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"Erm, Wraith doesn't like any sort of physical contact."
It was a warning that had been passed to Mirage time and time again.
The first time they'd teamed up together, she'd flinched when he grabbed her shoulder after unsuccessfully trying to get her attention.
He'd chalked it up as surprise, and didn't think much of it -until Wattson had mentioned it when he brought up how cold her demeanor was.
Mirage had taken note after that; making sure to only touch Wraith when it was absolutely necessary, such as when reviving or pulling her out of direct danger.
It seemed as though she'd caught onto that fact pretty quickly herself; the first time she'd notice him pull away, she'd smiled appreciatively at him.
He was pretty sure his heart had stopped in that moment.
"It's best to leave the dearie alone."
Horizon had wisely advised the holographic trickster after he'd attempted to calm Wraith when he stumbled upon her yelling at seemingly nobody in particular, hands gripped tightly against her forehead. She'd looked up at him with a pained expression across her face before she phased away in a blur of sparks.
Apparently it happened more often than not -only she was usually able to control the voices she heard, despite everything they put her through.
Sure, within the games they'd served her well, guiding her out of unforeseen danger.
But outside, in real life? They caused her to second guess her every action, a constant reminder that it was better to be alone and lonely than trust others and worry about getting hurt in the process.
Mirage had ignored Horizon's words, seeking his teammate out instead.
He just didn't believe in fighting any sort of battles alone.
He found her curled into a corner, unable to make it to the security of her bedroom with her head against the wall, her fringe just barely hiding the bruise that had already began to form across her forehead.
"H-hey, hey there." Mirage called out to her in a hushed voice, crouching beside her as he cautiously placed a single hand on her shoulder, "Don't go around hurting yourself any more. That doesn't work, you know. That's why the Apex Games exist." He said, a hint of humor in his tone.
He'd often found relief in comedy, himself.
"You should leave." Wraith responded, her tone gravely and cold.
She'd said that he should leave. Not that he had to.
He voiced that thought back to her, slumping against the wall beside her defiantly as he looked towards her with a raised eyebrow.
She'd scoffed at his actions before turning back to the wall, breathing slowly through her nose as she shut her eyes.
Mirage kept his shoulder pressed against hers the entire time, just so she'd know that she wasn't alone.
"Chica nearly broke my leg the last time I tried anything, heh."
Octane almost seemed a little proud of the fact as he popped up from beside Mirage while he was watching Wraith spar against Bangalore.
"So?" He asked, trying his best to hide his irritation as he attempted to refocus on the match in front of them. He'd chalked his short temper up to the fact that Pathfinder had beat him out just earlier. They really should have put that smiling tin can against one of the murderbots. It'd be more fair that way.
"Hey amigo, chill. I have eyes for someone else, anyways." The speedster said, shit-eating grin on his face as he patted Mirage on the back before snapping his goggles back on and bouncing away in high spirits.
He didn't bother telling Octane that he never asked nor had any indication that he cared, but his heart admittedly felt a bit lighter at his words.
"What'd he say to you?"
Mirage's head whipped around as he suddenly found Wraith behind him, breathing heavily with a towel around her neck as she followed his gaze to the door.
"N-nothing important." He said, clearing his throat as he tried not to stare at her bare stomach aligned right beside his face.
Wraith scoffed, vaulting over the bench to take a seat beside him, "Well, whatever it was, don't listen to him. He's full of shit. Did I ever mention that I almost broke his leg once?"
Mirage let out a surprised bark of laugher, shaking his head at how on the mark she was and pushing her on the shoulder playfully. He wrinkled his nose, "You're all sweaty. Did you at least win?"
Wraith splayed her fingers onto his chest and shoved him backwards off the bench.
"It's a pity. Someone as beautiful as her. She could have anyone if she wanted, you know -but let's just say, she uses her claws in different ways."
Mirage knew.
Oh, he knew.
Wraith kept her fingernails short -she'd told him the story, a few months after they'd started becoming constant teammates. After they'd started relying on one another.
In short, having long nails was hazardous to herself.
"What if you get itchy?" He'd asked her.
"What?"
"Like, I don't know, what if your back itches or something? How are you gonna scratch it?"
Wraith shorted, tugging up Mirage's sleeve and raking her nails over his skin, "I have nails. I just keep them short." She said with a roll of her eyes, before resting her face back against an open palm.
"Damn, that's as hard as you can scratch? Gonna have to rethink your Christmas gift this year."
"I can scratch just fine."
They were bored, sitting on the couch at Mirage's a week before the next Apex match as they idly half-watched some documentary that was playing in the background, thoughts occupied entirely elsewhere.
"Trust me, you've never felt the scratch of real nails. Turn around." Mirage directed her, earning a squinty eyed look before the woman abided.
She'd been wearing a thin, ribbed top with a turtleneck, and he hadn't given it a second guess before running his nails across her back, earning a shiver of approval from Wraith.
"Oh shit. That's not bad, Witt." She said, leaning into him as she turned her head around, "Guess you're good for something."
"Hey!" Mirage exclaimed, bringing his hands up to rest upon her shoulders, "I take personal offense to that, you know. Be more mean to me and there'll be no more back scratches for you."
