William Nylander - #29 Toronto Maple Leafs

1.5K 19 1
                                    

Hey everybody! This is my brother's favorite "young, really good hockey player" that he was telling me about earlier so I decided to make one of these about him.

Hope you enjoy! 2000+ words!

-----

I've known that I love him for so long. He doesn't know that, obviously, but he's my best friend. Yes, best friends love each other. We would do anything for each other. Well, at least I would do anything for him. Recently, I'm not so sure about Will anymore.

He is always so busy with hockey and the season with the Leafs. He is only about a month into the season so I get why he isn't available that often. I get that that's his job. I really do. But, I feel like we just never talk anymore. Best friends are supposed to talk to each other right? That's not something weird, is it?

No, it can't be. I mean, how else could people become best friends if they didn't talk.

My phone buzzes and makes that ding for a text message, that I now find so annoying.

From Will <3

Hey, are you free around noon?

To Will <3

Yeah, why?

From Will <3

Do you want to grab some lunch?

To Will <3

Sure, what were you thinking?

From Will <3

I was thinking that bistro we used to go to all the time. Does that work?

To Will <3

Yeah that sounds great. See you there at noon!

Message Read

"Humpf," I exhale after I lock my phone, setting it down on my jean clad lap. "Oh my," I say looking around my apartment. To be honest, I love my apartment. It is small, a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but perfect for just me. The walls are a light grey and I put little decorations that represent me throughout the entire apartment. I look at my clock hanging off of the living room wall and check the time. I bite my lip when I see that it's already a little past 11. "Shit..." I whisper under my breath.

Jumping off of my couch, I walk into my room and open up my dark brown, wood dresser. My hand scans over all of my shirts as I settle on an old shirsey of Will's from when he played in middle school for his club team when his dad was playing for the New York Rangers. I pull off my over-sized sweatshirt and throw on Will's old shirsey. "Good," I nod in approval at my outfit, seeing it through my mirror in my bedroom. I grab my watch, wallet, keys and winter coat and head out into the cold.

I lock my door and rush to my parking garage, getting into my car. I turn on my music, my favorite playlist always has to be playing when I drive, that way I can focus on driving rather than the quiet of my car. Anyways, I drive to the bistro, which is about a half hour from my apartment. It's only about ten minutes from Will's place, a little unfair in my opinion, but it has amazing food.

I pull up to the bistro and park across the street because they don't have a parking garage and their side is always filled with cars since there is a high school close by. They use this street as overflow parking. Stupid teenagers getting in the way of my food.

I look back and forth before I cross the street and look for Will's car. I spot it out of the corner of my eye and smile, knowing that in a few moments I will get to see my best friend again. Walking into the bistro, I look around for Will's blonde mop of hair, which he is always messing with. The hostess asks me if I have a reservation. "I'm not sure. I'm actually here to meet a friend of mine but I can't seem to find him," I respond, still looking, but unable to find Will.

NHL ImaginesWhere stories live. Discover now