Still yours, almost || Nathan MacKinnon
Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon / fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: poorly proof read, cursing, angst, a kiss, I think thatβs it?
A/N: This is so late I'm so sorry π work was insane the past month so I really struggled to find the time to write. Anywayssssβ¦ I had the honor of writing for the lovely owner herself, @wyattjohnston for her summer fic exchange! Kinda just winged it with the whole wedding schedule, I haven't been to one in 6 years and I especially donβt know what the makarβs wedding was like lol. Other than that, I really hope you like it! It was an honor to write for you π«‘
You spot him before he spots you.
Heβs wearing a navy suit that fits just a little too well, the tie slightly loosened. Typical. Effortlessly sharp. Irritatingly magnetic. Standing at the bar with a few of his teammates, most you recognize but some are new, too.
Itβs just another reminder of how youβre no longer in each otherβs lives. Youβd know those new teammates if you werenβt so distant, so cold, and yet you still canβt help but watch from afar, unable to let go.
You force your eyes away and breathe deep. Itβs been years since you last saw Nathan MacKinnon, your last time together being an emotional, fiery break-up despite how you tried so hard to keep you together.
The scenery of the very western, very nature-themed wedding does little to distract your thoughts now. Refusing to linger, you make your way through the socializing crowd dispersed throughout the outdoor space, wondering if you can find a familiar face.
Faces you think you might know occasionally cross your line of sight but you canβt quite tell if itβs wishful thinking on your part, just desperate to see a friend.
The wedding of an old acquaintance, Cale Makar, found you back in Colorado before you could blink. In truth, it was too tempting to not return to your old stomping grounds, the curiosity to see how everyone was doing was too strong to ignore.
Unfortunately, that also meant the likelihood of you running into your ex was practically guaranteed. Itβs hard to say if that was the only reason you decided to come to begin with.
You never really did get over Nathan. The break-up wasnβt even your ideaβit was his, claiming how hockey (itβs always hockey) was getting to his head, that he needed to be alone and think. The season was getting hard, there was pressure from his coaches, his teammates, the mediaβ¦ It was something you should have seen coming; everyone warned you that getting with a professional hockey player was a bad idea.
But you saw past all the warnings, and you fell for the sweet words, the romantic gestures, the warm look in his eye every time heβd talk to you. Nathan is everything youβve ever wanted in a partner: smart, driven, unabashedly loyal, a good lover, and most of all? Unafraid to show to the world how much he loved you.
Thatβs why it caught you so off-guard when he asked you to come over one night and dropped the mega bomb that was wanting to break-up. The βitβs not you, itβs meβ speech made several rounds that night as you questioned him, unable to comprehend how his decision came out of nowhere.
To this day, youβre still sure he regrets doing it. You canβt prove it, but you know Nathan, and despite your friends and family telling you not to, you kept up with him in the media. Read every microexpression on his face, saw how tense and uptight he became in those weeks after leaving you.
He kept up with you, too. Liked all your posts on social media, watched every one of your stories, and one of the girlfriends you kept in touch with on the Avalanche even reported to you he had asked how you were doing one time.
So, despite how one-sided the break-up appeared at the time, you trust your gut and just know that βI need less distractionsβ was just a ruse. Youβre not sure if youβre ready to unveil said-ruse just yet.
Seeing Nathan again still sends a violent swarm of butterflies churning in your gut, though, so you quickly decide you need a few drinks before even thinking about being in a conversation with him. If you still want one with him.
The bar is taken, however, unofficially by the very man you want to avoid, so youβll have to wait. You swiftly turn around and walk in the opposite direction, weaving through the crowd to put as much space between you as possible.
Just as youβre passing under a rather pretty arch of dangling vines and flowers, a call of your name has you pausing in surprise. You look over to where the call came from to see a smiling face and eager wave beckoning you to come over.
You think you recognize her; her hair is longer than you last remembered, the blonde color lighter than the shade you last saw her in, but youβd remember her face anywhere because it mirrors the same one youβve been trying to avoid.
