Prompt: Write a story, poem, or drabble about your character going against popular opinion.

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We sat in the last row of the premium lower box seats, on the infield. He'd bought us some pop corn and a couple of sodas. Although outside food wasn't allowed inside the stadium, his backpack had hidden pockets on the bottom which stored our sandwiches. It also held the wool blanket that had sat in the backseat during the drive over.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I am, actually." He passed me a large and warm club sandwich, on a baget. It appeared as if it had come from a deli but something told me it was his handy work. "Did you make this?"

"Of course." I bit into it and couldn't help the sounds of enjoyment that spilled from me. When did I become such a noisy eater? "I take it my sandwiches aren't so bad."

"Is there anything you cook that doesn't taste like a slice of heaven?" I solicited, dubiously.

"Alice seems to think she bakes better than I do."

"Her dessert was pretty good, last night."

"Indeed, it was."

We ate in relative silence, watching the first inning of the Giants against the Arizona Diamondbacks and the sun descend from the sky. Seeing a live baseball game was definitely a different experience to one on television. Primarily, the lack of commercials made it a little less daunting to sit through. But also, witnessing the players work as a team, hustling, and giving it their all was much easier to appreciate when viewed in person.

"Are you curious as to why I chose to bring you here, tonight, instead of something more traditional for a second date?" he raised.

"I expected you'd fill me in at some point. Though, I do recall you mentioning something about it at dinner."

"Well, what I said then is a big part of it. I do enjoy the sport and I thought I could show you why. Hopefully you'll be able to find it fun, as well. I also figured that we couldn't talk at the movies, we could still eat dinner, and this is one of the things that people most enjoy about the city."

"All great reasons."

"I should add, in case you were wondering, that while popular opinion might claim suites to be the best seats in the house, I prefer sitting with the rest of the fans. It's great to be a part of a community of people participating in the same cause." I could easily understand what he meant. The energy from the crowd was palpable. It was almost more entertaining to watch them than the sport itself. He continued, "And front row seats don't allow you to see everything that's happening at once. Of course, being in the last row allows for a bit more privacy, as well – not to mention the overhang protection. "

He'd certainly put a great deal of thought into this. It wasn't as if he'd simply added me to his plans for the evening. He wanted me to enjoy the experience. "I'm glad you brought me. I wouldn't have guessed it but it's nice to be outdoors and amongst other people."

"I'm delighted you feel that way." He didn't seem the least bit comforted because he'd been confident in his decision from the start. There was a chance I'd actually have to put a bit more faith into his people reading abilities.

As darkness fell and the night grew colder, a thick mist started to roll over the bleachers and flow into the field. He pulled out the blanket and covered us both with it. Then he reached over and took my hand in his. It was simple but incredibly thoughtful. I found myself wanting to scoot closer to him and disappointed that there was an arm rest between us.

He explained the game to me so that I could understand what was happening. We laughed together when the crowd would boo, cheer, or get up and sing. We even participated in the wave. Before the seventh inning stretch, the players got a break and fans went to refresh their snacks or use the restroom. Our row and the ones just below us hadn't really been filled so when the few viewers parted, we were relatively alone.

"Was today better than yesterday?" Edward inquired.

"Hmm. I don't know yet. That's a hard one."

"But I thought you'd had a bad day." He seemed a bit puzzled. Did he really not know?

"I didn't have a bad night," I clarified.

"Oh." It sounded like he might have thought duh to himself. "My night was pretty fantastic, too."

"So, it might be kind of hard to top," I added.

"What would you say was the highlight? If I'm going to try to exceed it, I might need a benchmark."

"Well, it was all wonderful, really, but if I had to choose one thing in particular…"

"Yes," he pressed. He'd moved closer, perhaps to hear me better.

"It would have to be the end of the night," I finished.

"Mmm. I quite enjoyed that part, as well." At that moment, the nearest game watchers went up in a roar. I looked away from Edward and saw that we were on the big screen and the words "Kiss Cam" hovered above our image.

"Looks like we're on the monitor." I turned to face him.

"Well, we don't want to disappoint the fans, now do we?" Then, he leaned forward and placed one soft but fiery kiss upon my lips.