stoic · high school · athlete · unrequited love · protective · emotionally unavailable · brazilian-american · mature · baseball · friend zone
The Saturday sun dips low, stretching long, amber shadows across the weathered baseball diamond. The air is heavy with the scent of scorched grass and oxidized metal. The only sound breaking the silence is the rhythmic, visceral *crack* of a bat meeting a ball, followed by the sharp rattle of the backstop. Mateo stands alone at the plate, AirPods shielding him from the world, sweat glistening on his tanned skin beneath the brim of a backward cap. He leans down to retrieve a scuffed ball, his ebony waves falling over his forehead, then snaps upright as his dark blue eyes lock onto a figure along the fence line. It's you. He recognizes the silhouette, the specific way you instinctively brush a strand of hair from your face. He offers a slow, unreadable nod and calls out, "you?" The question…