Because You're Home

Jonathan had no clue how long he had been staring at her. Maybe only two seconds, or maybe two hours. He didn't really care. It felt like a punch to the gut, like seeing a ghost, someone you didn't know if you could ever handle seeing again. He was on sensory overload.

Her hair was longer, and darker than Jon could remember. The dirty blonde hair that normally touched her shoulders was now halfway down her back, and in the light very black looking. Although Jon knew that she would never dye her hair black, but it was fitting either way. Her body was dressed in a champagne dress, the front and back covered with long jewels, fun but classy, and the back scooped low, showing off the smooth back he used to kiss. From where Jonathan was standing she wasn't wearing anything more than a swipe of mascara and nude lipstick, and he was wondering if he walked by her right now, if she would still smell like vanilla.

In her hand was a drink, one she had been nursing since Jonathan had arrived . Her friends were all laughing and talking to other people, while she just stood talking to a guy that she obviously had no interest in. Around her everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, already having four to five drinks in their systems, while she looked like she would rather jump out of a building than stick around any longer.

Jonathan was caught when a hand waved in front of his face, bringing him back to the conversation at hand, his teammates realizing he had been staring at something for some time. On his left was Patrick Kane, who normally was already catching a girl and bringing her back home or in this case to his hotel room, and on his right was Patrick Sharp, who never came out after a win especially when they were playing an away game. But it was when they both said "fuck" under their breaths that Jon knew they saw what he saw.

"Who is that?"

Jonathan didn't look at where the words had come from, probably a rookie who had no idea what kind of past he had with the person in question, he honestly didn't care, he just answered, "an old friend."

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Leah could feel him staring. If she hadn't looked twice she wouldn't of realized who it was, and wouldn't of started a plan of escape. It was like every single memory they had together came flooding back, and Leah thought she might cry right then and there. But the guy in front of her was still going on about his dogs that he loved oh so much and subtly hinting that she should go home with him when he asked if she wanted to meet them. Leah held back a scoff.

She had been holding the same drink the unnamed man had gotten her the second she walked through the door. Her friends were scattered about the place. Most girls were farther down the bar so she knew that's where most of the team must be, but Leah was happy she was on the opposite side of the bar, farthest away from him.

His eyes were still of her, looking at all the differences in the hair and face, probably looking at her dress right now and realizing where it was from, although Leah doubted he remembered, and he hadn't, not at first. She could feel her breath increasing with every second that passed, Leah had no idea how to get out of the building without passing not only him, but the whole Blackhawks team. She knew someone would say something, and Leah didn't know what she would be able to say back, if she said anything at all.

It had been three years since the last time they saw each other, and the ending they had hadn't been one where you stay in touch and then realize that you're still in love with each other, their ending was one where you pack your bags and move. Now Leah was in New York, working a job that she loved, at twenty three years of age, and having not been to a Rangers game since she moved here, she hadn't had to think about him, or even hear his name. She avoided the NHL network and Sports Center, even though they rarely talked about hockey, as a whole. She didn't even go near that section of channels. But here she was, on a Friday night after a very long week of work, wondering why tonight, of all nights, they Blackhawks had decided to lay low and not go to a club or popular bar, but instead go to a place where Leah was a regular. So here Leah was, trying her very hardest not to sneak one look at Jonathan, talking to a guy that she would rather throw up on than have sex with.

It was then that the man decided to speak, "Holy shit Jonathan Toews is looking over here," Leah shut her eyes, "And so are the rest of the Blackhawks."

Leah faltered for a second, knowing that this was her time to look at Jon and see all the things he had gone through in three years, just with one look in his eyes, instead she just looked at the unnamed man in front of her. Silently willing him to stop looking at Jonathan and to look back towards Leah and to keep talking about his Goddamned dogs, but he kept looking at Jonathan, a smile on his face thinking that Jon would actually smile back, because he had no idea that he held the Captains prized possession just a foot away from him.

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Jonathan could see the guy that Leah was standing with say something regarding him, and this was Leah's chance to look over and see Jon, but she didn't. She remained looking at the man in front of her, dark eyes willing him to do something. Jonathan could feel the rest of his teammates looking at the guy near Leah, and quickly turned towards them.

"Alright let's stop looking guys, it's fine."

The air in the room didn't stop feeling awkward and palpable. Jonathan kept sipping his drink, trying to be involved in the forced conversations his teammates were having. In all honesty, Jon felt like all the guys were trying their hardest not to walk over and talk to Leah, after all she had been friends with them. Even if it had been three years, he knew his teammates missed her. Hell even Jonathan missed her, he'd be lying if he didn't. But he had a girlfriend in Chicago waiting for him, no time to be in love with ones that had broken his heart.

He tried to ignore it when he saw Leah put the drink she had never finished on the bar, and throw her coat on. He took a deep breath after realizing that the chump she had been talking to all night was already off trying to get someone else to go with him that night. But it was hard to ignore that she was looking for a way out, that didn't include walking past half of the Blackhawks roster, but realizing that there was no other way out, Leah took one quick breath and started walking.

Her heels clicked on the hard floor beneath her, the music loud enough to dim the sound but Jonathan could remember how they always clicked. She was just feet away from Jonathan when he spoke, "That's a beautiful dress."

He couldn't stop himself. The words came out of his mouth faster than his brain could tell him to stop. The statement tasted like vinegar on his tongue, but he was sure that it felt like being hit by a train to Leah. She stopped, abruptly, doing everything in her will to not look at Jonathan and say something, something at all, and in all honesty Jonathan wished she would. But instead Leah just closed her eyes, a tear moistening her cheek in the process, and took a deep breath. She was maybe a foot away from Jonathan, and the whole team, who was staring at her as well as most of the men in the bar. Leah looked up from the floor and kept walking, directly out the main door, losing the attention of the men that thought they might be able to bring someone like her home for the night.

Jonathan simply smiled, as she walked by, smelling the vanilla scent he had loved so much.

Notes

It's new and it's just starting so give it a chance :)

xoxox

p.s. the chapters are going to be named after the many ways that you can say the word home, weird but I hope interesting.