NHL Imagines

Scott Harrington

Requested.

Y/N P.O.V

I woke up to loud thumping noises coming from below. I wiped the crud out of the corners of my eyes, and groaned. What the hell?! I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, only to realize it was 2:30 A.M. 2:30 A.M?! Who--or what--on earth was making those loud noises? I turned on my side to wake up Scott so he could check what the noise was all about. Instead, I found ruffled sheets and a vacant spot. My heart rate immediately picked up and I thought of the worst possible scenarios that could've been happening at this very moment..

What if there's an intruder and they have Scott! What if I'm too late?! What if there was an earthquake and Scott left running without me?! Okay, that one was a bit stupid..

Ugh. I hate what if's.

Mustering up the bit of courage I had left, I leaped out of bed and made my way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Wait! I need some type of weapon. I could be up against some tough guys. Looking around frantically, my eyes landed upon the whisk I was using yesterday while cooking. Quickly grabbing it, I frowned at my choice of weapon. It doesn't matter. I would go in there bare-handed for Scott.

The noises became louder as I tip-toed my way into the basement. The nape of my neck was drenched in sweat and my legs were shaking beneath me. When I reached the last step, I took a deep breath, and jumped out, ready to face whoever was there. My whisk was held out in front of me, as if I was holding a gun. But my eyes were only met with Scott, who was running on the treadmill. Sweat beeded down his forehead and when he saw me, he stopped running and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat.

"Hey, babe." He said, smiling and out of breath.

"Scott!" My hand flew to my heart, as I tried to steady my breathing. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing down here?"

"I'm working out. What does it look like I'm doing? By the way, why are you holding a whisk?"

"I thought you were an intruder, so I grabbed the nearest weapon."

He laughed, "And what were you gonna do? Whisk me to death?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "With the mood I'm in right now, I'm willing to do a lot of things with this whisk."

He gulped and cautiously took a few steps forward until he was a few inches in front of me. He gripped my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. I didn't wrap my arms back around him and when he noticed, he pulled away. "Why are you upset, babe?" I rolled my eyes, and huffed in annoyance. "You woke me up! That's why I'm angry!"

He put his hands up in surrender. "Jeez, sorry. I didn't think a girls sleep was such a big deal." What?! I held the whisk up to his face in a threatening manner. "Never joke about a girl and her sleep."

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just really excited! You know, I have my first NHL game with the Pittsburgh Penguins tomorrow, and I can't wait!"

I silently laughed. I guess I can't really blame him. He has every right to be excited for this game. He's going to make his debut against the Edmonton Oilers. Actually, him and Taylor Hall used to be roomates back in college. It's a shame they both got drafted into different teams. They do still talk to eachother, of course. Last night, they were on the phone until the wee hours of the morning, just to discuss this upcoming game.

I sighed. "It's fine. I know you're excited. And I'm excited for you! But please come to bed. I'm exhausted."

He softly nodded his head, "You're right. I need to rest up for the big day!" And with that, he leapt out of position, running up the stairs like an 8 year old on Christmas morning.