Mirage having to help Wraith undress after an injury.
"Just keep still, dam--"
"Elliot, I am completely fine, just let me-"
"Absolutely not, the doctor said that it's important for you to have support and-"
"And that doesn't mean getting your hands under my shirt."
It's been ten minutes now. It was becoming clear that he was not giving up and frankly, she's become quite tired of swatting his hands away and wincing with every struggling motion. During one of the last games, she's gotten hurt a little more than she should have ever allowed herself to and now... well, those were the consequences. The unforeseen consequences.
And there she was, sat on the bed in her room, with Mirage's palms decidedly way too close to her hips. He, probably, meant well, but it did not make the entire procedure any easier. She could undress herself if she damn pleased and did not need anyone's help, that's just ridiculous. Pale blue irises drilled a hole through Elliot's own hazel eyes. With both palms pressed taut against her waist, it proved a viable enough strategy against Elliot's plans to invade her personal space. But damn her if it did not hurt.
"Renee, come on, you know it's for your own good." "Like hell it is, get away from me, Elliott, I can undress myself just fine-"
"Just like last time?"
"We don't talk about that."
Wraith's gaze fell to the floor, a sulk resurfacing upon her pouty features. It was not like her to act so... stubborn and childish, but the wound was tangible, real and uncomfortable and there was not all that much she could do in retaliation if Mirage did decide to go through with his plan despite her own wishes. She pursed her lips. It did not help that a single brush of Elliott's digits against her bare skin was sure to make her squirm. It tickled, and even more than that - made her feel like this... interaction they had was far more intimate than it ever had the right to be.
So, this is probably not everything I'm going to write on this yet, but it's a start.
So, this is a short lil’ thing I wrote a few months ago, but never finished, so-- perhaps now’s the time?
———
It was a Friday morning. A particularly lazy one, but that could only be attributed to the fact that the Games were over, at least until the next announcement.
Mirage opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, squinting as his irises adjusted to the dim atmosphere in the bedroom. Soon enough, however, his gaze fell to the side, and there she was.
It felt like something of a dream, still. To be laying next to the woman he never could have dreamed of, and to be able to embrace her, and love her was something seemingly out of the spectrum of possibility. Until not too long ago, that is.
Elliott moved onto his side and once his eyes caught a glimpse of the raven locks messily spread across the pillowcase, he reached out almost instinctively, the back of his large hand brushing away a few loose strands. She wasn’t much of a peaceful sleeper, but it was rare to witness such a serene expression on her face. Ever since they’ve met and even all the way up until now, her dreams were troubled and filled with anguish that only seemed to settle once reality sunk in. And as far as feeling safe went, there were still days that went by during which she’d rather hide away in her room than talk to anyone. It was not easy. Far from it, actually.
He realized that he’d probably been staring for too long, but it’s not like she was awake to scold him... right? Well, if she did see, then he’d probably have a lot of explaining to do taken that, err...
His internal dilemma was abruptly interrupted by a sound which, upon further inspection, appeared to be made by Renee. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head to get a better look at her face, but it seemed like she was still fast asleep. He would let out a sigh of relief if not for fear of waking her up and risking... well, sure death. Wraith was not a morning person.
Back sinking into the bed again, he was smiling like a hopeless idiot. If one were to look at it from an outsider’s perspective, he’d seem insane, that was for sure. Rubbing his forehead, Elliott let out a low chuckle. It was so silly, wasn’t it? To be so... enamored. It’s not like he was a teenager going through his first love experience. He was a grown man, for God’s sake.
“Elliott...?”
He almost jumped. Ohdamnit, she woke up. Before he could answer, however, Renee shifted in her spot, and with a flurry of inky locks, he caught a glimpse of her sleepy eyes.
“Why are you up so early?” Renee’s voice was quiet, and soft. Her head turned, presumably to take a quick look at the bright display of her phone, but soon enough her piercing blue eyes focused on him again.
“... it’s not even ten yet.”
Mirage blinked. Well, it couldn’t be said that he was an early bird, and he most certainly did not mean to interrupt her sleep. She seemed perpetually tired.