βHey, Sarah,β you greet with a smile, truly happy to see an old friend in such an unfamiliar place. βHow are you doing? Itβs been a bit.β
ββA bitβ?β she says, arching an eyebrow at your choice of words. βItβs been years, you practically disappeared.β Sarah says this all lightly, but thereβs an undercurrent of pity and concern youβre able to pick up in-between the lines.
You shrug sheepishly, wanting to avoid the topic you know will inevitably be brought up. βYeahβ¦ Sorry about that. Iβve been travelling, you know, it just kind of got hard trying to keep up through all the timezones.β
It wasnβt a lie. You took time off work - a luxury you donβt take advantage of often - moved a good chunk of your savings into your checking, and booked your first trip as far away from Colorado as possible.
Catch planes, not feelings, they say. You remember thinking you shouldβve taken that saying more literally a lot sooner.
βWell,β Sarah says, suddenly pulling you into a tight hug. βIβm just glad I found you. Letβs catch up, yeah?β
You nod, grateful at her attempts to not make you feel more uncomfortable than you already are. She walks a few steps ahead of you, leading you through the crowd when you realize sheβs heading towards the bar, where he still occupies.
βSarah?β You quickly walk up behind her, tapping her arm. βCan weβ¦ Um, can we talk somewhere else?β Your words are weak, soft and shameful, as your eyes dart from your old friend to her brother and back.
You two were close for a reason, though, as even after all your time away, she still reads you like a book. Her confusion turns to sympathy and all she does is nod before pivoting directions, leading you back the way you came except this time you fully pass through the arch until youβre outside.
βTracy did so good choosing this venue.β Sarah says as she breaks the silence, a serene smile on her face as she takes a moment to admire the scenery.
You donβt quite agree with her sentiment, finding it all just a bit tacky and very Canadian despite being in Colorado. Regardless, though, you canβt argue that parts of the venue are gorgeous, including the area the two of you find yourselves in.
βIβm glad they finally decided to tie the knot,β you reply, thinking back to when you first met Tracy and Cale and immediately admired the connection between them. βTheyβre so good for each other, honestly.β
Sarah turns to look at you then, her easygoing smile turning to a slight frown as she regards you with what looks like concern. You hate the look on her face as youβd rather just pretend the last few years never even happened.
That you never fell in love with her brother, that you never got your heart destroyed and ran away without saying goodbye.
She says your name cautiously, coming to stand more closely in front of you. βYouβ¦ Are you okay? Genuinely. Iβwe all think about you, and you just left without ever really talking about it.β
You stay silent, unable to reply. What would you even say? βIβm actually still in love with Nathan, sadly, so talking about him feels like a million knives stabbing my heart at onceβ.
βHe made a mistake, a big one. Said it himself.β
Your eyes snap towards her at once, the shock on your face confirming something inside Sarah as she seems to nod to herself before continuing.
βI donβtββ
βHeβs always done that, even as a kid. Self-sabotaging anything good in his life because he thought he had to earn it, not just have it given freely.β
Sarah stares at you. You stare back.
βI donβt know what you want me to say, Sarah,β you finally say, crossing your arms in defeat. βIt was always going to be hockey for him. It would always come first, I knew that, even if his excuse was shitty, and at the end of the day thatβs what he chose.β
Never one to curse, your friendβs next words shocked you. βHe fucked up with you. Big time. I know he still regrets it, would probably die just to have the chance to speak with you.β
βHe doesnβt know Iβm here?β you ask, surprised. Cale is his best friend, surely heβd tell him if his ex-flame was coming to his wedding?
Sarah shakes her head. βI donβt think he ever asked, and Cale definitely wasnβt going to bring it up. Nathanβs still so torn over you.β
βYou two must talk about me a lot.β you say dryly, deflecting the opening sheβs trying to give you.
βWe donβt have to. I know him so well I can just tell what heβs thinking without having to ask. Perk of being siblings,β she replies flippantly, giving you a wry smile in response.
