people are puppets held together with string. (there's a beautiful sadness that runs through him)

there’s something like an expression of pain on his face, his usual smile twisted into something like a grimace and his normally fancy clothing substituted for a sweater and some jeans he probably had lying around.

(you deny it at the time, but something in your heart shatters when you look at his eyes and find them tired and pained with something you can’t quite understand.)

“hey?” Loki says,