“I’m sorry if I woke you up. Just, uh... figured I’d make breakfast and... stuff, you know.” He was stuttering, again. What was he even nervous for?
Her eyes narrowed, she seemed to be thinking. Though barely a few seconds passed and he could feel a faint warmth cling onto his own form. With one of Renee’s arms draped over his chest, there was no way he could leave the bed. His chest vibrated with an amused chuckle.
“What’s wrong, baby?” It was cute. While she definitely seemed like she was still half-asleep, it was a gesture he wouldn’t necessarily expect. In a swift motion, his digits brushed through her hair, parting each strand carefully, and meticulously.
She groaned.
“It’s too early... and I need you here,” Wraith muttered under her breath, with words so soft they could almost pass for a delirious whisper.
“I’m not going anywhere, you know,” Mirage pointed out, the corners of his lips stretching out into a wide smile. “You’re going to have enough time to get sick of me yet,” he added, with an awkward snigger completing the remark.
How could he? He had absolutely no right. None. It shouldn’t have even crossed his mind, even—
Deep breaths, Renee, there is no point in getting angry, it’ll just make you feel worse. Hah- But really, is there even a way to feel worse than this? To put your trust in someone, think that you have something, an inkling of a friendship, only to find out that they’re to wrapped up in themselves to care about anyone else.
She scoffed. This wasn’t right and, for the first time in a long time, she felt hurt.
Sorry had to take a break from writing for a bit due to irl stuff, but I’m gonna start writing again soon ♥️ in the meantime feel free to read the other parts! Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated!! Thank yoouuu 🥰🥰
“Did you...ever have a family...?” She asked in a soft, curious voice. Wraith had been nestled warmly by the fireplace in Mirage’s private condo. It was filled with pictures, collectibles, and posters of him, of course, along with all of his trophies and medals from the Games, fan mail, fan art, comics, and practically anything else related to him.
“My family?” Mirage repeated in surprise, not really expecting her to ask that of him. He was in the kitchen, making them both some warm mugs of hot chocolate to treat the increasingly bitter cold from which they’d just sought refuge. “Well, yea. I have a family. I’m the youngest of four. Four boys. Had to screw around to get attention, you know.”
Wraith scoffed, “Bet that wasn’t hard for you to do.” She brought the blanket (with a full length Mirage printed onto it) more snugly around her shoulders, having replaced Mirage’s coat, which was hung neatly in the closet by the front door.
Mirage grinned, “Nope.” He laughed. “We were definitely a handful for our parents.”
Wraith bit her lip embarrassedly and looked to the crackling flames when realizing she had no idea what those were. She knew everyone had them, she’d heard the term before. Something about it was vaguely familiar. She wanted to ask, but the words stopped in her throat. Would she sound weird for asking such a ridiculous thing?
What would he think of her if she did?
What if he thought she was joking?
What would he think when realizing she was being serious?
A pit grew in Wraith’s stomach as her anxieties grew, and she began to get a headache from overthinking.
It’s Mirage. He’ll understand. She self-consoled.
Wraith took a breath and asked (after conjuring up the bravery) in a voice soft as silk, “What are parents?”
Mirage looked over at her. The look in her eyes told him she was being genuine and serious. “Uh,” he began, not wanting his surprise or delay in response to come off judgemental or make her feel bad. “Well...parents are the people who take care of you. Claim you as your own, cause, uh. They gave birth to you? Well no your mom does that part...the dad just--ahem.” He shrugged. “Yea they take care of and love you, basically. Raise ya. All that fun stuff.” He picked out two mugs from the cupboard.
Well, that wasn’t so bad. She thought.
Did she ever have parents...? She wondered.
“You have parents?” She asked.
“Well, yea.” Mirage replied, setting them on the countertop and closing the cupboard. “Everyone has parents, right?”
Wraith solemnly averted her gaze to her hands, saying quietly. “Right.”
Mirage winced. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean--”
“It’s alright.” She said, rather shortly.
Mirage rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I mean, not everyone has parents.” He said in an attempt to make it better. He shrugged and said in a tone to play it off, “Besides, it’s not like having parents make you cool or anything.” He removed the pitcher from the stove once the water’d heated to the perfect temperature.