βWell,β you say with a sigh. βIβm not going out of my way to talk to him. Heβll have to find me himself, if he ever even realizes Iβm here.β
Sarah gets a contemplative look on her face that quickly turns to mischief. You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. βAnd donβt go telling him Iβm here either, yeah? I know you.β
She puts her hands up in defense, merely turning to walk with you as you make your way back inside for the reception dinner. Time passed a lot more quicker than you realized, as the social hour before the dinner was entirely spent talking with your friend.
The tables have finally finished being set up as you look around. Thereβs a seating arrangement chart on the other side of the room but itβs currently surrounded by a large crowd also trying to find their seat, so you settle for walking around the tables and reading the name tags to locate yours. Sarah, already knowing where she sits, keeps you company as you look for your name while making idle small talk.
βHow about the guys abroad? Did you meet anyone? Have a favorite country?β
Only half listening to her as you scan the tables, your replies are short and offhanded. βSpain or Denmark, maybe,β
Finally, you find your name with a triumphant grin. Placing the strap of your bag along the back of the chair, you take a moment to examine the other names on the table, only to be extremely surprised to find Sarahβs nametag right next to yours.
You look up to your friend with a frown. βYou let me wander around looking for my seat all while knowing I was right next to you?β
Sarah shrugs guiltily. βSurprise?β
βNathan is probably sitting at this table too, I bet,β you say mockingly, chuckling a bit to yourself until you see the expression on her face.
You immediately scan the room in panic. βSarah,β you hiss. βIs he sitting here?β
βI didnβt make the seating chart!β
βBut you made a suggestion to Tracy, didnβt you?β Tracy is Caleβs fiancΓ©e, now wife.
Heaving a sigh, your friend pulls out her seat to sit down, gesturing for you to do the same. βNone of us liked how you two ended. So, yeah, maybe we meddled a bit.β
If you were ready to face him youβd thank her. Definitely not now, though.
You go to anxiously rub your eyes before remembering your make-up. Looking at the other nametag to your right, you release a quick breath of relief to at least see he wonβt be right next to you. βWhereβs he sitting, then?β
Sarah points across the circular table. You canβt read the name tag to confirm, but you believe her when she points out a few of the other names of some teammates you know Cale is close to, too.
You refrain from sprinting in the other direction as you see everyone begin to sit in their seats. Against your better health, you scan the room for Nathan. It doesnβt take you long to find him as he towers over most people, and you could recognize that blonde hair and chiselled jawline anywhere.
He still hasnβt noticed you yet. Heβs distracted by what looks like another teammate who is also sitting at the table with you, and he hasnβt even looked away as they walk closer.
You decide to play nonchalant. You grab the glass of water to the right of your plate, feigning disinterest as you sip slowly and look off into the distance. His voice becomes distinguishable as he gets closer; you think heβs talking about hockey.
Shocker.
You can tell the moment he sees you because he abruptly stops speaking. You arenβt looking at him but you know heβs taking you in, eyes roaming over your face, hair, the manicured hand holding your water, the dress youβre wearing that flatters your body quite nicely.
Heβs completely silent. You know Sarah, Nathanβs teammate, anyone else having come to sit at the table is eyeing the tension between you nervously.
Finally, you decide to look at him before it becomes obvious youβre avoiding him. You meet Nathanβs eyes, clear blue swallowed by blown pupils which swell as you hold eye contact for the first time in years.
Nathan looks anguished as he stares at you. He doesnβt speak - you donβt think he can - and he doesnβt move. Itβs slightly unsettling as you squirm in your seat from such intense examination. Nobody dares to break the ice; they wait for either you or him to speak.
After several long, uncomfortable seconds, he finally says your name. Itβs whispered, soft, and ten other emotions mixed in that you canβt even begin to unravel. You settle for merely giving a small smile, taking another moment to appreciate the man before you even if itβs painful.
