She’s childish enough to poke her tongue out to him. She rises to the tips of her toes, and it doesn’t even bring her as high as she wants. utterly ridiculous, but admittedly sweet, incredibly sweet. He thinks of ridiculous things too, some that don’t make sense until she really thinks about them, holding back a chuckle when she realizes that he had to have put a semblance of thought within the little addresses.Īnd there’s one she just loves, and she waits for him to say it so she can discreetly swoon. He calls her little things, quite literally little things. (f/n) is itty bitty and even Wraith stands taller, and for it, he teases her, all of the time, constantly. In fact, half of the Legends exceed his height.
It slipped off the in tongue a silly way, and she huffed at it. ’ Fun-size surprise,’ she thinks to herself, only having heard the address twice before. Teasingly threading on the tightrope of will they and won’t they. Others share looks of equal parts annoyance and knowing because it was high time they stopped playing coy with each other.Įxasperation becomes a close second in the crowd after entertainment, but obliviously, the two continue on in their own world. Right in between his boasting and crowd address he does so, and it receives looks, most, if not all, amused. “Hey, there fun-size surprise,” he says as a greeting, pretending as though it’s the first time he actually notices her. He always eludes a sweet charm she gravitates and gives into, and that, perhaps is why she’s so compliant. It is then that he looks down, smiling at her, the man looking rather dazzling, something she can’t deny, and that defiantly sooths things to his favor. If anyone else did and said half the shit he does, they wouldn’t be met with the same (f/n) Mirage had the fortune to become familiar with. She considers it for a moment, that she’s simply conditioned to the act before she grudgingly accepts that the only reason she’s given in is that he is who he is.īecause if anyone else had the nerve to do so, they’d lose that arm entirely. At most she heaves a low sigh, not even having it in her to argue.Īfter all, no matter what she did or said, that was the outcome.ĭespite all the times she’d shoved Witt’s arm off and has even gone to push him away entirely, he finds himself doing the same thing, over and over again. Instead, she just stands there, perhaps conditioned to the act by then. It’s not long before an elbow lands on the crown of her head, and she doesn’t sulk or shove the man’s limb off. Her eyes roll as from the corner of her eye she sees his arm closest to her begin to shift. He speaks the normal entertaining gibberish he usually spews as he talks to everyone else in the room before a match, most of which is boastful claims and during then (f/n) huffs, knowing what’s to come.
Reader is short, and I thought it’d be entertaining because I’m a small fry too.What is direction? certainly not something here lol.
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