Heart Of Gold ( A Midas x Reader Fortnite Fanfiction)

Chapter 18- The Interview (Part 2)

Thankfully, you manage to make your way over to the chair without any more catastrophes. The redness of your face has started to subside a bit, but you are still internally kicking yourself. Racking your brain, you think back to your lesson "Clumsiness and catastrophes," remembering that the best way to recover from a slip-up is to crack a good joke. And so that's what you do.

"Thought that'd make me stand out a bit," you smile, as Midas slowly looks up at you. "You know, to make me a...memorable candidate." It wasn't exactly your best material, but it still should've made the average person crack up, or, at least smile, worst case scenario.

Midas lips don't even twitch. He stares at you, unimpressed, with that look that makes you feel so inferior. "Sit down," he snaps, eyes icy cold and irritated. "We have a lot to get through."

Embarrassed for the second time in about 2 minutes, you stumble over to the chair, sinking into it as Midas stands over you, shuffling many papers around with a stressed look on his face. He is so close to you, absorbed in a world of his own, doing what he does best - work. You can tell that he is paying no attention to you as he absentmindedly shuffles and sorts but, hell, you're paying attention to him, alright. The thing that catches your attention first is his intoxicating smell. You're not trying to be funny but, honestly, you never knew a man could smell so amazing. A breathtaking perplexing of distinctly sweet, fruity and spicy tone, balanced by sweet-smelling woods lingers about him, mixed with the smallest tinge of perspiration and sweat. You'd think that would smell horrible, but, in all truth, the combination was one of the most appealing scents you'd ever experienced. It's all you can do not to just sniff him, but, Midas already seems rather unimpressed with you, and the last thing you want to do is make yourself out to be some sort of crazed maniac who likes to sniff people. He leans further over you, oblivious to how this action is making you blush. To be honest, he probably doesn't even care. Comforted by the fact that he can't love or display any romantic affection, he probably doesn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious leaning over you.

Peeking at his torso, you take in his clothes, filled out by his bulky, muscular chest and frame. He probably has a six pack, you think to yourself, and for some reason, you have to stop yourself from bursting out laughing. You don't know why, but you think it's just because it's.....Midas. You imagine what he would say if he knew that you were thinking about him in that way and, unable to contain your laughter, you let out a snort.

Midas flinches, and you instantly clap a hand over your mouth. He quickly distances himself from you for the second time, but this time, you catch a quick glance of hurt in his eyes. Almost like you just insulted him. And then it dawns on you, as he steps away from you, pale cheeks unnaturally red for the first time since you've met him.

He thought you were laughing at him.

No wonder he looked so annoyed and pissed off. He probably thought that you were mocking him. You don't bother to apologise; you know that he won't listen and, anyway, you would just embarrass yourself more than you already have today and, you really think that you're done with humiliating yourself for the time being. You sink further into the chair as he glares at you, wishing that you could just disappear. Mister Brutus may not be as good looking, or as well dressed, but, heck, he was a thousand times nicer. He didn't invite you into his headquarters and then make you feel like he wanted to boot you out the second you set foot in the place. Maybe this mission just...wasn't for you. You still had the walkie talkie- you could contact him, ask for someone more experienced and able to take your place. In fact, maybe you could even a-

"When you're ready."

You are jolted out of your thoughts as Midas leans across the desk, staring down the table at you. His hands are clasped neatly but firmly in front of him, and he is staring you dead in the eye. And then, something occurs to you, something that you didn't even think of before. Something that makes your breath catch suddenly in your throat. What if you didn't even get in? It didn't occur to you before that there was an initiation process, a process that you might not even pass. What if you got in and TNTina didn't, or vice versa? The whole mission would fall apart. You couldn't be there without her, and she couldn't be there without you. That, of course, went without saying.

You stared at Midas, determined to give this your best shot. You couldn't fail. You needed this.

"I'm ready," you said, praying that you meant it. 

Midas nodded, satisfied, and began to pick up the papers that were scattered, haywire across the desk. "Let's start simple," he said, organising the papers into small piles. It was starting to get on your nerves, the way he kept shuffling with the papers. Maybe he was nervous. "What's your full name?" he asked. 

The interview flew by in a blur after that. You weren't being funny, but you honestly couldn't have remembered a single question after that. It just all blurred into one large....conversation almost. Somehow, somewhere through that interview, you found yourself starting to (and you weren't trying to be cringey) really loosen up. You started to stop thinking about the severity of the situation and just started...talking. Questions both personal, impersonal and official. And there was the other thing. Midas didn't actually start talking about himself, exactly, but he definitely loosened up, to an extent. And, for the first time since you met, you started to see under that snarky, sarcastic surface. Not very far under, but, you definitely saw a nicer part of him. You saw a part of him for who he really was.

It was strange, but he almost seemed...boyish. under that cold, harsh surface, you saw a young boy, a boy who was far, far too young to be bearing this type of world on his shoulders alone. He seemed alone. Afraid. 

You just wished you could know why.