NHL Imagines

#74. Artemi Panarin: Chicago Blackhawks

The music kicks in, the same piece you had been doing for months on end. Your arms in front of you, as if you are a statue, no facial expression, nothing. Your cue hits and immediately you are set in motion. Up on your toes, arms rise above your head. Turn on the toe, arms frozen. You know the routine better then anything else, that is what is expected from a ballerina at this level.

The dance flies by, only you on the stage, the music flowing into you like the blood pumping through your veins. Your heart beating in sync with the rhythm. You flit across the stage, as you have been trained to do since age 4. After nearly 8 months on the road, you and your dance company has finally come home to Chicago to finish out the tour before a well deserved break.

The tour had come at a price. Your right ankle was breaking down slowly, and you would need months to heal. Even if the ankle did heal, coming back to Ballet at this level was a stretch. So you had decided it was time to take your final bow. You had been so many places, learned so many dances, met so many people, it was only fair that someone else be able to have their chance in the spotlight.

The final notes fade out, you have tears pricking the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. With one final turn, you finish arms flung wide, toes as always pointed. The applause that befall your ears are staggering and once you go limp from your pose you cover your mouth and let a sob out. You want to stay that way forever, out of breath and happy, with cheers surrounding you. It had been your dream for so long, but it was time to wake up and let others fall asleep.

The lights dim and you scurry off stage so the next dance can start. You swipe at the tears falling against your cheeks as you hurry to get to the other side of the stage for the last dance of the show. You watch from the wings as the rest of the dancers leap and twirl across the stage. You join them once your cue hits. Caught up in the craziness of it all. Then it ends, a rush of energy dulled to quiet as the scene ends slowly. The lights dim and there is a mad dash to get into line for the final bows of the tour.

You're the last one to take a bow and as you do the entire cast inches closer. There are tears falling steadily. You make your final curtsy before the cast swarms you. There is so much emotion coursing through you. Then it comes to a close. The curtains swing closed and you hug your fellow dancers, savoring it all. Then after the final speech is given to you by the lead director, you hurry off to your dressing room to let the rest of your pent up emotions out alone.

You close the door to your dressing you behind you quietly and look around. It's a small room, not more then 5 feet wide and 10 feet long, just big enough for a small plush chair in one corner near the door, and a makeup desk towards the back. You settle in the chair in front of the mirror, and stare at your reflection. Stray hairs are escaping the tight bun along the top of your head. You flatten them against your head and let your hand go, they pop up again and you sigh.

You place you chin in your hands, your elbows pressing into your knees. You stare yourself down in the mirror, looking at everything from your eyebrows, to the little wings on the end of the eye liner. The deep red lipstick and the plunging neckline of the dress. The soft knock at the door forces you to your feet. You limp, the pain in your ankle coming rush back as the adrenaline drains.

You grab the handle and swing open the door, expecting one of the costume collectors. Instead, on the other side of the door is your ex-boyfriend Artemi. (As in Breadboy).

"Panarin? What are you doing here?" You gasp out after staring at him for what seems like too short of a time. The two of you had split after about 6 months of dating amicably when you had left for the tour, making it easier then having to stay in a relationship with someone so far away for so long.

"I had to come see you perform" He replies in soft, yet more confident form of english then he had been using when you left. (I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW IF HIS ENGLISH IS STILL BROKEN OR NOt. CLOSE ARTEMI FOLLOWERS COME IN CLUTCH PLEASEEEEE) "You were a star out there (Y/N/N), could I uh, come in to talk for a little bit?"

"Oh yeah my bad" You hurriedly pull back to let him. He walks into the room looking around to see. "If you're thirsty I have some water. And please sit down." You gesture to the plush chair and he shakes his head with a small smile.

"Thank you, but I am fine really." He states, a nervous edge to his words. "I meant to bring flowers but I couldn't find your favorites and then I couldn't remember which ones made you sneeze." His sheepish expressions sets your heart on fire. The room goes quiet and you look down at your feet, curling your toes even more in your dance shoes.

"I missed you" His voice is low, and at first you think he didn't say anything at all. But when you dare to glance up he is staring at you intently. "At first I was determined to let myself think that you had found someone else on the road at that you were happy, but that made it worse. So then I tried to convince myself that I didn't care anymore but god I do care. When I saw that the final stop on the tour was back in Chicago I bought a ticket without thinking. I almost didn't come, Patty had to make me do it. When I saw you on that stage, it made my heart soar because we were in the same room, breathing practically the same air and maybe just maybe I would be able to talk to you again because I missed you so much it hurt to go to sleep at night knowing that I wasn't going to wake up with plans to see each other or with you next to me. If you don't want to be with me that's fine, but I needed to let you know this before you left on another tour without me even getting to say Hi." He comes to the end of the speech, practically hyperventilating.

"There was nobody else, there will never be anyone else. Every night I was dancing as if you were in the audience, that was what kept me going when my ankle started hurting, that every show was one more closer to Chicago and a chance to see you again. I know that we split so that we could be free for 8 months without having to worry about long distance, but that was such a stupid plan. There won't be any more tours, my ankle is slowing breaking more and more each time I put these shoes on. It's been a good run, but now I think it's time to settle down and stay where I need to be, here in Chicago, and hopefully with you next to me." The more you say, the stronger the words seem to grow. The two of you stare at each other for a long minute, no words, just an electric current in between the two of you. Then it sparks and he's moving.

He folds you into his arms and kisses you. You almost melt, the feeling of home hitting more then ever. It's long, and full of the 8 months spent apart. It ends too quickly and by the time it ends you are struggling to find enough air to breath. He places his forehead against yours and you smile.

"I love you" You murmur quietly once the air is fully in your lungs. 

"I love you too дорогой" He replies.

"Good. Now move, you're crushing my tutu"

AUTHORS NOTE

I AM NOT DEAD BUT I MIGHT BE SINCE I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG AND THIS IS PROBABLY HORRIBLE I'M SO SO SO SORRY. But I hope if my homework and schedule allow to have another update up every 1-3 days as a Holiday present. BUT NOT PROMISES. For the people who have requested I'm trying to get all your requests up but I have had no time with dance and school I am so sorry. Thank you all for over 111,000 reads, that number has made me smile when I needed it the most.

Requested by bellrose13 I am so sorry it took so long!

Unedited

~Emma