“At least not mine, heh. I mean, what kind of parents tell you you were an accident baby and try to sell you online?” He began pouring the water into each of the mugs, “OnLINE.” He stressed. “And for FREE?” He passionately continued, still holding the steaming pitcher, waving it along with his animated hand gestures and story retelling. Wraith raised the blanket to her mouth, she couldn’t help but softly giggle at his increasing annoyance as he recalled the memory.
Mirage was too enraged to notice her adorable little laugh. “I mean, hell. Like okay, I was an accident and you wanna sell me, but for free?” He gestured to himself. “I mean, look at me, I’m amazing! I’m handsome, I’m smart, I’ve got fans--I’ve gotta be worth a nice rack of pork chops at the very least. And I was the cutest little thing, too.” Mirage set the pitcher down, crossing his arms and leaning against the refrigerator. He shook his head, confused as to why he was so unwanted, “I had chubby cheeks...I had curls…”
“What were your parents like?” Wraith asked. “Aside from wanting to sell you, of course.”
“My mom was the sweetest woman you’d ever meet. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. She was great.” Mirage began, the selling incident instantly leaving his mind. He stood and resumed finishing the hot chocolate, adding the cocoa powder. “She was crazy smart. My mother was an engineer. She’d make things, design things, build things, break a few things.” He laughed. “That was always funny.” He laughed again. “She makes me, well, me.” He said, raising his arms to bask in his glory. “Mirage.”
He plopped a couple marshmallows into each of the mugs. Carefully, he carried the mugs to the living room and set them on the glass coffee table. He moved the gold and red accent pillows on his sleek dark gray couch to allow himself a seat next to Wraith. “She introduced me to illusion-creating tech. And...well, long story short I got obsessed and addicted, went to school and learned about mechanisms and doohickeys and whatchamacallits, and, well, yea, here I am.” He handed her her mug first.
“Then we made some pretty cool stuff together. My favorites were all the holo tech, I mean come on look at this baby.” He said proudly with a smug look on his face, gesturing to his outfit. “Worked at the bar for who knows how long, heard about the Games and wanted to join, sounded pretty fun. But I didn’t want to leave my mother alone, you know, since everyone else was gone.” His face fell.
“Until one day she came up to me after a long day of work and gave me a set of customized holo devices and told me to follow my dream.” He looked at her and smiled. “So, I did. And I promised to give her some money to help her get out of some long overdue debts and out of the slums and dirt we’d always lived in. I can finally say I’ve helped make her happy, now. I make sure she’s taken care of before going off to compete, cause you know, never know if that’s my last time seeing her.”
Wraith failed to suppress the warmth that washed over heart. “She sounds amazing.” She took the mug graciously. “Thank you.”
Mirage smiled, “Yea, she really is. Everything I do now in the Games is for her.”
Wraith couldn’t help but feel her heart warm her chest. She’d always seen Mirage as silly and rather self-centered, but it turned out, to her pleasant surprise, that there were things that truly mattered to him more than just women, fans, or having the spotlight on him. “She’s lucky to have such a great son like you. I’m sure you two have always been really close.”
Mirage blushed at her compliment, “Thank you.” He wrinkled his nose and shrugged, “Nah, not always. We didn’t really get along that well at first (which was entirely my fault), and we kinda just bonded after my three older brothers died in the Frontier War, so all she had was me by default.” He laughed wryly. “But honestly with the engineering thing, it helped make it work. Now I can’t imagine life without her.” He took a sip from his hot chocolate, only then realizing Wraith hadn’t.
“Don’t like hot chocolate?” He asked.
“Oh, no, that’s not it.” she replied. “I’ve just never had it.” Her eyes didn’t move from the chocolate tainted white blobs floating in her mug. “What are those?”
Mirage scoffed, “What are those? Only the best things ever!”
Wraith smiled, “What are they?”
“Marshmallows. Soft, squishy, sweet thingamajigs...I don’t really know what they are, but they make everything a million times better. Especially in hot chocolate.” Mirage replied. “Try it.”
