Midnight Snack (Mirage/Elliot Witt x Reader)

Not Hungry

(Disclaimer: Yes I am well aware the legends likely don't live in dorms but a person can dream okay THIS IS FOR THE SAKE OF ROMANCE)

Knock knock.

"Elliot?" She whispered gently to the door, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the silent hallway. Most of the lights were off inside the building, but the large windows at the end of the hallway allowed glare of the moon to pour into the hall, dancing along the walls and her face.

She stood beside the door, occasionally knocking every now and then. It had felt like forever, even if she had only been standing there for a minute or two. Her hand smoothed over her face and pulled her hair back, worry being the only thing in her mind. She felt as if it would be awkward for her just to stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it even if he was likely asleep. The faint feeling of dread masked her face as she patiently stood in front of his door.

Maybe this is a bad idea. No, this is definitely a bad idea. He doesn't wanna talk to you. He's not even gonna answer the door. But you've been here too long, why not just wait the whole night if you're gonna be this stubborn.

Her hand shook as it hovered over the buzzer beside his door. She had to talk to him about the way he had acted to her that morning. The constant flirting, whispering, physical contact, it was a little much. She was only his friend, nothing more. And he treated her like one when the cameras weren't on him.

What does he think this shit is? A TV show?

She then paused. It was in fact all on TV. He meant nothing by it, it was just a simple act for him to make the ladies wish they were her. More publicity for him, more publicity for her. That meant fame, and money. He obviously felt a lot more strongly about being a star than she did. Of course, she never was big on doing stupid shit to get publicity anyways, excusing the times she punched the camera for getting in her face. That would have her in interviews for the next week, but of course she never did things like that for the sole purpose of getting attention. Not like Elliot. She preferred the Elliot who didn't have a camera on him. She even liked the Elliot in the games, he was always cracking jokes and lightening the mood for everyone. He always had her back when they were on the same team. He was a nice guy, but man was he cocky when the cameras were on him. What was that all about? It felt like he did a full 180 with his interactions with her. She didn't like it when he would blow his fans kisses, or wink at everyone, or flirt with Ajay or Wraith.... She didn't like a lot of things he did.

But she also did like a lot of things he did too. She liked when he'd wink at her and tell her good luck, when he'd always have her back in the match, when he put his arm around her and cheer loudly, when he'd made obnoxious jokes and look at her just to see if she'd laugh, when she'd stare at his wonderful features... the curve of his lips, the dark curly hair that drooped over his face, the clean cut facial hair, the sharp jawline, the lightly tanned skin, not to mention the smile... That smile could make her weak in the knees. Of course, she'd never tell anyone that.

She bit her lip, and realized that what she was doing was a stupid idea. She sharply turned to the side to speed walk back to her room, but before she walked away she felt a hand grab her arm.

"Hey! (Y/N), did you knock on my door?" Elliot stood in front of her, staring directly into her eyes which couldn't help but make her Very uncomfortable.

"N-No," she left out a soft chuckle, and her eyes darted to the side, "Why do you ask haha?" She gently tugged her arm out of his grasp, and he took notice, releasing his hand.

"I- Uh, no reason. I just thought I heard someone out here so I opened my door and saw you, but I.... I guess it was nothing."

She did respond, but only through awkwardly pursing her lips and nodding. There was a strong barrier of tension between the two of them, but she didn't and couldn't say anything. She felt as if a bead of sweat may drip down her forehead from the intense heat of his stare.