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Heart pounding behind ribs, it almost feels like it could break them. Footsteps are long but fast, aggressive and desperate as Mirage sprints down the alleyway, his breath catches in his throat but it sputters out into a laugh at the thrill of the chase.
Elliott Witt didn't take fame seriously. Main reason he acquired it was to support his ill mother but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it! Right? His idea of fun was a little ridiculous, getting himself into trouble and acting like a child quite frankly. It didn't take a lot to tick people off in this day and age, especially when they were drunk, very drunk.
Yelling and footsteps chased down behind him as he darts into a different ally, recognising signs as it labels the street of his hotel. Perfect!
Not to perfect upon feeling the rough grasp around his wrist tugging him back, feeling like he was going to get whiplash from the sudden jolt backwards. Mirage whimpers quite frankly, eyes widening as he squirms, thinking his new found enemies had caught up to him only to meet with someone else, a familiar sight. Blue eyes, blond hair, consistently pissed off face. Oh, his saviour!
"Wh — Oh — Oh! Hey Rev!" Mirage greets all too joyfully, waving with a free hand.
His hair dropped in front of his eyes, covering his sight, distorting it almost but he certainly sees Revenant pull a gun on the approaching men. His arm is stiff, steady as he aims the gun, his attention focused entirely away from the celebrity in his grasp.
Fuck.
Mirage's expression drops. He's nervous now, he's not entertaining and playing a façade, it was supposed to be fun and that's all. He watches Revenant fire a warning shot towards the drunkards, thin eyes and furrowed brow as he stares down the road, stern. The shorter of the duo can't help but flinch at the sound, jolting and pulling his arm back in an attempt to free it. It wasn't that his bodyguard practically holding his hand was an issue, it was the eruption of a bang and a bullet. His grip tightens around Mirage's wrist, to a point where it hurts. Luckily enough, the posse who chased the man were turning on their heels, scrambling to escape the gunshots and flee the scene.
It's now when Revenant snaps his attention to Mirage, his glare becomes harder, spiteful.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He spits immediately, yanking a pained arm closer to make Mirage nearly fall into him with a yelp.
He's biting the inside of his lip as he catches himself on Revenant.
"Hey — Hey! I was just having some fun! Y- You don't have to be an ass about it," the unnecessarily handsome man retorts, he wiggles his hand finally freeing it from Revenant's grip and pulling it back to himself. He fixes his hair of course, nothing was as important. Curls being pulled from his face and back to their usual placement. He wrings his wrist then, pouting at the pain.
Mirage did put on this cute facade and whatever but that didn't resist the fact his stomach twisted nervously and he feared each response.
Revenant was taller, stronger and honestly in some ways just better — He just didn't express that, instead working as a bodyman for a celeb. Mirage wondered how he ended up here sometimes.
"I'm not here to baby-sit you, idiot, get your shit together," the suited man snaps. He shoves his gun away into his belt and turns away, gazing off down the street. Mirage flinches with the yell although it's barely obvious, his face scrunches. A pale hand idly travels to his cuffs to fix them, Mirage can't help but glimpse at the rough fingers toying with gold buttons. His hand still wringing his pained wrist although he slows as his eyes are stuck on the others.
Mirage scoffs, nervously but he plays it off as if he meant it, "You get paid for this! Don't act like you — You don't enjoy it or something," he quips in reply. Grabbing the collar of his own hoodie and fixing it, moving the way it sits on his shoulder while disgruntled brown eyes stare up at Rev.
He spins on his heels, turning away to find his way to the hotel.
Mirage was childish to put it in simple terms. It wasn't always put on as a show though, sometimes it's genuinely what goes through his mind. It pisses off Revenant.
Why did it piss him off?
Just as the idiot beside him said, he was being paid to stand there and make sure he didn't die. He could get hurt for all he cared yet Rev was insistent on defending him and keeping him out of trouble.
He kind of enjoyed hurting others. Maybe it was an excuse to scare the shit out of drunks.
An exasperated sigh escapes parted lips and he trails after Witt, who quite frankly is upset with the scolding he got. Mirage opens his mouth with a scrunched face as he hears the blond start talking again, "Don't you have something better to do with your time? I've better to be doing than chasing your ass around this shitty town," he remarks. His eyes don't leave the view ahead of them as they walk almost side by side. Revenant slightly behind as he follows like a dog by Mirage's side.
Crossing arms over his chest and glaring, "Again! Why are you complaining? I'm a grown man."
"Then act like it," he growls back. He side eyes the shorter man as they trail into the lobby of the far too grandeous hotel Mirage splashed money into.
It was modern and simplistic, nearly blank. Black seating sat in certain areas across from reception where MRVNs stood ready to take orders from annoying customers. Fire illuminated the dim entrance, sitting in a pit between couches.
It's comfortable to say the least.
Despite their little bickering, he keeps a keen eye. Taking a sharp mental note and stalking every unfamiliar face, picking out people who he figures aren't trust-worthy. He'd be ready.
Mirage mumbles to himself, storming off to a seating area, "Fuck you," he throws himself back onto the couch. Arms are crossed, his bottom lip sticks out and his brow furrows. The nearly 30 year old man was throwing a hissy fit.
Revenant tilts his head, a brow cocked amusedly at the dramatics Mirage expresses.
"Whining won't get you anywhere," he reminds while walking behind the couch to stand behind his employee, hands held out in front and connecting with each other in an idle position. Eyes trail down to meet Mirage who tosses his head over the back up the couch, to gaze up at Rev. Wasn't the best angle to see the blond man but it was new. His lips are pursed and crooked as he looks up, studying the upside down sight he has as he looks up to the character behind him, he's thinking. What was he gonna eat for dinner? With this thought, he looks away and sits up again, arching his hips forward to stretch.
Revenant's foot taps impatiently as he watches Elliott get up again. It was like minding a child. Sometimes he wished he could cave his face in with bare knuckles himself, his face scrunched with that thought as he stares down at him. He pictures it quite vividly.
"I'm st — Stare — Sarv — I'm really hungry, Rev, I'm kinda craving pork—" his thinking out loud is interrupted by a shatter of glasses, fearful shrieks and the proceeding sound of bullets.
Fuck.
Panic sets in on Revenant and he moves faster than he can think to grab Elliott and drag him back, pulling him over the couch and into a tight hold, close to his chest. Elliott hadn't processed it, ducking and pulling hands to his head to protect himself and letting out a shriek as he's grabbed and forcefully moved.
It falls silent for a while, brown eyes meeting blue, his protector's chest falls rapidly and quite frankly, Mirage feels safe there. Revenant was just doing his job but he felt like he was actually cared for. Though it feels like a long time, this only lasts a second. Their moment of bliss interrupted.
Rounds of guns, panic returning to both of them.