[ he allows himself one second to breathe out in relief when he sees that yes, Loki did move out of the way, though whatever relief is there burns out just as quickly as the energy he let loose, a flame without oxygen.

he fixes Loki with a Look, even as the expression on his... well. his friend's face, because that's what Loki is, among everything else — someone he cares about, someone he'd do just about anything for.

except let him succumb to everything that Loki kept bottled up inside him, a brewing storm ready to go out of control at any moment. ]

You think I don't know that? [ he breathes out heavily; using so much magic at once is taking its toll on him; he's not as used to it, doesn't live and breathe magic like those who have dealt with it all their lives. ]

I'm not helping you because I think it's heroic, I'm helping you because I care about you, though right now, I can't really tell why the hell I bother!