NHL Imagines

Sidney Crosby

Requested;

Y/N P.O.V

I held the purple top, which lay loosely from its hanger. Pushing it close to my chest, I examined myself in the mirror. I shook my head and sighed, frustratingly. Nothing is working! I keep trying to match something to wear tonight, but I can't! I'm going to punch the wall, literally. It's 3:30 p.m and I still don't have an appropriate outfit to wear.

Ugh, the struggle.

"Why do you take forever to choose something? You can go in a banana suit and he'd still look at you as if you were wearing a 2,000$ cocktail dress!"

Tonight was going to be my first date with Sidney. He had finally grew the courage to ask me after what seemed like 2 years, when in reality was only a few months. I still remember the day we met. The Penguins were hosting the Winter Classic Family Skate. Seeing as though my best friend is related to him, she invited me along. Not exactly sure of the outcome, I agreed. The fool I made of myself that day was beyond belief. I had never skated before, and I couldn't even count the amount of times I fell into Sid's arms. I guess you could say he was there at the right time? I honestly think it was God's way of saying "Really? Ice-Skating? Are you trying to break a leg?" Suffice to say, I probably left the rink looking like a blueberry. The bruises were so big, even if I wanted to cover them with makeup, there was no going around the fact that they killed. I couldn't even properly sit on my couch without looking like I needed to pee. I had to cross my legs, shift myself on one hip, whilst gripping the sofa arm, and slowly lean onto my butt.

As you can see, making a good "first impression" was crossed off my list way before I set foot on the ice. Now, hoping to leave that road behind, I'm going on my first, official date with Sidney Crosby.

"You don't understand," I whined. My best friend, Kayla, rolled her eyes and stared at me. "This date needs to be perfect!"

"Why does it have to be perfect? I think, all that matters is that you both have the time of your lives. It's supposed to be fun. What are you guys doing, anyways?" She questioned.

I threw my hands in the air, in annoyance. "I don't even know! That's the best part. So, I don't know what to wear."

She clasped her hands in her lap, and smiled so bright, I'm pretty sure my next door neighbors needed to wear sunglasses. "Awe! That's adorable! He's surprising you!"

I rolled my eyes and put the last pair of pants hung neatly in my closet. Placing my hands on my hips, I sighed in defeat. I looked over at Kayla, who then put a reassuring hand on my knee. "Alright, let's get you ready. I will be your "fashion stylist" for this evening." She said, holding her chin up proudly. I smirked, "My fashion stylist? You can barely dress yourself for school and you wanna help me out?"

Ouch. Maybe that was a bit hurtful? Luckily, Kayla gripped her chest where her heart lay, in a mocking manner. She gasped, and wiped under her eye sockets, pretending to clean a tear away. I silently laughed, and at that moment, I literally thanked God that Kayla wasn't a person to take many jokes to heart. She knew I was just playing around. I would never hurt her intentionally. "You know, just because I don't feel like dressing up everyday for college doesn't mean I won't dress up for a night out. And let me tell you, when I put my mind to something, I make sure to get it done properly." She said, wavering a finger in my direction, one hand on her hip.

"Alright, alright," I held my hands up in surrender. "I trust you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doorbell chimed, indicating that Sid was standing right behind my front doors, waiting. I nervously paced in my room, before making my way down the stairs. Kayla left about 15 minutes ago. Something about beating her brother in Rock Band? I don't know. She also said it was important.