He was amused, as he so often was, to see the excitement on her features, the desperation in her movements. He supposed a part of that could have been attributed to loneliness - Sigyn, with all her professions of faith and loyalty, had yet to let him down in that aspect - but knew that her attachment to him was real. Odd, stupidly childish, but real nonetheless.
Her body was warm, comforting, and not for the first time Loki was struck by how well a match they were - well, in the sense that she was perhaps the only being capable of tolerating his adultery and cruelty, and yet still managed to keep him entertained and pleased throughout all the years. She hadn't bored him yet, and when the inclination of boredom crept up on him, he usually found someone else to warm his bed for a while before turning back to the one he called wife. She would always be his, because despite his flippancy towards their marriage, if she were to ever run around on him he would not only deal with the other man in question by harsh means, but would make sure Sigyn would never have the inclination to betray him again.
It was hypocritical and he knew it.
Problem was, he just didn't care.
Sighing in mock exasperation, the God slowly wrapped his arms around Sigyn's waist and allowed her this moment of comfort, let her soak in his presence and remember everything she had missed in the years they had been apart. It was no secret she missed him more than he missed her, but despite this cruelty, Loki was still quite fond of his dear little wife.
She wasn't dead yet, after all.
"Well, if you truly can't believe it's me, I suppose I will simply have to take my leave..." Mocking, as always. Teasing, as usual.