+BURST+ (Inanimate Insanity) (REWRITE)

~ Heard it Through the Grapevine ~

【ＬｏａｄｉｎｇＣｈａｐｔｅｒ．．．】
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I open the car door, reaching to the backseat and grabbing my baseball bat and backpack, and I feel the cold air brush past my cheeks. Trekking out into the field, the snow seems to have fallen in a less thick layer here, making it easy to get to the far edge. I glance at Nickel, who follows a little behind, stepping in the footprints I left behind to keep his shoes as snow-free as possible, "you said you were practicing pitching?"

"Yeah, but I brought the bat in case I wanted to do some ball hitting."

"Heh, ball hitting, classic."

I dust the snow off of a section of the bleachers with my glove, enough for my backpack and for Nickel to sit if he wanted, though I imagine it would be ice cold. I set my bat and the bag down, opening it and grabbing a few balls and my catching glove.

"Well I guess it might've been stupid of me to wear gloves, I have to take one off to wear the catching glove anyways."

"I'll hold it for you if you want," Nickel chimed in, "my hands are freezing anyways, better to have one warm and one cold than both cold, I guess."

"Thanks," I smile, handing it over. He pulls the glove onto his own hand, "we match now!"

Nickel shrugs, looking down at his feet, "I guess we do, Stitches."

I feel a small warmth grow over me, and I turn to head to the pitcher's plate, stretching out my throwing arm. Nickel slid his shoe in the snow for a moment, a devious idea popping into his head, "Hey, Baseball, check this out!"

"Hm?" I gaze back at him, as he shuffles his feet to make a circle in the snow, and then draws another circle connected to the first. He starts shuffling in a long straight line, and my pattern recognition kicks in, "Oh my god, Nickel, you're so immature..."

"Nuh-uh this is my masterpiece!" he smirks sarcastically, rounding the final turn, "You wouldn't know art if it hit you in the face!"

"And you wouldn't know maturity, Jeffs," I stance myself to throw one of the baseballs, giving it a solid pat in my hand, before letting it fly, the large chain link fence ringing on impact behind the buried home base, the leafless vines that grew through it rustling. I sigh, it wasn't my best throw but it's the first of the day, and I'm not super warmed up either. I throw a few more, getting more and more confident. After the 8th throw, I suddenly feel a soft thud on my back, whipping around to see Nickel scooping snow off the ground and trying to form it into a ball, "Oh, you picked the wrong fight!"

"Did I?" He laughs, lobbing another snowball at me, but his aim and stance was off. I gather snow into a ball, and hurl it with precision at him, hitting him square in the chest. The powder sprays up into his face, "Hey! Watch it!"

"Get a better aim!"

"Well shit, maybe I did pick the wrong fight, you literally throw shit for fun!" He laughs, brushing himself off, and an idea pops into my head. He didn't exactly protest to me inviting him out here, or me fixing his zipper, I wonder if...

"Let me teach you," I started walking towards him.

"What?"

"I can teach you a good way to stand, that way you can throw better. If you want?" I feel a clammy-ness in my gut, this feels right, feels normal, but what if someone saw us? Does this seem normal from the outside?

"I mean," Nickel looks off towards the car for a moment, holding his hands together, one gloved and one bare, "it wouldn't hurt."

I wordlessly approach, dropping the pitcher's glove and the baseballs I had from my hand except one. I cup the back of his gloved right hand and place it into his palm, forming his fingers around it, "Keep a firm grip on this, yeah?" He nodded, staring at me with a curious expression as I took a step back, "Put your hands like this, hold the ball with your right hand and have your left elbow out," I move my arms to show him, "and then have your feet like this, about shoulder width apart, and with your hips twisted towards your left foot." I observed him mimicking my body, but his hips didn't turn enough. I move towards him, gaze locked on his body, glancing up at his eyes for a moment. He blinked, looking down at my hands before I shakily placed them on his waist, thin despite being padded by his coat, turning him a little more, "Like that," I look back up at his face to make sure I haven't gone too far, and see that same wide eyed stare from earlier, though the cold has dusted his cheeks and nose with a bright red, "you good?" He nods again, a wavering smile to reassure me. I gently remove my hands, and bring them up to his shoulders, "when you throw, you swing your left elbow back, and thrust the right shoulder forward, whipping your arm like this," I hold his arm, it's much thinner than mine but I can tell there are underlying muscles, demonstrating the throw, "and you twist your hips, stepping forward with the back right foot to push more power into the ball." I let go of him, and take a few steps back, "Ok, try it now."