Meeting Mr. Mundy (Sniper x reader Fanfiction)

Chapter 11: Close Call

"I threw that baseball." You began, hand on your chest for emphasis. "We were trying to get your attention and you wouldn't stop.."

"Why the fuck would you do that??" The boy asked desperately, a frown etched on his tan features that closely resembled deep worry over anger.

"I don't know man, it was the only thing I could think about!" You yelled, growing more anxious by the second. This was not going as you'd planned, and the current situation was beginning to stress you out quickly.

Mick began to slowly get up beside you, still catching his breath on all fours on the ground. You offered your hand in help, and he complied, grasping your hand as securely as he could without hurting you.

Helping him to a full stand, you kept your grip on his strong hand, a silent question showing on your frowning features as you looked up at him.

Are you alright?

Mick nodded in response, giving a small smile.

The young man took this moment of distraction to take a small step back, inching closer to his dull, red truck.

You noticed the sudden silence from the boy and took a quick glance in his direction, trying to think of a way to convince the young man to help you and Mick.

The scene made you do a double take, realizing the boy was beginning to dash for his truck, the intention of leaving you both behind clear as the night skies with each stomp of his tacky cowboy boots.

You bolted toward the young man, ignoring Mick's "Wait!!" behind you as you once again did the first thing that came to mind in this moment of desperation.

Tripping briefly over his feet and grabbing his brown stetson, the boy almost threw himself inside the driver's seat of his red pickup truck, slamming the door shut and desperately trying to start up his old vehicle, which should really not start acting up now of all times.

You pulled on his door's handle, banging your fist desperately on its small window. "Please! We've been here for days and we need your help!".

The boy stared in horror, trying uselessly to start up his truck once again. Slamming a fist against the wheel in frustration, the boy had a sudden idea and ducked beneath his seat for a moment.

When the boy bent down on his seat, a long, furry muzzle and a wet nose met your quizzical face in his place. The shepherd dog tilted it's head to the side in confusion, before it gave a loud bark, muffled by the truck's door, it's tongue hanging from the side of it's mouth and scruffy tail wagging happily against the opposite door's window.

You cooed at the curious canine and soon enough, the truck's engine purred to life, and you figured he'd cut and reconnected a few wires from under the wheel to start up the truck, just like in action movies.

Realizing what was about to happen, you used the last idea that came to mind and ran towards the front of the pick up, leaning over its hood, arms outstretched as far as they could as if it would help you stop the young man from leaving.

"Let us explain, please! Only five minutes, I promise.."

The boy frowned, equal parts angry and confused, and his dog barked again cheerily, a strong contrast between both of their expressions. Mick then decided to step in.

"Okay, sheila, that's enough.."

You felt a pair of lean yet strong arms hug your waist securely behind your back and your heart drummed in anticipation, as Mick lifted you up and off the truck's hood, as the cowboy stared unsurely.