Loki rolled his eyes. Well, sort of. He didn't really roll his eyes because his eyes were closed. But he definitely made and attempt do so do with the lids firmly clamped shut. On the long laundry list of reasons why he would never, ever marry again, somewhere around number twenty-three was the fact Thor had no idea what a shut door meant. To normal people with manners, it meant knocking and waiting for an invitation, especially after hours. To Thor, it meant walk in anyway. Loki never bothered throwing up a board or a lock. He was sure that would just be seen as an extra challenge to be overcome. So, while being woken up when he was alone wasn't so terrible -annoying but not terrible, Loki would not subject some hypothetical wife to an over-zealous adventure-hungry Thor barging in uninvited.
“Go away,” he said, keeping his eyes closed. “It is not tomorrow yet. Come back tomorrow.” Loki was laying on his bed, but backwards. His head was where his feet should be and his feet where his head should be. He had not slept yet and was just about nearing the point where he would maybe fall asleep except now... there was Thor.
Dammit.
What the fuck was he talking about anyway? Rescue mission. Psh. His left eye opened just a bit, catching a glimpse of the painted design on the headboard, sighed and shut the lid again. Damn her, too, while he was at it. “Or next week would be even better. But I'll settle for tomorrow.”