βHey,β you say, quiet and unsure.
βHey,β Nathan says back. His mouth shuts immediately after, and you know thatβs the end of this very short, very tense exchange of words. Youβd call it a conversation, but you donβt think saying your name and βheyβ really counts.
Someone taps their glass with a fork, the resounding βding!β effectively quieting all conversation in the room. You breathe a small sigh of relief, happy to not have to stare awkwardly at everyone around the table for ten minutes until dinner is served.
A woman you donβt recognize but who you can safely guess to be of importance to Tracy, the bride, starts to tearfully speak. Itβs not a long speech as everyone is antsy to eat, but itβs enough to tug at everyoneβs heart strings as servers bring out dishes of food to hand out to everyone.
Against your better judgement, her words also sent a sharp pang of longing through your chest. You wish you could have your best friend give an emotional speech for you at your wedding, you wish you were the lucky bride getting married to the love of your life.
Your eyes shift to Nathan out of instinct. Heβs already looking at you, broody and intense and wanting. You swallow past the lump in your throat and look away.
He already had his chance with you, you tell yourself. A few desperate looks and longing expressions wonβt get you to fold that easily.
Alcohol is served at the same time as dinner. Youβre able to place drink orders with the servers for only an hour after food is handed out, and after that you have to order at the bar. People start to finish their dinner shortly, as everyone begins to disperse again. Most head towards the bar, others head to the dance floor where a hired DJ is already blasting music, and the rest are content to either stay in their seats or mingle around the room.
You were attempting to rush towards the bar along with everyone else but Sarah grabs your arm and redirects you before you even get in line. She drags you towards the dance floor, where of course βCupid Shuffleβ has already started.
βIsnβt this a little basic? I think they played this seven times during my senior prom.β you ask Sarah with a laugh, and despite your criticism eagerly participate in the steps.
She merely grins, shrugging with a laugh of her own. Time slips away and the next thing you know youβre sweaty, face flushed red, and feet aching in your heels when you finally have enough and exit the floor.
Sarah, somehow, has as much energy as when you first started dancing. She gives you a questioning look, to which you just gesture that youβre heading out to give your body (mostly your feet) a break.
By this point the crowd at the bar has mostly dispersed, so youβre able to order a drink with little wait time. You receive it within seconds and then make your way to the outside area of the venue. Pushing open the glass doors off to the side of the room, you step out and take a giant breath of fresh air.
The light layer of sweat over your body cools as a light, chilling breeze sweeps through, sending goosebumps up and down your arms. It feels too refreshing for you to care, so you simply sip on your drink and serenely admire the environment around you.
You donβt miss that the whole situation is entirely too cliche, straight out of a Hallmark romance movie. Especially as you lean over the balcony, resting your arms on the railing like the protagonist waiting for their lover to find them.
Perhaps itβs not too far off the mark, though. Your heartbeat picks up a little at the thought, that maybe he will seek you out after all. It definitely would fit the theme if you were in a Hallmark movie, right?
The universe would agree with you, apparently. You hear the doors open behind you. You already know who it is without having to look.
βWhat are you doing out here by yourself?β
βBreathing. Drinking,β you reply, exhaling loudly. You still refuse to look at him and take a long sip from your glass. βKinda fitting, no? Happy wedding, happy guests, all except for one who has to go outside and brood. βFresh airβ being the main excuse. Am I in a Hallmark movie?β
Nathan, who normally pulls off expressionless quite effortlessly, looks at you with wide eyes. Heβs not sure what to make of the slightly tipsy you after all these years, firing off questions like they have a timer.
βI guess if weβre going off of timely coincidences that have vague undercurrents of romantic tension,β he starts, tentatively. βThen yes, you are in a Hallmark movie.β
βFucking fantastic.β you mutter. He hears you, though.
βAt least weβre co-stars together.β
You finally turn to face him. Heβs standing next to you, copying your stance and leaning over the railing of the balcony. βSince when did you get a vocabulary like that?β
Nathan suddenly laughs. Heβs clearly caught off-guard by your question; god, how he missed your quick wit.
