The hybrid in the cell (Complete)

What does he know ?

*Emily*

As I begin my next shift at the Lycan High Security prison, I'm torn. Part of me yearns for Loki to call for me. The endless night stretches before me, the anticipation making each second feel like an eternity. Yet, I'm also mortified by the vivid dream I had of him, and the thought of facing him now leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Time seems to crawl by until, at last, the buzzer sounds. I can sense the curious gazes of the other guards as I make my way to Loki's cell, their unspoken questions hanging in the air: Why does he only speak to me? What connection do we share? The truth is, I'm just as unsure as they are, and even more baffled by how he always knows when I'm on duty.

As I approach his cell, my cheeks flush with embarrassment, the dream's lingering sensations of his touch and the sound of his voice still haunting me. I know he can sense my presence, and I feel exposed, so I stop to take a few deep breaths. I need to regain my composure and put the dream behind me; I can't afford to act strangely around him. With each breath, I try to release the remnants of the dream, steeling myself for the encounter that awaits.

I step into the cell, and Loki glances up from his book, greeting me with a warm smile. I can't help but return the gesture. "Hi Loki, what can I do for you today?"

"Good evening, Lady Emily. It's a pleasure to have you back," he replies, setting down his book - which, to my surprise, is the complete works of Shakespeare. He rises from his seat and saunters over to the bedside table, retrieving a note. Turning to face me, he extends the note in my direction. "If it's not too much trouble, these are some items I would like to have access to."

"No problem," I assure him, my smile unwavering. "Of course, it depends on your requests, but I will pass them along to whoever's in charge." With that, I reach for the note, eager to help him in any way I can.

As my hand closes around the note, our fingers brush against each other, and I can't suppress a small gasp as a shock races up my arm and settles in my stomach. Loki's lips curl into a mischievous grin as he looks from our fingers to my face. "Something wrong, Lady Emily?"

"No, no, not at all," I stammer, shaking my head. "Just static electricity, I guess." I can't understand why I'm reacting this way, and suddenly my throat feels unbearably dry.

Noticing my discomfort, Loki strides over to the water cooler in the corner, filling a cup and offering it to me. "You look like you could use this."

"Thanks, just what I needed," I gratefully accept the cup, gulping down the soothing liquid as it quenches my parched throat. The cool water washes away some of the tension, but I can't shake the lingering sensations from our brief touch, leaving me to wonder what it all means.

Loki grins mischievously and winks at me, saying, "Yes, I know exactly what your heart desires." I nearly choke on the water, his words echoing those from the dream. But there's no way he could know about it... could he? A strange sensation takes hold of me as he watches me, one eyebrow raised, seemingly waiting for my reaction.

My heart pounds wildly, and I struggle to catch my breath. My body temperature rises rapidly, and in a flustered haste, I set the cup down, nearly sprinting for the exit. "I have to go. I forgot something I have to do, but I will make sure the right person gets your list."

"Good night, Lady Emily, and sweet dreams until I see you again," he calls after me, his laughter echoing in my ears as I hurry away, eager to put distance between us.

I walk down the corridor at a brisk pace, repeating the mantra in my mind. ‘Do not run, do not run.’

Part of me expects the alarm to sound, just like in my dream, but of course it doesn’t.

As I return to the surveillance room, I do my best to ignore the curious stares from my colleagues, feeling their eyes on me as if they know something's amiss. I hate how Loki has this effect on me, leaving me flustered and vulnerable. Yet, I can't help but be intrigued by the enigma that he is.

My thoughts race, my head a whirlwind of confusion. How could he possibly know about the dream? No, it must be a coincidence. I'm just being foolish, reading too much into his words. I try to convince myself that it's all in my head, but the lingering doubt and fascination refuse to be silenced.