"Don't mess with us, or my girlfriend," he growled, stepping forward intimidatingly. "It's that easy."
He growled again and stepped forward before a set of small hands encircled his bicep. "Evan," Poppy said quietly, pulling him back. "Come on. He's not worth it."
Francis shot a look at Poppy, before turning back to Evan. "Better go," he said, his tone mocking. "Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone else yeah?"
He raised a fist to punch him, but Poppy pulled him back, surprisingly strong. "Get out of here, Francis," she said roughly, turning to look at him with startling grey eyes. Her gaze shifted to the crowd that had gathered around them. "All of you. Go home. There's nothing to see here." There were grumbles and complaints, but the crowd gradually dispersed.
Evan tried to step forward, but Poppy came out in front of him, her hands on his chest. She turned to look at Francis, a frown on her face and warning in her eyes. "Seriously, Francis. Go. If you don't want to be punched, you should go now."
Evan tried to follow him, but Poppy's hands were there. "Evan," she said soothingly. "Come on. He's not worth it." Evan looked down at her with a scowl on his face. "Why the hell did you let him walk off like that, Poppy?! That guy is an *squee!*!" His shouts echoed on the walls of the stadium. "If you were caught fighting at a school event, you'd be expelled," she said quietly. "Come on. Please?" His jaw tight, he turned away from her. "You're just like the rest of them," he muttered. Poppy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Evan, you're acting like a child." "Oh, I'm acting like a child?! Did you even see what he did back there?" "Yeah, he was a jerk. But you shouldn't punch him." "I shouldn't... Gah!" He threw his hands up in the air, and Poppy flinched instinctively. Evan noticed and sighed. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I'm not mad. I'm just... you know how to push my buttons sometimes. Okay? I'm not mad. I promise."
Francis left the stadium. The cold breeze hit him, and he shuddered. Obviously he disliked himself for the things he did, and often questioned why, but could never think of a straight answer. Instead, he decided to walk home in the dark, alone with himself.
Poppy pulled away from him, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "I'm going home, Evan," she said quietly. "I'll talk to you later." She turned and headed to the parking lot, her car beeping as she unlocked it. She slid into the front seat, started up the car, and drove off, her car purring under her fingers. She hesitated as she saw Francis' figure, debated inwardly and sighed. She rolled down the window, a small frown on her face. "Need a ride?"
He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, and sighed, though it was not an annoyed one. " If I wanted a ride, I could have gotten one, Miss Abernathy."
She shifted gears and drove off. "I'd feel badly if I just drove past you," she said. "Even though you are an ass. Whereabouts do you live?"
"Cool," she said, flipping on her turn signal as they approached a light. She turned down her music like she was unlocking a safe, careful and diligent. "So," she said eventually. "You really pissed off Evan."
"That's nice," he said, gazing out the window. "I'd be surprised if the prick throws a real punch one day."
