NHL Imagines

Dylan Strome (Erie Otters)

"Ow! Casey, watch it!" I whined.

My "maid of honor" had stabbed the back of my head with the hair clip making me lurch forward at the pinching.

"I'm sorry!" he panicked "It's a really small clip and I don't know if you know this, but you have a lot of hair!"

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic statement and looked into the little compact mirror, seeing my eyeliner had smudged a bit in the corner. I went to wipe it off, but he smacked my hand away.

"Do not touch your makeup! It took them almost an hour to do it! Let me wipe it off with a wet cloth, so it doesn't smudge more!" he scolded me.

After he finished with it, he turned me around to face the body mirror. I looked... stunning. I'd never seen myself this way before. Makeup and hair done perfectly, beautiful white dress, my Rangers heels peeking out from underneath the thick, silk fabric. 

Everything was perfect, to say the least. But something was off. Dylan wasn't here.

I've known Dylan since we were born basically. We were born on the same day, same hospital, one room over from each other. The only difference is, he was born 20 minutes earlier than me. Not only that, our mothers were best friends as well. That meant we spent almost every waking moment with one another.

When I told Dylan about my wedding, he was... a jerk to put it nicely. He told me straight up that he hated Trevor. He would repeat time and time again that Trevor wasn't right for me. I never understood why until a couple months ago.

||Flashback||

He stared blankly at my hand.

I wriggled my fingers with a huge smile on my face, showing off the ring that Trevor had proposed with.

Almost immediately after Trevor dropped me off at home, I called Dylan to come over. He arrived shortly after, thinking something bad had happened.

"You're getting married to him?" Dylan spat.

My smile dropped quickly.

"Yeah... Why? Is that a problem?"

"Yes! That's a huge problem! You know he's not right for you! He's a jerk, (Y/N)! He doesn't deserve a girl like you! You don't love him!"

"Are you kidding me right now, Dylan? I just told you I'm getting married to him and you're still on that whole thing? He loves me, Dylan. And I-I... love him too. Why can't you understand that?" I cried to him.

"No. I love you, (Y/N). I love you and I'll never stop. But you know what? Whatever. Get married. Do it. But don't expect me to be there when it happens,"

||End of flashback||

"(Y/N)! Oh my gosh, don't you dare start crying!" Casey yelled at me.

My head snapped up and I looked in the mirror, my figure and everything around me blurred out. I dropped my head back, keeping my eyes open to stop the tears.

"What the hell is going on, (Y/N)? Tell me now," Casey ordered.

"I can't go through with this," I mumbled.

"Oh thank god!" Casey shouted out.

I dropped my head back down slowly, trying to process what he had just said.

"Did you just-"

"Yes. Yes I did. You've been spacing in and out every ten minutes ever since you woke up. Not only that, but every time your phone beeps, you rush to answer it, only to set it down with the saddest look I've ever seen on a person's face before,"

"What do I do?" I sighed, putting my head in my hands.

"Go find him, you wuss. I'll explain it to everyone, okay? They'll understand, (Y/N/N). It's better now than later when it's too late," he shrugged.

I rushed to him, hugging him as tight as I could before sprinting out the door with a loud 'thank you.'

||At Dylan's house||

I rang the doorbell more than fourteen times, internally begging him to open the door. A group of people passed by, giving me the weirdest look.

"Yeah, give me a second!" his rough voice sounded through the door.

I almost squealed at the sound and smoothed my dress out, tapping my foot and crossing my arms impatiently.

As soon as the door opened, I threw myself into him.

"DylanI'msorryIdidn'tlistentoyou.Pleasepleasedon'tbemadatme," I spoke too fast for him to understand, but patted myself on the back for getting it all out in one breath.

He pushed me away from him quickly and I was slightly offended by the gesture.

His hands were still on my forearms, holding me out in front of him. His eyes roamed up and down my body, widening at the sight of me in a wedding dress.

"What in the holy hell are you doing here?" were his first words.

"Dylan, I don't love him. You were right. I'm so so so sorry that I didn't listen to you. I know this is really weird, you know, seeing me in a wedding dress and all, but I needed to talk to you right now. I couldn't do it, Dylan. I couldn't marry him,"

"And you decided this on your wedding day? That's not very smart, (Y/N). Why did you just now figure out that you didn't love him?"

"Don't lecture me on leaving my own damn wedding, Dylan! I do feel bad! I really do! I had family come out from thousands of miles away! But I don't love him. I don't. It's better I did it now rather than years later! I thought you'd be happy about this,"

Before I knew it, I was in his arms again.

"Thank you," he told me, kissing the top of my head.

"For what?" I rested my chin on his chest.

"For letting me love you,"

I apologize to whoever requested this because I can't for the life of me find who wanted it, but I hope you like it! It's not one of my better imagines, it being as long as it is, and it took me a couple days to write this rather than my usual hour because I didn't have a lot of inspiration for this.