βI read some books,β he answers. βFinally looked at that recommendation list you gave me, what? Three months into dating?β
You donβt have an answer for him. You just keep staring, taking in the features youβd missed now thatβs right in front of you. Damn, he still looks good.
βFunny how it took you leaving for me to check it out.β This one is said softly, like heβs afraid of the reaction heβs going to get for saying it. Thereβs caution in his eyes, trying to read the new lines and twitches of your face heβd missed over the years of you being gone.
With an exhale, you turn back and face the scenery before you. Youβre staring particularly hard at an oddly shaped leaf when you reply. βYouβre the one who wanted me to go, Nathan,β
βI know,β he says, his voice ever so slightly breaking at the end. βI know. And I regret it more than anything.β
You shake your head immediately, as if you could shove the words he just said back into his mouth where they came from. βIβ¦ I donβt think Iβm sober enough for this conversation.β
Nathan takes a step away immediately, trying to respect your space.
βOkay,β he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick that never went away. βThatβs okay. Whenever youβre ready to talk. If youβre ready to talk.β
Taking a moment to breathe, you fully turn to face him. Despite his size, Nathan looks small under the heat of your unrelenting gaze as if he wants whatever youβre looking for to be approved. You think back to your conversation with Sarah and the brokenness you felt, the hurt, and decide that speaking on better terms would be a good thing.
Healing, or being confronted with hard things. Whatever your therapist says.
βWhen are you flying out?β
βNot until Monday,β
You nod, thinking of when you yourself are flying back home. Or, itβs not really your home but rather your parents. You havenβt exactly had a home as you were travelling abroad. Your flight doesnβt leave until Sunday night, or tomorrowβthe whole day is practically free.
βOkay,β you say. βMy flight doesnβt leave until tomorrow night, you can buy me coffee in the morning. Does that work for you?β
Nathan nods immediately without even taking a second to think. βYeah, thatβs fine. Not hotel coffee, right?β
Your lips quirk up into a small smile. βYou remembered?β
The smile he gives you is criminal. Sweet, caring, everything underneath the hard exterior he puts up for others. βOf courseβ¦ I never forgot.β
You wake up early the next day, unable to sleep. Your mind is running rampant with all the possible scenarios for how coffee with Nathan will go.
Does he even remember your order, like he said?
He confirms the time with you as youβre in the middle of brushing your teeth. Your motions pause as your phone lights up, a text from an unsaved number coming in. As you quickly wipe away the toothpaste mustache on your upper-lip, you type a response that you hope sounds casual.
Hey, itβs Nathan. I got your number from Sarah. Does 9 work for coffee?
Yeah, 9 works fine. Thank you
Checking the time, you see itβs only eight thirty. As youβre only meeting in the hotel lobby, you donβt bother panicking yourself with rushing (or at least try) and take the time to do your makeup.
No, youβre not trying to impress him. You justβ¦ Want to look good. Because youβll be in public. Thatβs it.
When itβs eight fifty-five you leave your room to the elevators, pressing the button for ground floor and tap your fingers rhythmically to the elevator music.
Your heartbeat speeds up as the doors open to a scarcely populated lobby. You figure that most people have flown out earlier, or are just sleeping in.
Crossing into the breakfast lounge, you do a quick scan and find that Nathan hasnβt arrived yet. Choosing a cute, circular booth next to a window, you exhale nervously and wait.
Luckily - or not - you donβt have to wait long.
The moment you spot him walking in, you know heβs seen you too. He hesitates for only half a second before heading your way, nervous excitement on his face.
He slides into the booth across from you, his eyes searching yours like heβs still trying to confirm youβre real. You force a small smile, breaking the tension before it grows unbearable.
βMorning,β you say, voice lighter than you feel.
βMorning,β he echoes. He looks tiredβnot in the post-wedding-party kind of way, but in the bone-deep way you remember from those long stretches in the season when the pressure was eating him alive.
