MLB Imagines

Omar Infante (Kansas City Royals)

Omar & Amita

There you were. Front row during BP for the Royals Tigers game.

Your best friend got you the best seats possible but she got sick the day before, resulting in you being alone.

You watched in awe as Omar Infante and Alcides Escobar tossed the ball back and forth.

After a while, they were called back into the dugout for the National Anthem.

Omar scanned the crowd for a fan to give the ball to.

Once you realized what he was doing, you started screaming like mad.

His eyes landed on you and it totally took your breath away.

He walked over and handed you the ball. He grinned and turned around, jogging to the dugout.

Still in shock of what happened, you sat in your seat and rolled the ball around in your hands.

When Omar's turn to bat came around, you sat up in your seat and watched intently.

He swung at the first pitch, earning him an out of the park home run.

You jumped up and down, cheering for your favorite player.

As he touched home plate, he looked your way and winked which made you scream even louder.

When he got into the dugout, you saw him scribble something on a paper and hand it to the ball boy.

As the ball boy came to give the umpire more balls, he shoved a piece of paper into your hand and ran off.

You looked at the paper.

"Meet me at the gates of the clubhouse after the game."

Not believing what you saw, you read it a few times over.

After waiting anxiously for 3 hours, the game was finally over. The final score was 1-0 meaning Omar's homer won the game for the Royals.

You quickly made your way to the clubhouse gates as instructed. It was surprisingly empty, giving you an uneasy feeling.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, you started to think you'd been stood up.

"Omar?" You yelled down the long corridor.

No answer.

"Should a pretty lady like you be out here all by herself?" You heard someone say behind you.

Startled, you turned around to a massive silhouette. The lights were behind him so you couldn't see his face.

"Oh, I'm waiting for someone. He should be out here any second," you said politely.

"Maybe we should get acquainted while you wait," the figure said as he grabbed your wrist.

"Let me go, your hurting me," you squealed.

He reached up your shirt and started feeling around.

You started screaming and thrashing, hitting him everywhere you could.

Suddenly, his hand was out of your shirt and you were standing alone.

You looked beside you and saw a figure repeatedly slamming the culprits head on the pavement.

You backed away slowly as the man raised.

"You're fine, I'm not gonna hurt you. You don't have to worry."

The voice was familiar.

Omar.

"Omar?" You managed.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier. It's my fault this happened. I had an interview for the home run. They held me up and-"

You cut him off.

"It's fine. I'm just glad you got here when you did," you told him.

He stepped towards you and grabbed your wrist softly. It was still tender from when the man grabbed it, causing you to flinch.

Omar quickly dropped your hand nervously.

You leaned in and kissed him deeply.

He pulled away and smiled.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist.

"You got anywhere to be tonight?" He asked you.

You shook your head.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Amita," you responded.

"Well Amita, I know a great hotdog truck downtown. I hope you're not a vegetarian," he said as he walked you towards the parking lot.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and forgot all your troubles as you two made your way down the sidewalk.