It was mostly for the thrill of pissing him off. The belt itself wasn't anything special; black with some pretty colors decorating it. Nothing that I would go out of my way to buy. But I wore it anyway. It went with the shirt.
I'm excited to know what he plans on doing to me when he  notices its missing. I think that he finds pleasure in punishing me. And not the fun way, either; the way that actually hurts.
He's probably going to hit me. Hard. I know he's definitely going to get his belt  back, first thing. It probably won't be that hard for him to do, anyway. Its amazing, how confident he is. Its almost as if his confidence rubs off on you,  but not in the sense that one might imagine. You become confident in him instead of yourself.
I can almost feel him looking for me. I don't even know if he is or isn't; I don't know if he's even noticed the belt is missing yet. But my confidence in him has instilled a certain paranoia in me. Not that I mind; I would rather have him beat the shit out of me than have him completely ignore me. Not that I'm desperate for his attention or anything. No, its just…nice.
As I lean my head against the wall behind me and close my eyes, waiting, I can see his face. I wish my features were as flawless as his are. I wish that when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a monster. Idly, I wonder what he sees in the mirror. That's got to be interesting. I'll have to ask him sometime.
Sighing, I open my eyes again and glance around. Still no sign of him. Is he taking a long time, just to torture me? Is he doing this on purpose because I know that he'll be after me eventually?
…What if he isn't angry at all?

•

I had to have stood there for a good hour before I noticed that he was standing in front of me. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes told me a different story. Who was it that said the eyes are a window into the soul? Whoever they are, they're brilliant. Its completely true.
I stood up straight (because at some point I had begun slouching) and stretched, my shoulders popping. "Hey." I murmured, for lack of anything better.
He blinked at me, and his eyes immediately locked with the belt around my waist. It was almost comical, and I chuckled. His eyes moved back to mine, and I could tell he wanted to glare. Or beat the crap out of me. Whichever.
"You took my belt." Four simple words, yet the seemed to carry the weight of the world. With those four words, he was able to make me imperceptibly cringe back into the wall. I don't think he knows how much of an impact he has on me. Not that I mind; I would never hear the end of it.
"Way to go, genius." I muttered. "You've managed to state the obvious." I started clapping sarcastically, and he just fixed me with those eyes. Shit, those eyes. My hands froze and fell back to my side, and I ended up just shrugging.
"Why did you take my belt?" I don't understand why he isn't angry. He's supposed to be angry. I blink at him, and shrug again.
"It's a cool belt." Lie number one. "Plus, it goes well with my shirt." Well, that isn't a lie. I get a feeling that wants to be guilty when I lie to him, but I refuse to allow myself to even suggest that he can make me feel guilty. That just isn't happening.
"Loki." He fixed me with a flat look and raised an eyebrow, and I could see a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. It was cute. Or at least, as cute as he could be. It definitely wasn't the first word I would use to describe him, but I think it fits the situation.
"What?" I know it's a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway. I suppose that's…just how I am.
"…Loki." This time he actually smiles. He has a beautiful smile; his teeth are white and straight, and the way his features adjust to accommodate the smile is amazing. However, my awe is concealed to my mind. Outwardly, I just shrug.
"If you want it back, come take it."
He laughs and takes a step towards me, and I get a little excited again. Due to his lack of reaction, my excitement had died down. Now, however, it was growing again. Gaining shape and form.
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He takes another step. I would step back, but there was a wall behind me. I would run, but I would look like a coward. He had me cornered, and he knew it.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Loki." Again. I like the way he makes my name sound. Well, my nickname. But everyone calls me Loki, so its as though that other name isn't even real. Isn't even mine.
"What?" I try my best to look irritated, and I must have done a pretty good job, because he pauses for a moment. Only a moment, though. Then that smile erupts into a grin, and before I know what he's doing, I'm pinned against the wall.
I struggle weakly, but its useless. He's so strong; I was made, and he was born. There's no way I could ever fight against him and even hope to win. After a while I stop, and he's just watching me, grinning.
"What the hell, Dontas?"
"…Loki." This time my name comes out on the end of his breath, and I choke. There's no way I can let him see my weakness, let him see that he is my weakness, but he's making it harder and harder. He has to be doing this on purpose; there's no way this is real.
I glance up at him as a response, because I don't trust my voice right now. Its pathetic. I don't understand why I get like this when he's close to me. But then again, he's never been this close to me before, so I can see why I might not come up with a good reason.
He chuckles, and I can feel his nose gently brushing against my cheek. It feels so nice, and I want to blush so badly. I force myself to calm down, though. I have to keep controlling my breath, making sure that he has no idea how much of an affect this is having on me.
Its not working very well.
After a moment or two of this torture, one of his hands goes from beside to my head and down to my waist. My heart's beating so hard right now, and I now he can hear it. Hell, he can probably feel it. Screw controlling my breathing. I suck in some air, and he chuckles at me.
"Christ, Loki." He breathes. His hand moves quickly and with experience as he unfastens the belt buckle and slides the thin strip of leather from my hips. With that he steps away and folds the belt up, stuffing it in his back pocket.
I glare at him, but he just smirks. "You're so mean." I  mutter.
"I'm flattered." He replies, and turns away from me. "But you should know by now that I only go for girls."
I almost have to do a double take. I would say I'm crushed, but that would be a little melodramatic. I'm…disappointed. "What a waste." I call after him, but he just keeps walking. My voice must have broken. Like I said before: pathetic.
Just as he's about to disappear, however, he stops. He turns. I glanced at me, and it kills me how soft his eyes are. I don't want him to pity me, but I know he will anyway. He doesn't say anything; just watches me. I watch him back.
After what could have been a minute or a century he continues on, and I can no longer see him. I can feel my jeans sagging at the hips because now there is no belt to support them. My heartbeat calms, and my breathing returns to normal.
Slowly, exaggerating the movement for no one who can see me, I force my head down further on my head so that it covers my eyes. I move and begin walking in the opposite direction that I saw him go. I swear I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I chuckle, and hope that if he is watching me, he can hear it.
"There's always a next time, Don." I mutter, turn a corner, and disappear.