“Who are you.” You heard someone suddenly growl, their tone much too gruff and demanding for you to even consider it a question - rather a command.

The sheer shock of the intrusion almost made you fail to notice the iron pressed into your side, a hand steady on your shoulder (albeit scarily close to your neck), keeping you in place so you couldn’t swing round to face the mystery man even if you wanted to.

“T- the fuck?!” You blurted out, you’d only headed to the baseball court so late to clear your head. Nobody was here at this hour. Who was taking such offence to your arrival?

“Who are you.” He gruffly repeated, breathing down your neck, leaving no room for discussion.