"Oh, so this is gonna be like, a regular thing now?"
"Can't imagine she's had much luck in the dating department. She's as much of a cold-hearted killer as I am a soldier."
Mirage had taken Bangalore's disdainful words with a grain of salt; to put things nicely, he knew she and Wraith didn't exactly see eye to eye.
Regardless, he didn't know what possessed him to ask her out of everyone about Wraith's potential (or lack of) love life -maybe it was because he knew that Bangalore'd be the only one who wouldn't ask questions and give him an outright answer, instead of simply writing him off as someone merely seeking a challenge.
The thing was; they'd kissed -he and Wraith.
It was an accident, in the middle of Energy Depot on Olympus.
He'd always hated it there; his decoys hadn't exactly perfected their movements, so it was especially easy picking him out from the bunch whenever he'd employed them underneath the stairwells.
There may also have been a few times in which he'd panicked and fallen right off the map, much to the chagrin of his teammates.
So it was natural that Mirage was extremely on edge as he crouched beside Wraith in one of his least favorite places on the map, wedged against the door as the hid from Valkyrie's team, the sound of her jets a constant reminder of her tireless search for the two.
He'd asked Wraith for her game plan, as usual -she was the brains, he was the looks, okay? He'd admit that, at the very least.
But she'd been unresponsive, eyes flashing as she stared catatonically ahead.
It was important that they stayed quiet in that moment, so he'd taken to leaning in against her ear to repeat himself, only for Wraith's head to snap to him in that instant.
Their lips had firmly met, and he'd been tempted to press his hands against her cheeks, to hold her fast.
But he'd jumped away as she did, spluttering apologies with a red face.
They'd placed third that game, both too embarrassed to look each other in the eye for the remainder of the match.
When he'd woken up in Medbay after taking a Kraber shot meant for her, he'd found Wraith slumbering on the chair beside his bed, her head slumped onto his chest with her hands grasping his as though it were the only thing tethering him to this world.
She'd stirred awake after his heart monitor started admittedly going crazy, her eyes flashing once in alarm before her gaze settled upon his, a weary smile spreading across her face.
Her grin only widened as Mirage slowly brought her hands to his lips, brushing them lightly across her knuckles.
"She likes you, best boy friend. I can see that."
The first time Mirage had woken up in his bed with Wraith in his arms, he'd felt as though he were still dreaming. That he'd somehow tripped down the stairs in Paradise Lounge and fallen into a deep coma.
And if he truly were asleep, he never wanted to wake up again.
He didn't realize he was staring at Wraith until she'd woken up as well, the carefree expression on her face faltering as they lingered in silence against the still air for a moment too long.
"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, voice still hoarse from the night before.
"O-of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" Mirage stammered, brushing her hair back with a hand.
"...Do you regret it?" Wraith continued, eyes uncertain as she cast her gaze aside.
"Never." Mirage quickly responded back, pressing his forehead against hers, "What do uh, all the other little Wraiths say? They can tell if I'm telling the truth, right?"
The woman snorted, turning her head away and allowing Mirage to press her into the crook of his neck instead, "The voices aren't exactly lie detectors. And it sounds weird when you call them 'little Wraiths'."
Mirage sniffed as he pulled himself up with her still in his arms, resting his back against the headboard, "Well, I think it's cute. I like to imagine a bunch of tiny little yous running around your brain and like...I don't know, cupping their small hands around their mouths and screaming like, 'Dr. Blasey! He's telling the truth! The most handsome man in the universe is head over heels for you!'"
"I don't sound like that!"
"Of course you don't. The tiny Renees do."
"The tiny Renees." Wraith repeated, a smile on her lips.
"Yep."
"And how, exactly, would you know what they sound like?"
Mirage turned his gaze up to the ceiling for a moment, as though searching for the answer up there before looking back to Wraith, a finger tapping against his temple, "They tell me all sorts of stuff."
His companion lifted an inquisitive eyebrow in disbelief, "About?"
"About you, silly." He continued, wrapping a hand against the back of her nape, "Like how you hate the smell of saline."
"Everyone does."
"Oh, is everyone also ticklish in the back of their knees?" Mirage said teasingly, pressing his lips against her forehead, "They also tell me that even though you're right handed, it's more easy to sneak up on you from the right side, cause your eyesight is better on your left. You won't wear contacts either, because you don't like things in close proximity to your eyes."
Wraith furrowed her eyebrows, pulling herself further up on top of him, "Wait, how did you know that?"
Mirage frowned, wrapping his arms tighter around her, "You mean, you didn't realize that was why I always stood on your right side?"
Wraith's eyes flashed, unmoving for several seconds before she blinked twice, focusing her attention back on the man underneath her, "That's why you always insist on staying on my right? I thought it was because you said your left was your best camera angle."
"And you believed me?" He asked with a grin, "Don't you know? Every angle is my best angle. I'm perfect."
Wraith scoffed, shoving him on the shoulder, her head bent down in a quiet laughter. When she lifted her head back up, she placed both hands on Mirage's face, pressing her lips against his.
She pulled back, an easy grin on her face as she ran her fingers through his hair, "Yeah, you really are."