[ it's these small things thor knows and has come to read well over the years. the harsh breaths as if straining to contain something. the rapid blinks when something unexpected happens, the excess of certainty exuded when he isn't so much. no matter how far loki goes from him and how wild his wrath gets, thor still knows his brother. ]

I know. It was a bad analogy.

[ voice the kind of talking after lights out quiet, but there's a quirk of humor in that. he'd missed this, just talking to his brother. even when they're bickering, it's that piece of familiarity, of fondness that's engraved in his bones, that feels like comfort and home. ]

You're Loki. There's no one else like you. [ even before all the mess of late. he'd stuck out in asgard because of that, picked on by the idiots of the nobility, but thor'd always admired out unique and different his brother was. he'd thought the world of him. a sigh leaves him, some rustling as thor settles into the couch he's flopped on, tone lighter when he speaks again. ] And thank the Norns for that, because I don't think the realms could survive two of you. And I only have enough blood for one to make sport out of pincushioning me.