Loki sighed and looked down at her. “Then you are a far better man than I, Squirt,” he said after a moment. For him, there was no joy to be had in watching the object of his affections with another. It did not make him a better person. It made him bitter, angry and mad at times. Perhaps jealousy would be manageable if he hadn't had her for himself before Thor did. But Loki had. She had been his at one time and now he had to pretend that nothing was amiss, treat her as if she didn't completely crush him beneath the heel of her boot and like he didn't want to force her back up against a wall and press his lips to hers until she admitted that she was wrong and that she actually still wanted him.
He was driving himself mad again. He could feel it boiling beneath the surface of his skin. The fire giant within was begging to destroy something to release the agony from within. If Idun touched him, he would be hot to the touch.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to stay his emotions. It did neither of them any good if he lost control of himself in her kitchen. “If you need anything from me, you'll tell me, right? I'm not very good with my fists, but I could... I don't know... hit him with a stick and knock some sense into him.” Loki tried to smile. He was attempting to add humor to the situation to diffuse his own troubles and make light of Idun's. If she didn't mind that Bragi didn't love -whatever, her back... then there was no harm in making a joke of it now.
Especially since love, that truly romanticized and idyllic kind of love that the skalds sung of, didn't exist. It was an illusion. There was affection and infatuation... and then... obsession. All of which could end badly. Very, very badly. It was better to not fantasize about such things and open yourself up to hurt. Loki would rather live under the delusion that there was no such thing as romantic love than open himself up to be crushed again.