Mat Barzal Imagines

Caring Too Much

Warnings: Swearing/language, toxic relationship and hints of an abusive relationship

Word Count: 1.5k

For the first time in three years, you felt free.

You were at a bar on Long Island with two of your friends after work, and you didn't have to worry about your ex-boyfriend, Dave, complaining about how you were never around anymore. You had started dating Dave in the middle of your first year at Fordham, and it was smooth sailing until graduation when you took a job as one of the writers for the New York Islanders website. He didn't like that you were going to have to commute from the city every day (less time for him, he said), and you didn't like that he was trying to control your life. Dave had never been controlling before; actually, he was very laid-back. But it was like a switch had been turned on after college, and you felt like you didn't know him anymore. Unsurprisingly, it only took two months at your new job before the relationship imploded.

You were glad that you had decided to rent your own apartment instead of moving into Dave's place; it was one less thing you had to worry about. You were now considering taking a loss on the lease and renting an apartment out on the Island because Dave had shown up last week and scared the shit out of you. You still didn't know why he had bothered standing outside your building to stare at you while you went inside, but you knew you did not want him to know where you lived anymore. 

Unfortunately, your friends all lived together in a tiny apartment and didn't have room, so you swallowed your pride at work the next day and asked the only person you trusted if you could move in with them: Mat Barzal. He was the star of the Islanders, so you were worried about crossing boundaries, but you were desperate. Luckily for you, Mat was also your age, so he was very understanding and more than happy to let you crash in his guest room while you scoured the newspapers and the Internet for a new apartment.

"Alright, it's time for a toast," one of your friends, Avery, said, snapping you back to reality. "Cheers to the single life and its newest devotee, (Y/N). We're glad you've joined the wild side."

"Amen to that," you chimed in, and you clinked glasses.

"Ooh, (Y/N), there's a guy checking you out," your other friend, Hannah, sang.

"No. I'm not ready to be with someone else," was your immediate reply.

"Fine, if you don't shoot your shot, I'm going to go talk to him."

"Be my guest," you said, and Hannah could tell that you were telling the truth because she left the table and went up to the guy without a second glance.

Avery shot you a pitying glance. "Are you sure you're not ready to get back in the game? It's been almost a month since you broke up with that douchebag."

"Positive," you replied.

It took only five minutes for another guy to approach the table and convince Avery to dance with him. You were now alone, sitting with two abandoned glasses of wine.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" You turned around and saw that the voice belonged to Mat.

"I was out with Avery and Hannah, but they're out dancing now. You?"

"I just came to get a beer before going home."

"Oh," you said.

The conversation died off until Mat held out his hand to you. "Do you want to dance?"