Chapter Text
"Hello, (Y/N)," a very cute voice said directly beside you. You looked over to see who uttered your name when a creepy girl with long blonde hair and a rather frightening stare was looking back at you.
She sat herself down next to you on the bleachers and placed a big, white, and fluffy cat on her lap. Her skinny fingers stroked the cat with a stare that matched her own, both of them seemingly attacking you with their challenging eyes.
"Uh, hello," you replied and nodded once at her before you turned your gaze back to the baseball field.
It was filled with players getting ready to start a baseball game and your eyes scanned each one carefully before they landed on the catcher.
You sighed an "oh" as you studied the male standing around by himself, his catcher's mask raised on the top of his head. He looked ready for the game to begin as far as you could see, his heavy eyes bore into nothing as he leaned against a pole.
The boy was so mysterious and you knew nothing about him.
Nothing except that he was an extraordinary baseball player and his name was-
"Nassor!" Another player yelled, tossing the guy you've been eyeing, a bat.
Nassor...
You smiled to yourself. It was so hard for you to even think about that name as it sent your heart down a palpitating war zone of no return.
Suddenly, the strange girl spoke up to you again, knocking you out of your drooling daydream.
"Mister Whiskers had a dream about you last night, (Y/N)," she uttered, a tiny smile forming on her pink lips. The cat she called "Mister Whiskers" meowed up at you as he continued to stare deeply into your soul.
"Oh, really...?" You ask, furrowing your brows. You weren't really sure how to respond or if you should even continue to talk to her.
"Uh-huh," she nodded once and proceeded to take out a piece of what looked like paper towel, unrolling it to reveal a (the first letter of your first name)-shaped piece of cat excrement.
You looked completely grossed out and disgusted when she showed this to you and you leaned back, scooting away some.
"What the heck-,"
"It's an omen," she muttered, interrupting you. "Mister Whiskers here can tell the future and this is how I know..."
You kept the same almost terrified glare as you waited for her to continue, watching her put the "omen" back where she carried it from.
"When he dreams about you, big things happen," she continued. "I'm here to deliver the message..."
The girl frowned in slight jealousy and lifted her fluffy cat above her head and shook him around gently, the cat purring.
"When will you dream about me too, Mister Whiskers? I have been so patient with you," she sighed in disappointment at her psychic feline.
~~~~~~~~~~
The encounter made you very uneasy but it was worth staying after school to watch such a great baseball game.
And to your great satisfaction, Nassor's team won...again.
You couldn't help but smile wide as your arms hugged your book and binder. You were the only student besides the girl with the cat left on the bleachers, watching the team wallow in their victory. Everyone but Nassor looked happy and it always brought you concern as to why he looked so miserable and maybe even angry all the time.
You could tell baseball mean't so much to him and his heart really went into the game. Without him, the team would be lost and they knew it too.
Just then, the unthinkable began to occur.
Not only did he look your way just now, but he pushed himself off of that same pole he was leaning on before the game and started to make his way in your direction.
Your eyes widened at the growing intensity of the situation. You slowly looked behind yourself to make sure he wasn't aiming for another person and you clutched your belongings even tighter, your stomach doing flip-flops. As soon as you turned back around, he was standing there, right in front of you.
The catcher, who was now unmasked, had his backpack slung over his shoulder and was gawking at you with his big, round eyes. Just staring silently, wondering how long it would take to run you off.
You were unable to move an inch, your eyes staying gaped open along with your mouth. You looked as though he was about to murder you in cold blood.
And another thought that came across your mind was...
‘How the hell did he get close to you so quickly...? He was all the way across the field when you had your head turned and now here he was...’
Quietly judging you for being that weirdo who was the only one left on the bleachers while everyone else was desperate to go home.
[Well, sure, that blonde-headed girl was here too, but she was just strange and no one dared to question her behavior...]
You swallowed deeply and took a refreshing gulp of air, only now realizing you hadn't been breathing at all. The anxiety pains were beginning to make you crumble on the inside, causing you to find your mobility and stand.
As you stood up, you really saw how much taller he was compared to you and it was absolutely ensorcelling. He looked so charming in his striped baseball uniform and you took notice at his arms that were still sleeved. You found it so strikingly fascinating that he was the only one on his team that chose to do so.
The Egyptian towered over you, his broad shoulders straight and he continued to subdue you with his glowering stare. You wanted to run and hide as fast as possible, or even disappear and pretend like this never happened.
'Oh god, why, why did I decide to stay after the game?!' You screamed at yourself within your own mind. 'I knew I should have left as soon as it was over, I look so suspicious! I-,'
"What awh you doing here...?" The boy known as Nassor asked, putting his fists on his hips. His accent dragged through his teeth and licked against your ears like the decadent tune of an early morning Willow Warbler.
