BLANK

DON'T Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

I pinned him against the bleachers, and I noticed with a small tinge of satisfaction that he winced. "Give. It. Back," I snarled, too low to be heard clearly, but still loud enough that he couldn't possibly have not heard me.

He laughed.

That son of a bitch laughed at me. I was practically laying on top of him, and I was vaguely aware of a couple folks shouting at us to "get a room." I could have corrected them, but I didn't feel like going to jail for attempted homicide.

Though at this rate it might very well be worth it; especially if I succeeded in actually killing him.

So I tried a different tactic. "If you give it back to me I promise I'll do you one favor. Anything you ask. Within reason," I added hastily. This kind of deal was dangerous of course, but I really did need it back. I'd probably regret it though.

I watched as he contemplated my offer.

In the background I heard the announcer declare that number four just hit a foul ball. Ouch. I think. I didn't know if it was the home team up to bat or the guests. Oh well, I had far more pressing matters to deal with than the baseball game.

Obviously he had become at least partially familiar with my nature, because he accepted the deal. "Okay," he said.

I planted my forearm on his chest and held my hand open. I cocked a brow at him as he dug it out of his pocket, but he didn't drop it in my hand like I'd've prefered. Instead he reached both his arms up and behind me and dropped it into the hood of my school hoodie.

He didn't stop there, oh no, he most certainly didn't. He placed his hands on my back and held me down on top of him. Despite of my best efforts to get the hell away, I couldn't budge.

"I'd like to call in that favor now," he muttered, sounding for all the world as relaxed as a cat on a bed. It stung my pride a bit, knowing that he didn't have to try all that hard to keep me restrained.

"Oh, you would, huh? What do you want?" I snapped at him.

"How do you like to do things?"

Huh? What the hell kind of question was that? "What the fucking hell are you talking about?" I had given up trying to get away by this point, so I settled for glaring at him. I figured if I glared hard enough, it might deter him from whatever nonsense he was getting up to.

In the background the announcer was declaring a bad pitch.

"Private or public?" He asked.

I froze and gaped at him. Had he just asked that? What was he getting at? "Who the fucking hell cares!?"

"Public then."

Then before I could even blink — let alone come up with another indignant question with a couple more impolite expletives — he moved.

He sat up, bringing me with him so I ended up sitting on his lap (and he still didn't let me go). Once again there were cat calls and cries to "get a room."

I said something very eloquent and creative, "Hey! What the fuck are you — !?"

I would have finished the sentence.

If he hadn't chosen that exact moment to kiss me. Christ, the whistles and catcalls... Fuck!

Well, I'll give the prick this much: as a kisser, he ain't half bad.

I shoved him away and jumped up as fast as I could. I scowled at him. "Satisfied, asshole?" I spat as I reached into my hoodie to grab the cool metal. Soon it was in my pocket and safe and sound from the clutches of evil sons of bitches.

He just continued to laugh at me. Asshole.

I snarled and growled under my breath as I walked away. I shook my head.

I swear...

The things I do for my Swiss Army knife... 

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I've had this one for a while, though to be honest I'd forgotten about it. Then I came across it, and I thought, Wattpad! So here it is! ☻

Till next time!

PS: Does anyone know where the picture up at the top was taken? Kudos to anyone who guesses! (Though honestly, it's not that hard to figure out.)