mlb imagines

Memories // Noah Syndergaard

Where my Thor Fans at????? This one is for you
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You were covered in dust when you heard Noah drop his keys in the bowl next to the front door. "(Y/N)? Where are you?" He asked.
"Bedroom!" You called, taking the box full of photos out from the closet. You sat on the bed, looking at the door when you saw it open. "Hey, how was practice?"
"Boring, just pitched all of today." He admitted, cheeks coloring. "What're you doing?"
You shrugged. "I had a sudden urge to clean the house, guess it's time for spring cleaning."
Noah looked at the calendar on his bedside table. "It's the middle of Janurary."
"Ok, post-holiday cleaning." You shrugged. "Same thing," You opened the box and took out a stack of photos. "But I found this box, and it's full of photos. I wanna look at them."
He joined you on the bed, and took out another stack of photos. The two of you shared many laughs as you looked at the photos, occasionally saying something saracastic about the other in the photo. "Wait, look at this one! You looked so dumb!" You teased, pointing to a photo of Noah as a kid and from what had to be Halloween. "You were a reindeer? For Halloween?"
"I was original!" He defended himself, laughing. "At least I didn't wear my costume until Valentine's Day!" He retorted, bringing up a memory you liked for forget about.
"Thought I said we weren't gonna bring that up anymore?" You smiled, standing up. "C'mon, there's a bunch more stuff in the spare room, I think my mom's been dropping stuff off each time she comes over." You said, walking down the hall.

"Jesus!" He backed away as you dropped the heavy box on the floor in the spare room. "What is all of this?" He asked, flipping open one of the weathered carboard flaps.
"A bunch of my old stuff, from when I was a kid. I think there's some of my old school projects in there, probably some newspaper clippings from important events, too."
Noah dug right in, taking out some stuffed animals and construction paper crafts. "Aw, babe, you knew you wanted to be an artist from such a young age!" He held up a colorful turkey, one you make when you trace your hand.
"Shut up!" You tore the paper from his hand, admiring your poor art skills from when you were younger. "What else in there?" You asked, setting the turkey to the side.
He then pulled out a picture frame made from foam pieces and glitter glue. "What's this?" He asked, looking at the photo. It was a photo of you and your brother.
You saw what he was looking at, and sighed. "I'm pretty sure there's like, three more of those in this box somewhere. My mom had all three of us make those for about five years straight. Eventually she gave up." You stood up, and pulled out another box you don't remember seeing before. "What's in here?" You asked, opening it up. "Aw, babe!" You held up one of Noah's old art projects. "Your mom left stuff here, too!"
"Oh my God." He laughed, momentarily forgetting about your box. "When do you think they left this stuff here?"
"Don't know. But I do know you were quite the creative writer, Syndergaard." You held up one of his old English journals, smiling when you saw the length of some of the entries. "Wow! You lost your first tooth on November 35th! Damn! When is the 35th, again?" You teased, giggling.
He rolled his eyes, and said something snarky back. The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon going through old stuff, cleaning forgotten.