NHL Imagines

Ryan Johansen

Please read the A/N at the end of the Imagine. Thank you guys! Xoxo, S

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Requested.

Y/N P.O.V

         I took the lasagna out of the oven, silently cursing under my breath as the scorching air hit my face. Squinting my eyes, I shut the oven with my knee and placed the meal on the counter, fanning my hand up and down to cool it off. Today was a pretty important day, most would say. My parents would be meeting Ryan. My mother was way too over-excited, to say the least. She practically jumped ten feet into the air when I told her the news. She gushed like a twelve year old talking about her first crush to her friends. My dad, however, wasn't exactly the happiest camper. Not that I was complaining. I guess he was just taking the role of an over-protective father, just like he should. As long as he gave Ryan a chance, that's all I was asking for.

Ryan was scheduled to come around for 6:30 p.m. It was currently 5:30. I had an hour to shower, get dressed and pray the night ends with the food in our stomachs and not thrown around the room.

I grabbed some aluminum foil from the lowest drawer and wrapped up the lasagna, making sure it stayed warm until we were ready to eat.

"Hey, sweetie," My mother greeted, kissing me on the cheek as she placed her coat behind the kitchen chair.

"Oh, hey Mom. I didn't even hear you come in."

"Big shock there. You're always day-dreaming."

I scoffed. "I am not."

"Honey,"

"Mom, do you mind seasoning the potatoes for me?"

"Honey..."

"Am I forgetting something? I have to be."

"Y/N!" My mother practically yelled. I looked up.

"The vegetables are burning."

"Shit." I quickly turned off the stove, opened it and grabbed the handle of the pot, carelessly forgetting to use a mitt. I cried out, the searing pain of heat burning a red mark into my skin. The pot clattered onto the counter, small remnants of cauliflower and carrots flying out onto the floor. My hand was still buzzing, and I clutched my wrist. That would surely form some sort of bubble tomorrow. My head slowly rotated to look at my Mother, who was giving me an 'I-Told-You-So' look.

"Well," I shrugged, "No one eats vegetables anyways, right?"

She shook her head in utter disappointment and got up off the chair she was sitting on. Nodding towards the stairs, she said, "Go bandage your hand, I'll clean this mess up."

    Silently thanking her, I ran to the upstairs bathroom and snatched a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet. Wrapping my hand up quickly, I ran down the stairs just as the doorbell rang. I gasped, covering my mouth with both hands. "Oh my god! He's early!" I tried yelling, but it just came out muffled due to my mouth being covered.

"Y/N, will you answer the door, please?"

I hesitated between letting my mom answer it, or opening the door looking a complete mess. Well, this wasn't exactly how I wanted to look; my hand was wrapped in gauze, sweat was beading down my forehead and my clothes had traces of vegetables covering the front of it. Perfect, I thought.

Sulking towards the door, I did one last check in the entrance mirror, trying to make myself seem half-presentable. I matted down the top of my now disheveled hair with my gauze - wrapped hand and sighed, opening the door. Standing in front of me was a glowing Ryan. His hair was slicked back, he was wearing a black Polo that accentuated his figure and both his hands were tucked into the pockets of his blue dark wash jeans. I half-smiled at him, "You look very handsome," I said, raising my eyebrows.