Unnatural Touch | Sean Diaz x Reader *Discontinued*

Chapter 1

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Sean

Sean is only searching for the frequency of the pistol. All the chatter and cheering is nothing but an absence of noise with such enthusiastic movements at the corner of his eyes. His dad, Esteban, sits with his chest high. His little brother, Daniel, mouth gapes open at the intense minute like he does with his video games. His friends leans forward, their eyes open and focus. They all sit in the crowd at what seems like a mosh pit at a Misty Mice concert, but it is a track and field championship meet.

Puck! the pistol fires.

Sean's legs jolts forward and his arms swing by his sides, giving him the supplementary push to enhance his speed. A 200-meter dash is now a third of the distance, for the runners' speed is as fast as lions hunting their preys.

"C'mon, son!" Esteban cheers. "Push!"

"Let's go, Sean!" Daniel follows.

Sean, feeling like he has already giving it all, reaches farther and faster for the finish line. Pretend the end of the world is edging behind you, he thinks. Pretend the end of the world is edging behind you!

Seeing the familiar German kid who he always have serious competition with, Sean races with him to the white line. All the focus and eyes are on them.

"Run faster!" the crowd yells.

The end of the world is edging behind you.

"Go! Go!" the mosh pit screams.

It's edging near.

"Run!" the crowd yells.

It's close at your heels.

"Let's go, Sean Diaz!"

The end of the world is edging behind me! Fucking go! Sean's feet crosses the white line, and his body releases a tension with a big sigh. The crowd cheers, following with the rest of the runners crossing the line. A satisfied smile spreads on Sean's face with exhausted sighs flowing out between his lips. He have cross first. "Shit, I bet I look like a tomato right now," Sean pants. No cameras are allowed..., he says in his conscious.

"Yo," Sean hears above him. It's the German kid who is also panting continuously like Sean. His structured diamond face is also as red as a tomato—but maybe redder, and sweats rolls down from his chocolate hair. He runs his hand through his medium-length locks. "Name's Abraham." He hold out his other hand, which Sean shakes and also introduces himself. "You were crazy out there, bro. You fucking ran—flew!"

Sean laughs nervously and almost proudly. "Thanks, man. You were great too." He feels a light migraine, and something flashes in his brain. It tries to make something out but fails. Whoa, he thinks. I ran too fucking hard. I hate this feeling. He rubs his temple and adjusts his posture.

"Any tips for winning the next's championship?" Abraham asks.

Sean gives him lines of 'uh' before saying, "Think something horrible is trailing right before your feet," he effortlessly taunts. "Like clowns or... sharks."

Abraham gives him a friendly laugh. "What?"

"Sean Diaz!" Coach Aaron yells from afar. His hand signals Sean to the trophy with a big grin. His other hand forms a big thumbs up. Sean nods in acknowledgement to Coach Aaron and gives him a thumbs up back. Sean and Abraham says their goodbyes, and Sean proudly jogs to Coach Aaron, where his family and friends are there standing with his teammates.