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Conveniently, your big winter jacket is still on, as well as your hat and mittens, and once Loki summons himself a black leather jacket and houndstooth print scarf, you're out the door, him carrying the heavy bag of cat supplies. By the time you reach the store it's 3:30 (an hour since you were released from school) and the sun is already starting to sink in the sky. It's a shame to have to walk inside where it's all fluorescent lights and the smell of pet food when you could be out in the golden sunlight. Loki seems to agree, glaring slightly at the practically sickly glow of the lights. You could swear they start flickering a bit.

"Let's get this over with quickly, I don't like it in this shop." You nod to him and lead him to the counter while you say, "I don't exactly know how you plan to convince them to give us my money back, but just make sure it's nothing illegal or rude, got it?"

"Yes, yes, understood. I will not break the rules of Midgard or disrespect the natives. But I need you to look sad." With that, he approaches the girl working the register. Shrugging, you grumble, "Fuck it, may as well." You upturn your brows and lower your eyes to the floor, where you forlornly scuff your sneakers on the linoleum.

"Excuse me, miss?" He says, his voice deep and inviting. "I would like to sell these cat necessities back to you."

The girl looks at him, amused, and answers, "Sir, I'm not supposed to give refunds. Why do you want to?"

"You see, my girlfriend's cat just died, and we no longer have use for these things. I think it's depressing her to see things like this around the house still." Of course he came up with a cute little lie. Dumb trickster. It seems to be working though - of course - and the girl slowly starts nodding her head.

"Yeah, okay, I guess. Don't tell my boss though, he'll skin me alive." She winks as she takes the bag back and adds up the total, taking it out of the register and placing it in Loki's outstretched palm.

"Thank you very much, miss. I'm sure my little lady will be very grateful." Without another word, he takes you by the hand and you walk out the door together. Once outside he lets go and gives you the money.

"Did that break any rules, [y/n]?"

"No, that was fine I guess. It frightens me how easily you lie though. You had better not use that crap on me." The raven haired man chuckles at your words and leans down slightly, whispering in your ear, "Oh, foolish girl… of course I will, eventually. It's simply in my nature." You shiver.

~*~*~*~

The shiver doesn't go away while you walk home in silence, but you still have time to ponder what he said. Does he mean that he's planning something, or simply that he will lie about something to you in the heat of a moment? Either would make sense, really. He's the God of Mischief, technically fated to lie and deceive and trick. He's also a criminal. Apparently he was punished for his crimes and knows better now, but it could all be a planned deception, because again, it's in his nature. Both are virtually uncontrollable scenarios, and both are somewhat disheartening.

Simply the fact that you're scared to trust him upsets you; in all of your daydreams and fantasies and make-believe thoughts, you fell in love with him, and he with you. True, you do feel your heart panging painfully every time his arm brushes yours, and when he had taken your mittened hand in his back there, you had stopped breathing for a slight moment, but he clearly is only infatuated with the workings of your mind.