𝘩𝘰𝘵-𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 @ Jack Hughes x OC

episode 4

           "Wait Jack, but if I shower I need a change of clothes," Lana called from the bathroom. The lights made her vision all fuzzy.
           "Yeah you can steal some stuff from my closet if you want," he was in the kitchen still heating up food, and boy was it late. Lana yawned deeply, pulling her hoop earrings out of her ears with two quiet snaps and scattering them across the marble bathroom counter.
           "I don't wanna like invade your stuff, can you grab me like a hoodie and pants or something? You really don't have to do this though I can just head back to my place," Lana cocked her head to the side. She was thinking. She thought a lot.
           "Nah I really don't mind. I kinda feel like I owe you since I could've given you a concussion earlier," his voice was shifting around the room next to her now, and she could hear the familiar sound of hangers scraping the interior of a wardrobe too.
           "We've been over this I could have flattened you too," Lana combed her hair.
           "Yeah I doubt that," Jack stood in the doorframe now, a pile of neat clothes in his hands, "Hoodie and sweatpants, and they're clean... promise,"
          Lana reached out and grabbed the stack, "Thanks, I'll be quick because I'm starving so don't worry. You can eat without me if you want too to, I wouldn't want to hold you up being that you already showered and all of that,"
          Jack readjusted his wet brown hair with his hand. He let his eyes drift over her body quickly. He smiled, "I can wait,"

••••••••••••••••

           Steam crowded the bathroom and fogged up the mirror so it looked like frosted glass as the warm water coated Lana's skin. She scrubbed her hair with whatever shampoo was in the bottom of the shower and said a little prayer, hoping that she wouldn't regret that choice later. The hot water danced across her deeply tanned skin and coated her thick eyelashes. She smiled into the steam. 
           A few minutes later she turned the steel knob counterclockwise to cut the flow of water and it halted with a screech of metal on metal. She picked a lush white folded towel from under the sink and wrapped herself in it before she wiped her hand across the mirror to be able to view herself. Using some leftover makeup wipes from her bag she stripped her face of pigments and glosses. She felt fresh and comfortable. 
           Slowly she pulled on the oversized hoodie and inspected it. It was a deep navy color, almost black, and had an embroidered USA Hockey logo over the front of it. It had two hoodie strings that matched the navy color and a slouchy hoodie pouch pocket on the front too. She spun around and ran her fingers over the stitching on the left and right shoulders. A small American Flag was embroidered on the left shoulder, and a 86 was embroidered on the right. The fonts all matched. The very back had J. Hughes embroidered across the bottom, right above the bottom hemmed tapering. It was fleece lined and incredibly warm and hung down to almost her mid-thigh. Being that she was 6 inches shorter than him, it made sense. 
            Lana moved onto the sweatpants next. They were simple and black, but fit her quite comfortably around the waist, they were just too long for her. She rolled the top of them twice. Then she applied some lip oil and moisturizer from the mini sample in her black leather bag and combed her hair one last time. With her spare hair tie she took her damp wavy hair into her hands and began to braid it into one large and loose plait. Left, middle, right, her fingers twisted and turned and danced through her shiny hair, and eventually her braid was complete. She tied it off and laid it over her left shoulder. Lana then collected her items and jammed them back into her leather bag. She left the bag on the left of the sink, opened the shower door to let more steam out, and reorganized his shampoo, conditioner, and body wash on the base of his shower.
          Lana opened the bathroom door with a click and the warmth leaked out into the family room area of his suite. She was met with crisp, cold air, and the scents of chicken and rice almost immediately. The clock above the oven read: 11:56. Perfect dinner time! Lana crept into the kitchen and found Jack, although now he was changed into pajama pants and another hoodie, and was slumped, nearly drooling across his white marble table with a heaping and steaming pan of chicken and rice on a hot plate in front of him. Lana smiled to herself. She placed a gentle hand on his closer shoulder.
           "Jack... Jack..... hey Jack, I'm done showering if you want to eat now," she spoke at just a level above a whisper while gently shaking his shoulder. She couldn't help but notice the tone of his arms. He rolled slightly and groaned, "What took so damn long?" 
           "Bro, cmon' you know I was as fast as I could be," she sighed, he picked his head up and stretched his arms above his head, exposing his abdominals for a quick moment. 
           "Here, I'm just teasing, sit here," Jack beckoned to the chair closest to him and scooted two mismatched bowls to the pair, "I like your hoodie too Lan," he rolled his eyes.
             "Whatever, thank you again. I really do appreciate everything, and I'm starving," Lana pulled the serving spoon towards herself. 

            The pair ate in silence, chugging some water between bites as they gazed towards the television that Jack must've clicked on as she was in the shower. It was some hockey movie set in the 80s that she had never seen before but it had a warm retro vibe to it.

            "You know," she spoke between bites, "this isn't as good as Nico's pasta, but it is pretty damn good," Lana finished. She drank some water from a cold glass.

           "It's not the greatest I know, but it gets the job done so I can't really complain considering last year I could literally only cook broccoli in the microwave," He cleared his throat and drew a long sip of water.

           "Dude. What," she deadpanned. His shoulders shook with his laugh. "Do you want me to teach you to cook sometime? I've been cooking for like 10 years so I can definitely help you out if you want some help," she suggested.

            "Yeah okay, I'll have you over sometime for it. You all done?" 

           Lana reached to clear her empty bowl but Jack's hand scooped it up before she could. Although she protested many times, Jack still insisted on washing out her bowl and setting it into the dishwasher. Lana took it upon herself to make her way to the plush couch that stood directly in front of the television. It was an intense part of the movie where the coach was screaming at the entire locker room and treating them like a bunch of little children who had never played hockey before. Lana allowed herself to melt into the couch cushions, her eyelids drooped heavily but she managed to stay awake as she felt weight on the cushion next to her. Jack threw himself onto the couch too and drew out a long yawn again, covering his face with his hand. The clock below the television read 12:34 and Lana was still struggling to keep her eyes open. She nodded in and out of consciousness. Her head bobbed repeatedly until all she felt was a warm arm pull her into a comforting embrace, and black cover her vision like a dark curtain.

••••••••••••••••

I know it's kinda slow but it won't be in the next coming chapters I promise! 

-author