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked into his eyes, your forehead growing sticky from your nerves and the humidity of the outdoors. It took a moment of staring dumbly at him to respond, unable to fathom he had actually came to talk to you.
"I-I...I thought I'd stay after and...watch whatever it is you guys do ensuing a game...," you explained, clearing your throat and taking a small step away from him. You continued to clutch your belongings in your arms to comfort yourself.
When Nassor didn't reply and continued to gloom over at you skeptically, you felt positively nonsensical.
He was known for being a huge skeptic in school and he was the most stubborn, complicated person to convince anything to. Those traits did not make your life easier.
Nassor stepped forward a moment after you took a step back to regain his spot close to you. Your neck was starting to ache from peering up at him in an almost ninety-degree angle and you tormented your brain to think up something else to tell him before he made any accusations.
'Be brave, (Y/N)', you told yourself before licking your dry lips and speaking up to the guy you admired for some unforeseen reason.
"Truth is...," you began. "I just wanted to see what you did after a game."
Your cheeks began to flush a warm, rosy color and your heart throbbed sickishly upon admitting that to the Nassor; a star athlete at your school that seemed to have zero interest in anyone but himself.
"And I wanted to congratulate you on another victory. But I never had the courage to come up to you," you said, finishing your explanation with a tight jaw and cottony mouth.
It took a stretch of a moment before Nassor's brows rose slowly above his peering eyes, giving you a rather flattered expression.
"I have been stheeing you linger here after every game," he admitted. "I figured today was the day for me to figure out who you were and why you sthtuck around."
Oh gosh, You couldn't believe it! He noticed you there every time! You were a tad embarrassed but excited all at once. His lisp was so precious and unbelievably attractive to you, you had never gotten the pleasure to hear him up close and personally.
"Thank you for the support, uh. What isth your name...?" He furrowed his brows, almost looking ashamed for not knowing his fan's name.
Your eyes lit up like magic and a gentle, friendly smile formed on your lips at his shockingly accepting attitude.
"M-my name is (Y/N)!" You instinctively held your shaking hand out to him politely. "No need to thank me, Nassor. It's a joy for me to finally send you good graces on a game day."
His named rolled off of your tongue like velvet and your mind was buzzing happily with the reality that you were actually having a conversation with him.
He looked down at your hand before taking it in his strong grasp, moving your arm up and down forcefully. It looked like it was a painful handshake, but it was very satisfying and it made you feel...safe.
You smiled even more and held your things against you tightly once again after he broke hand contact with you.
"Thatsth a nice name," he muttered. He still didn't smile at you or give any indication that he was going to. He looked like he was bored out of his mind talking to you and was trying to find a way to get going. Yet, despite his facial expression, he continued to talk to you.
"I appreciate my fans when I get them, but Toshiaki always seemsth to get all the glory. As would a star pitcher," he sniffed and stuck his nose in the air. He sounded jealous which was very odd to you, but so interesting nonetheless.
You stared up at him before stumbling backwards and plopping back down on the bleacher bench. Your legs had grown weak from psyching yourself out.
"Well, I think you deserve all the glory...," you said, setting your book and binder down beside you that were beginning to make your arms sore. "You're the team's backbone, Nassor. You deserve a hell of a lot more than what you seem to get."
You had no idea where the confidence for such a pep talk came from, but you liked it and you didn't want to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You mean't every word and you hoped he believed it.
Nassor once again gave you a flattered look, his eyes glinting in a grateful manner.
"I really don't know what to sthay," he declared, raising an arm up to itch the back of his head as he slumped over even more than he already was.
His gaze moved to concentrate on the ground in between the two of you. His eyes were down for a solid minute as you continued to give him your undivided attention while he showed to be thinking of more things to say. When they suddenly moved up again to look at you, you froze once more.
Your breath caught in your throat and you waited for him to do or say something else.
Anything...
"Sthorry, I'm not good at thisth sort of thing," he said, clearing his throat and continuing what he wanted to say. "Expressthing myself, I mean."
"I-it's okay! Don't be sorry!" You exclaimed, waving your hands in front of yourself assuringly. "There's no need to apologize, you don't have to say a word. I just wanted you to know how I felt..."
You puffed your cheeks out, blowing them up with air after saying that and your eyes flickered back and forth.
'Oh gosh,' you thought. 'It must be getting late, I need to start heading towards home.'
With that, you quickly grabbed up your belongings and stood up straight and tall, giving Nassor an apologetic look.
Ugh, you wish you didn't have a set time to be home...
"I'm so sorry, Nassor...but I have to get going. It's getting a little late," you bit your lip, feeling a tad foolish.
