Sigyn understood what he was saying. Or, at least, she thought she did. She wasn't so far gone as to be ignorant of the fact that it was probably going to be worse than she imagined. Especially with Frigg. That was going to get so nasty. She even thought she got what he meant about hurting her. Loki had said repeatedly that he couldn't and wouldn't make a commitment.
But she couldn't imagine how she could ever give up the chance to have this. Whatever this was. When she was with Loki, even when they were fighting, she had this underlying feeling that it was right, that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Even if all she got was a few weeks, a few days, this night, if that's all that happened, it was worth it. He was worth it. He was worth anything.
She nodded, knowing his was right. He had to go. Eventually, others would find out, it was inevitable. But she didn't want tonight to be ruined. And he was rather drunk.
"I'm not asking you for promises," she told him. "But I will give you one: I won't run. And nobody is going to make me either, not even you." There was a small smile then, one side of her mouth quirking up in humor. "I mean, really, Loki, you know how stubborn I am."
Going up on tiptoe, she pressed her lips against his, but this kiss was different. It wasn't the excited discovery of desire, or the demonstration of long-held yearning. It was soft, sweet, and full of tenderness. Sigyn lingered there for a moment longer than she knew she should have.
"I know you have to go," she murmured. "But when am I going to see you again?"