out of left field ? p.js | ?

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.

You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.

"Are you stupid?" You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.

Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren't even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You'd been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn't gone to any of Jisung's games before, so this was the first time you'd seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn't a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.

Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.

Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, "That was really cool, Jisung."

He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. "Ah, I mean, it wasn't a real pitch or anything—"

"Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?" You requested sweetly. "I'm very into baseball these days."

"Uhm, y-yeah," he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. "Here, that should be the right size."

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

"Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?" He asked.

You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.

"Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this." He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.

Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.

"Feel how it's different than what you were doing?" He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.

But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer's manual for all you cared.

"Mm, mhm," you agreed absentmindedly.

"Alright, I'm going to step back and let you throw your first pitch." He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.

You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.

Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.

"Wow! That was a really good first pitch!" He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. "So awesome..."

You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. "Thank you."

"I—You're welcome." He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

"Jisung!" Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. "Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed."

"Yeah!" Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.

Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.

"You can get your own phone," you scoffed, crossing your arms.

"I thought I might hurt Jisung's feelings if I told him to leave to his face," Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. "I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—"

"By ten months."

"—about Jisung."

You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn't be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. "What about him?"

"I know what you've been trying to do this whole time. You're not 'very into baseball,' you're into Jisung."

You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. "Don't you dare start pulling the 'my friends are off-limits' card now. You've never—"

"Hey, I like Jisung." He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. "If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he'd be like, the only one in S-tier."

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?"

"I'm genuinely trying to help you here, alright?"

"So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?"

"Not exactly..." Chenle sighed. "Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he's never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he's a goner. I don't get it."

It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, "Wait, did he even get this girl's name?"

"No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff," he answered. "Anyway, I'm just trying to warn you. You've got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head."

"Mm. Tough competition," you nodded with mock solemnity.

"I'm serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He's got it bad." As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle's entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. "But uh, you've totally got this. I'm rooting for you, lil sis."

"Right. Thanks... big bro," you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.