Nassor stopped looking like he was in deep thought for a moment to nod at you slowly and furrow his brows in what seemed to be...disappointment?
Hah, in your dreams...
To your surprise, once he understood you had a curfew, he took your wrist in his large hand and began to lead you down off of the bleachers. He continued on across the baseball field toward the school that was just across the street and stopped, looking at you and awaiting for the directions to your house.
"Uh-," you began and looked around, wondering what to do.
You noticed Nassor's teammates from across the field eyeing you two like poachers ready to shoot arrows. You saw them mumble to each other and question where the hell Nassor was going on their victory day and it made you squirm with apprehension.
Observing that his gossiping teammates were the reason you were distracted, he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger to turn your head ever so slightly to look back at him. You blinked and your lips parted in a stupefied aspect, feeling his cold finger tips pressed against your skin.
"Don't look at them," he instructed in a rasping tone of voice. "Just focus on me. I would like to know in which direction your house isth." He sounded commanding, letting go of your chin once he finished speaking.
Nassor crossed his arms and waited for you to give your reply, his eyes boring down into you like he wanted to rip your throat out.
"It's....it's that way," you pointed. You tried to keep your voice from shaking and your lungs from losing air so rapidly when speaking to him. "But you don't have to take me there, really, I don't want to keep you from your team."
"Did you see me talking to them or even hang around them at all after the game?" He asked, raising one of his thick brows.
You slowly scrunched up your shoulders and shook your head no. Without another word, he proceeded to escort you to your house, getting your address out of you quite easily.
Damn, he was persuasive.
Your chest was tight as you walked with him, his manly hand still locked on your wrist. The minutes dragged by like hours as the afternoon sun got lower and lower. The sounds of both of your footsteps along the sidewalk was all that could be heard and your heart thumped louder and louder the closer you got to your house.
Your eyes landed back on Nassor focusing on the numbers on each mailbox, murmuring to himself to find the number you gave him. You kept wondering what his drive was to be taking you home but you didn't want to provoke him in any way.
It was only a matter of time before he was walking you up your driveway, his backpack still slung loosely over his shoulder. You grew increasingly filled with trepidation, not wanting your siblings (if you have any) or your parents to catch you walking and talking with a boy.
You didn't want to be rude to him either. This was a very kind gesture by the person you marveled at. Sweat trickled down the sides of your temples by the time you both reached the door but your eyes caught a note taped to the front of it.
"Huh, did they leave this?" You asked, thinking out loud and pulling the tape off of the door window.
Nassor stood there silently, watching your every move while you muttered and read the note to yourself as fast as you could.
Relief filled your body and you felt like floating once you finished reading it. Sighing deeply, you pressed the note to your chest and looked up at Nassor sheepishly.
"No one's home. They went to a movie," you said, giving Nassor a bolster grin.
"I see," he replied, giving his head a nod. "I sthuppose I should be on my way."
The Tall boy turned to leave but you hurriedly grabbed onto his sweater sleeve, gripping it in your nimble fingers.
"Wait...you can come in if you want?" You told him, languidly letting go of his sleeve. "You look tired from the game and I can whip up some quick lemonade for you. It's the least I can do since you walked me all the way here and you had a great game...."
Nassor maintained his gaze down at you like he didn't understand a word you were saying until he finally nodded and turned himself back around to face you. You couldn't help but feel giddy as you dug around in your pocket for your key and opened the door for him.
"You go on inside Nassor, I'm going to go check the mailbox," you mentioned, starting off back down the driveway.
Before you could though, Nassor listlessly grabbed you by your waist and his mouth twitched like he was threatening to smile at you. He pressed your curvy form into himself before letting out a broad exhale, just holding onto you.
Your face rose into a bright crimson color like a thermometer, burying it into the front of Nassor's uniform shirt. He had an earthy smell from the game but the scent underneath his uniform smelled something along the line of spices, such as cinnamon. Before you could put your finger on it, he tore away from you as quick as he pulled you in and stood up straight. He grabbed your book and binder from you that you still clung to and turned, letting himself into your house.
You shook yourself out of the dizzy spell he put you in and started off toward the mailbox, eager to get back. Your whole body felt weak as you wrapped your arms around yourself, replaying the embrace that just happened, over and over again in your imagination.
Just as you reached it, you noticed that strange blonde-headed girl standing across the street, holding that weird, fluffy cat of hers. She was stroking it just as creepily as she did when she sat beside you earlier before the game.
You watched her stare at you with those disco ball eyes, wondering why she was there and if she followed you two.
Her pink lips were curved in a small smile, hinting at you.
"Big things happen....," you said to yourself, narrowing your eyes as you surveyed her.
Your eyes widened once you figured it out and watched as she nonchalantly walked away, petting her Cat.
~The End~