Wraith looked at him, then back to her mug. Slowly, she curled her full, rounded lips, silently blowing away the steam that arose from the mug, watching it dissipate into the air. She closed her eyes and inhaled the heavenly, chocolatey aroma, exhaling a soft hum of content. Mirage, adorably, watched her place the mug’s rim to her mouth, but couldn’t keep his eyes off her beautifully shaped lips. Keeping her eyes closed, she took a sip. She sighed through her nose in content as the soothing warmth made its way down her throat and through her body, reveling in the cocoa’s richness and the marshmallow’s delicately sweet touch.
“Mmm.” She opened her eyes and met his. Her heart skipped a beat. The look in his eyes scared her. But...in a good way. There was no doubt he was in total awe and completely enamored of her existence. Mirage couldn’t hide anything from her even if he wanted to, and the throbbing in his chest that burned so fiercely out of love, longing, and desire began to grow to a point at which he couldn’t control or suppress for much longer.
Her heart raced.
There was so much she wanted to tell him.
So much he needed to know.
So much she wished she had the strength to tell him.
So much she wanted to share with him...in every way possible.
A blush touching her cheeks, she smiled warmly. “It’s delicious.”
Mirage beamed. “I’m glad you think so. And that looks good on you, by the way.”
Wraith slightly furrowed her brow, “What does?”
Mirage replied dreamily, “That smile.”
Wraith quickly averted her gaze as her blush deepened, she cleared her throat in attempt to change the subject, “What about your fath--”
Mirage’s mood changed quickly. “My dad was an absolute scumbag. Was never there. Hit and cheated on my mom. Abused and overworked us boys. Cursed us out. Destroyed the house. Kept us poor and put us down. Drank his life away and took his problems out on us. List goes on and on.” He said with a wave of his hand.
“Disappeared one day and never came back. Left us dirt poor and starving and took everything my mom owned to sell for money but you know, it was prolla-prabob-parlabol--” He threw his hands up in frustration. “WORDS.” He hastily stood up and made his way to the wall, punching it vehemently. He grabbed his wrist and gasped sharply in pain. He kicked the wall in frustration and sat on the side of his bed, facing the wall. “His leaving was the best thing that ever happened to us.” He ended in spite, fiddling with the straps on his glove.
Wraith didn’t know what to think.
She had never seen him like this before.
The saddened and angry little boy inside of him was waking up, and she knew that feeling all too well. To feel trapped. To have emotions suppressed and not worked through. To feel resentment and revenge. To want answers. To want to just know why.
Without a sound, she arose from the cushions and to his side, the bed bouncing a little as she sat. Mirage’s body swayed a little from the movement, his head hung low. Wraith reassuringly laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mirage. I know that must’ve been very hard for you...to not have someone there when you needed them most, let alone cause so much pain...and to not understand why.”
Her hand gently turned his face to hers, and the look on his face nearly broke her heart. His face fell, his head hung low, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. Angry tears pricked his eyes, and several had begun to make their way down his cheeks.
Wraith continued, gently cupping his face with her hands and using her thumbs to wipe away his tears, “To have things happen out of your control and suffer from it. Whether it’s you or loved ones. Then you question what you did wrong and what you should’ve done right, as if it’s your fault...taking on that burden.” She lifted his face so their eyes met, and with a gentle motion, she brushed his hair from his face and behind his ear, then caressing his cheek in the same manner he had to her earlier. “But that doesn’t make you wrong in how you feel. Your emotions are valid. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be angry. Just don’t let them define or change who you are.” She smiled.
Mirage stared at her, speechless.
How did she know what to say? And how to say it? So elegantly and well put?
“That’s...exactly how I feel, Wraith.” Mirage said. He never doubted her past experiences, but the level to which they could relate was so touching it made his heart feel so much lighter. He now knew, finally, at 30 years old, that he wasn’t alone.
Wraith scoffed through a soft laugh. “Well, I know a thing or two about loss and pain.”
Mirage gently took her hands from his face and cherished them in his, pressing his lips to her knuckles several times, not breaking eye contact. “Well, you’re not alone anymore.”
