NHL IMAGINES [SLOW UPDATES]

Brandon Prust

The hotel lobby was bloody freezing.

Compared to the hot and stuffy ballroom you just stepped out of, it might as well be snowing in the lobby. As much as you wanted to be in the uncomfortably warm room, you weren't one for parties, especially ones where you don't know anyone. Except for the WAGs, you knew no one in that room considering that the team was late due to snow problems.

You told Brandon that they shouldn't have left their cars at the airport, that you would come pick him up or they could get a taxi, but when does he ever listen? Oh that's right, never.

You step outside to get better cellphone reception and within seconds, the white pool of fabric from your dress is covered in even whiter snow. This is Brandon's phone, I can't answer right now and I am sorry but you're going to have to wait to talk to me. For the third time, you were met with the answering machine that your boyfriend insisted on creating.

"Brandon Raymond James Prust, if you aren't here in the next ten minutes I swear that I will leave with your suit and go home." You threaten through the phone, you hate hockey related parties because people were beginning to get on your nerves asking you questions that you have no clue how to answer because they are about hockey.

You know a lot about hockey, but when it gets down to the really detailed stuff like naming favorite future draftees for 2018 -which is two years from now- you had no clue how to answer. You just wanted someone to talk to you about something normal like how the food tastes, or hell, even the weather.

You didn't want to go back inside, so you stood there in the middle of the rounded driveway rubbing your arms trying to keep warm. Behind you, the hotel's revolving door spins and out comes Nathan Beaulieu carrying Prusty's jacket in his non-broken hand.

"He'd kill me if you got sick because you were bored." Nathan says, standing out in the cold with you. Even though your dress was long sleeved, the open back wasn't helping anything.

"Well if they listened to us, they wouldn't have had to dig their cars out of the snow, and I wouldn't be waiting here for him." You replied, tired of waiting, you've been here for an hour and they still haven't showed up.

A honk scares the both of you, and Brandon honks another time as the contrasting line of black cars suddenly pull into the snow covered parking lot. One by one, the Canadiens roster file out of their cars and sheepishly head inside.

Nathan leaves you as Brandon runs up to you and gives you a deep kiss. "I am so sorry babe, I should've listened to you." You roll your eyes and give him another quick kiss.

"Your bowtie," you hand him the black material that was in his suit pocket, "your suit jacket."

"Lifesaver, I swear." Brandon mutters more to himself than you. "I have no idea how I would survive without you."

He drags you inside the lobby and hands his winter coat to the coat check. With that he turns to you and you adjust the crooked tie. You were smiling now instead of scowling like you were before he showed up and he was smirking a bit. You about to ask him why he had that look on his face, when he answered the question on his own,

"Now I get to show you off to everyone."

*cough* *COUGH* one a hab always a hab *COUGH* *COUGH*

im still a petty bastard over this trade.