“Good evening, Loki,” you greeted, taking your usual seat on one of the couches in the living room. You were received with silence, just like you had been every day for the past three weeks. Huffing softly but indignantly, you tucked your legs beneath you, curling up against the arm of the otherwise empty couch. You dropped your attention to your book, opening it to where you’d last left off, but you couldn’t help stealing a few glances at the raven-haired trickster. He sat elegantly in an armchair that he’d pulled close to the glass wall, staring pensively into the distance outside.
Thor had brought his brother to the Tower in hope that the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” would be able to keep him under their watchful eyes, and maybe even have a good influence on him. So far, the latter part was futile; Loki hadn’t acted out at all, but he’d done nothing but brood in silence since he’d gotten here. Although, you could somewhat understand why—everyone else in the tower was either treating him with a cold shoulder, or making snide remarks to him in an attempt to rouse him up. You didn’t really understand what the point of provoking him was. You’d even attempted to break the ice with him, to no avail.