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a broken heart is all that's left

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Loki sat in the time theater, utterly defeated.

The first time he had let his guard down–the first time he had felt like there was someone he could trust, someone he could be with–he had been met with heartbreak.

The worst part was, it wasn’t even entirely for himself. It should be. She sent him away, she made that decision. But Loki’s head was still filled with worry for her. She was blinded by her rage, by her glorious purpose. He had wanted so badly to save her from that.

He just wanted her to be okay.

He wasn’t sure why he cared so much. She had made her choice and it was one that didn’t involve him. He should be angry with her. But that longing for her was still in his heart, growing stronger now that they were apart. He understood why she felt like she had to kill He Who Remains, but secretly, deep down, he had hoped that maybe he would be enough to change her mind.

Loki knew that she wouldn’t be satisfied after killing him. That empty feeling was all too familiar to him and he knew that that’s how she was feeling. What he didn’t know was how she felt about him. Before the Citadel he had thought he did, but now he didn’t know what to think.

Memories kept flashing through his head. Sylvie grabbing his hand on Lamentis. The look on her face before he was pruned. Their conversation in that meadow. The way his heart had dropped in his chest when He Who Remains had asked her if she was capable of trusting anyone and she did nothing but stare ahead before giving Loki a brief glance.

She had kissed him, but had that only been a tactic to get him away? It had felt real. He could still feel her hands on his shoulders, the way her lips felt on his.

As he sat in the time theater, Loki’s head raced with thoughts of Sylvie.

In the Citadel, all Sylvie could think about was the look on Loki’s face as she pushed him away.