Just a little blob of what I’m working on for Part 5 :) Still a work in progress! Lmk what you guys think ^-^
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He had never seen her so peaceful. There was no hint on her face indicating the rough night the night before, aside from the fact that she was still clutching his shirt as if he was her only breath. He gently brushed his fingers over her knuckles and coaxed them off of his shirt and kissed them gently. They relaxed. As if things couldn’t get any better, Mirage’s alarm went blaring off. He jumped. Hastily, he turned it off. “Damn alarm.” He mumbled to himself.
To his surprise, Wraith hadn’t moved. She was still asleep. They had to get ready for the Games, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. When had she ever rested so peacefully? And to disturb it for the Games? Would she ever have this again? He knew how important the Games were to Wraith and how determined she was to find whatever she’s looking for. And, as she’d revealed to him in their last match, she was getting onto something, but she’d need to compete in more Games to find out more.
Was it worth it?
Mirage laid back down and sighed, running stressed fingers through his hair. To his instant relief, Wraith stretched and yawned. Mirage couldn’t help but smile.
She was so adorable.
After a little while, though, Mirage’s eyes grew heavy again. It was surely a rough night for Wraith, but it was for him, too. Within moments, he was knocked out again.
Almost just as soon as Mirage fell back asleep, Wraith slowly opened her eyes, half way. The room was dimly lit by the few sun rays that’d made it past the dark curtains, illuminating the room with a cozy warmth and hue. Dust slowly floated about like sparkles in the sun’s warm, motherly light, bringing a new sense of beauty and elegance to it. It was when seeing the room again that she remembered she’d spent the night with Mirage. Now, Wraith was never a morning person, and she was a pretty light sleeper. Her horrors and anxieties had never allowed her to get into too deep a sleep, but she’d slept, in her opinion, pretty decently.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Their legs were intertwined and his arms were snaked around her body, pressing their chests together. Her arms were laid loosely, but comfortably, about his shoulders, and their faces were just centimeters apart. She gasped softly as they shared a breath. Mirage’s eyes were still closed, and seemed to be sleeping soundly. Her heart sank a little when remembering the night before, and what she’d put him through. Hell, she couldn’t even handle her attacks, how could he?
But he stayed.
He didn’t run away.
He didn’t think she was crazy.
He wasn’t...afraid of her.
Tears pricked her eyes.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his. She leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough for their faces to touch. Their noses and foreheads met, and she wrapped her arms around his neck more snugly. A light blush touched her cheeks as Mirage brought her waist to his and interlocked their legs more. She tentatively raised a hand and brushed her fingers through the tousled locks that had fallen over his face, tucking them under his ear snugly. She then proceeded to let her fingers trail down his cheek to his stubble...to his lips.
Her hand apparently having a mind of its own, it made its way down his neck, then to his chest. She gently began to stroke his sternum with careful fingers, when she noticed something. She undid a few of his buttons to reveal, as she thought, scars.
She blinked.
Wraith’s fingers grazed the buttons of his shirt and brushed against his chest, having no idea that this was making Mirage’s heartbeat increase by the second, so much that it hurt. Carefully, she undid a few more of them, revealing even more scars the further she went. Once reaching the bottom of his shirt, she brushed it over his shoulders. She placed her hand to his chest, inspecting each and every one, not letting one out of her touch. To her surprise, scars were sprinkled all over his muscular physique. “You’re just like me.” She said softly to herself. She then began to wonder where all of the scars, including the one on his face, came from.
“Hard life.” Mirage said, reading the inquiring look on her face.
Wraith looked up at him.
Mirage grinned, “Good morning. Didn’t know you were this comfortable already.”
Wraith blushed, “Oh, I wasn’t--”
Mirage laughed, “It’s alright, just pokin’ fun.” He shrugged. “Eh, they’re not too much of a pretty sight, but I have a ton of them, always have.”
His scars, in her eyes, were absolutely beautiful. The ones on his chest, his face, his arms. They were part of him, and she accepted him for who he was despite his scars.
Would he feel the same about her?
It was one of the many things she loved about him.
There it was again.
That word.
Love.
“How did you sleep?” Mirage asked gingerly, interrupting her thoughts.
“Oh, well...I slept alright. How about you?” Wraith asked.
“Great, actually.” Mirage replied. “Haven’t slept that well in awhile.”
Wraith looked to her hands, “Mirage. About last night...I’m sor--”
Mirage kissed her forehead, the sudden affection shutting her up. “No need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re feeling better and you got some decent sleep.” He smiled.
A pit of frustration and anxiety began to formulate in her heart. She’d fought demons. She’d battled mental health. She’d been experimented on, tortured, isolated from humanity, and forced to recreate her sense of self and identity. Simply put, she’d been through hell and back...and she can’t even tell him how she feels?
Why was it so hard?
(What I have so far! Still writing, I’ll be done with the whole part soon <3)
