AN: This was inspired by one of my favorite songs, Trade Mistakes by Panic! At the Disco, even though I'm so used to associating that song with Dick Grayson, aka Robin/Nightwing/Batman. I have a few more writings like these, short and in this same style, although they're inspired by and written with Tom Hiddleston instead of Loki. If anyone wants me to post the Tom writings on here I'll be glad to just stick them in this story. Enjoy.

Trading Mistakes

The gala was crowded as the slight woman made her way through the dancing and chatting guests. She looked uncomfortable in her silken scarlet dress. She looked beautiful as well, no doubt, her smooth olive skin showing all down her back as the dress draped down to rest at her hips, then settle gracefully to the floor. But this was not her element, and the couples and friends around her could tell she didn't belong. A waiter passed by with a tray of red wine, the woman accepting a glass with slightly trembling fingers.

A light sensation down her arm alerts her to someone's presence, and she bites her lip in an attempt to remind herself not to get her hopes up. But as she turned to see the man who had delicately graced her skin with the side of his hand she couldn't help it as a large smile broke across her face.

"You're here," she said, her voice broken and nervous with the slightest undertone of excitement, of anticipation.

"Of course I am," the man replies condescendingly. Taking the glass of wine from her hands he downs it in two gulps, a look of disgust crossing his face as the man sets the glass back down on a passing waiter's tray, as if he'd known the worker was going to be strolling by right at the moment. "Of all the things mortals have gotten wrong, you'd think they at least make decent alcohol…"

With gentle yet forceful hands, the man pulls the woman to him, his hands resting one on the bare skin of her back, the other on the side of her neck, his palm being warmed by her skin as his thumb slowly traced her jawline. She shivers at his touch as the chill from his hands travels through her body.

"I didn't think this was your kind of place…" The woman trails off as they start to dance. Her breaths begin to come in nervous little gasps as he leads her around the room. She can feel people's eyes on the two of them, everyone wondering who the tall, handsome, dark-haired man was, dancing with the invisible woman in the red dress.

"Am I not meant to assimilate with the mortals?" Ignoring the nervous feeling in her stomach, the woman looks up at the man. She realizes too late it was a mistake, as she is pulled into his brilliant green eyes, transfixed by the look she sees in him. In an instant that "look" is identified in her mind: Mischief. Trickery. A flicker of evil and manipulation and the look of a liar passes over his gaze, yanking the woman from his trance. In his arms she's trembling and shivering, but he takes no notice in this, smirking a little as he runs his hand up and down her spin, chuckle as shudders run through her body from his cool touch.

"Besides…" he murmurs, leaning close to her ear as he does so. He knows the sensation of his cool breath on her neck will drive her crazy. "I enjoy piquing the interest of so puny a race. These humnas have never been graced with the presence of a legitimate god in their sickeningly short lifetimes. In some ways I'm doing them a favor…" But as the timid woman looks back up into the face of a god, she only sees the presence of a broken monster, scared to death of himself and the misfortunes he always seemed to bring upon those he once thought he cared for. The woman can't help but see past his façade to the man inside he so desperately hides, as if his weaknesses would destroy him if anyone ever knew of them.

"But I know who you are underneath," thinks the woman as the man smirks down at her once more. "I know you better than you'll ever know, Loki…"