NHL Imagines

Patrick Sharp

Y/N P.O.V

Puff Puff

2.5 km. That's all it was. Common Y/N, you can do it.

My lungs, clinging on to their last thread, we're going to collapse any minute. But I was determined to finish this run. One of my new years resolutions, we're to start running. I had only realized how out of shape I was in November, in gym class, when we were scheduled to do the Beep test.

Good lord, I thought I was going to die. I only made it to level 5, before I couldn't breathe anymore, and stopped running. It was pathetic. I think I was at least the third to stop running. Everybody else seemed to be at ease. I mean, I was fairly thin, and yet I couldn't keep up a simple jog.

No. No way, Y/N. You are not stopping.

I urged my legs to keep going. My eyes squinted shut once every while, huffing and puffing at the burning sensation overcrowding my lungs. The song "Empire State of Mind" was filling both my ears. Trying to focus my attention on the song, and not the 3 minutes I still had left, I turned the block and kept going.

In my view, I could see a Starbucks at the end of the street. I guess I could stop there. Hell, I deserved it.

When I finally made it, It took a few minutes to regain my composure. My hands were resting on my knees, my whole back bent over.

"Uhm, excuse me? Are you okay?" A small faint voice said. I looked up to see a petite girl, maybe around my age? A little younger. She looked to be around, 16. Her curly bangs covered the black glasses she was wearing. A large, knit sweater hugged her body warmly.

I couldn't blame her. It wasn't exactly the hottest on an April in Chicago. Even I wasn't wearing shorts or a tank top for my jog. I had sweatpants, along with my Adidas sweater. It was cold.

"Yeah," I struggled with my words, as more huffs and puffs of air came from my mouth. "But I think I dropped a lung, about 2 blocks back. Mind getting it for me?"

A laugh escaped her lips. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Ah, jogging, eh? It'll get easier, don't worry." And with that, she patted my back, and left.

After catching my breath, I made my way into Starbucks. The warm, fruity aroma lifted my senses.

Mmmmm

Starbucks was the place you went after heaven.

I got in line, and looked at the menu. What did I want to get? Something warm, definitely. Weird, you'd think after a jog like that, I'd be dying for something cold and refreshing to quench my thirst, but nope. I wanted something hot.

After debating different drinks, I came to the conclusion of getting a caramel macchiato. The barrista at the counter quickly took down my order, and started making it.

I drummed my fingers along the metal platform, humming to Empire State of Mind. I loved that song.

When the barrista brought the drink to me, I paid and politely thanked her. As I went to turn around, not realizing there was a guy behind me, I bumped into him, making me spill my coffee all over me.

The hot drink made me gasp in pain, as it burned my skin slightly.

"Oh my god, are you okay? I'm so sorry!" The guy started shouting apologies at me, grabbing napkins at the same time to wipe the coffee off my shirt.

When the pain sub-sided, a small laugh escaped my lips. "It's okay. Don't worry--" I trailed off, suddenly realizing who I was in the presence of this exact moment.

No. It couldn't be. Could it?

The Patrick Sharp.

Now, everybody in the store was staring at the 2 of us. "Uhm, it's alright. I--uhh, I'm gonna need to wash my shirt, so--uh, there's no use in trying to clean it." I stumbled over my words, and a light pink shade rushed over my cheeks.

Way to be smooth, Y/N.

"At least let me buy you another drink. I feel terrible." He offered.

"Oh, you don't have to." I waved my hand off.

"No I want to." He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket, and took out a crisp 10 dollar bill.

When my drink came in, he got one for himself as well. "Here." He placed the hot cup in my hand, and ushered me to follow him.

We sat at a booth, and I almost let my inner fan girl out. But I didn't want to cause a scene in Starbucks. I'm sure he wouldn't have liked that either.

"By the way, I'm a huge fan. I love the a Chicago Blackhawks. They're my favorite team."

He chuckled. "Oh, good. I actually thought you didn't know who I was for a second."

"Oh, I know who you are. I just didn't want to cause anything."

"Ah," He nodded, as he took a sip of his coffee. "Well, are you gonna come see the game tonight against the L.A Kings?"

My face immediately dropped. "Unfortunately, no. I've been trying to get tickets, but it was sold out."

"I think that can be arranged."

His choice of words confused me. What did he mean by that? I averted my gaze to the wallet he pulled out of his pocket, once again. When he opened his wallet, he pulled out 2 tickets to the Blackhawks-Kings game tonight.

No way.

My eyes widened. He set the tickets in front of me. "They're all your's." He smiled.

I shook my head in amazement. "What? Are you serious?"

"I'm very serious."

"Are you sure? I don't want to feel greedy just taking it from you.."

He just shook his head and pushed the tickets further towards me. "No no no. Please, I'm giving them go you. Take them."

I picked up the tickets and stared at them in shock. "Wow, thank you so much."

I can't believe it. I always dreamed of going to a Blackhawks game. And now it's actually coming true.

"Serious question though." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Shoot."

"Why do you carry tickets around in your wallet?" I couldn't help but smile at the question I just asked him.

With no hesitation, he replied, "In the hopes of meeting a beautiful girl like you to give them to."

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A/N Am I the only one that loves the ending.. ? :') Hurr Hurr..