raw stones, finally brought through the fire together and made into a matching set of gemstones, each to match the other.

"You said love. I did. You know. I fell in love with you, and I've never said that to another person beyond my best friend. I've never meant it in the way I do now. I mean it in the way I want you and only you Loki. I would have you and only you, but I don't even know if that's possible, the worlds we come from." Her brow furrows, and she closes her eyes, letting more doses of reality come pouring through the concrete that had been theirs only a few moments ago. How do all these holes open up. They can't live their happily ever afters. She doesn't even think he has a home on this plane.