You gesture toward the coffees heβs set down in front him. βWhich oneβs mine?β
He nods his head towards the one on your right. βThat one. I remembered your order, too, like I said.β
That makes you blink. βReally? I thought you were just bluffing. Just trying to get me to meet up with you, yβknow.β
Nathan doesnβt even look smug from your response. He just shrugs, like itβs the most obvious thing in the world. βI said I remembered, didnβt I?β
Thereβs a moment of silence as the two of you reach for your respective coffees. You wrap your hands around yours, letting the warmth soak into your palms.
βI wasnβt sure youβd actually show up,β you admit finally.
βI wasnβt sure youβd actually ask me,β he says back, quiet but firm. βBut you did.β
You take a sip, the familiar flavor grounding you. Huh, he did remember after all. βWhy now, Nathan? You had years to call, text, emailβhell, carrier pigeon. But you waited until a wedding toβ¦ what? Catch me alone on a balcony and tell me you regret it?β
His jaw works, like heβs chewing over the right words. βBecause before now, I didnβt think I deserved the chance.β
Your chest tightens, the air between you feeling heavier. He leans forward slightly, elbows on the table, every line of his face serious.
βI thought letting you go was me doing the right thing for both of us. That I couldnβt be the guy you needed while trying to keep my career together. I told myself youβd be better off. But Iβ¦β He huffs out a breath. βI was miserable without you. And I kept telling myself Iβd get over it. I never did.β
You look down at your coffee, unable to meet the weight of his gaze. βThatβs a nice speech, but it doesnβt erase the fact that you were the one who walked away. You made that choice for both of us.β
βI know.β His voice is low, almost raw. βAnd Iβm not asking you to forgive me today. I justβ¦ I didnβt want the last time we ever talked to be that night.β
The words hang there, daring you to believe them.
You take another sip, watching him over the rim of your cup. Heβs older nowβnot just in years, but in the lines carved into his face, the way his eyes hold both regret and hope like heβs terrified one will win over the other.
Maybe, you think, youβre not ready to forgive him. But youβre not ready to walk away either.
βOkay,β you say at last. βThen talk.β
The relief in his eyes is almost enough to undo you.
Nathan takes your βthen talkβ like a challenge, but not the kind heβs used to winning on the ice.
He leans back a little, giving you space, but his eyes never waver. βYou already know I regret it. Iβve said that. But what I donβt think you realize is how much you wereβ¦ part of everything. Iβd have a bad game, Iβd come home, and just hearing you talk about your day made it feel better. I didnβt get that when you left.β
You stir your coffee with a tiny wooden stick provided at the table, watching the swirl of cream blend into brown. βI didnβt leave, Nathan. You left me. You told me you wanted to focus on hockey. The pressure was becoming too much, apparently I was becoming too much. Remember that?β
He flinches. Not dramatically, but enough that you know youβve struck clean through.
βI know,β he says again, softer this time. βAnd Iβve had a lot of time to sit with that. I guess I was just scared youβd β¦ hate me. Or worse, that you wouldnβt care anymore.β
βThatβs worse?β you ask, raising an eyebrow.
βYeah,β he swallows, voice turning rough. βAt least hate means you still feel something.β
You let out a slow breath, feeling the sting of his honesty. The truth is, you did try not to care. You tried so hard, but the universe clearly had other plans.
βSarah told me you still talk about me,β you say, testing him.
His lips twitch into something thatβs almost a smile. βI do talk about you. I think about you more, though. Constantly. Talking about you just makes it worse.β
You tilt your head, studying him. βAnd what do you think is going to happen now? That Iβll just, likeβ¦ slide right back into your life?β
βNo,β he says immediately, shaking his head. βIβm not expecting anything. I just want a chance to earn you back. Even if thatβs months from now. Even if it never happens.β
That last part hits something deep in your chestβbecause he sounds like he actually means it. Not as a manipulative hook, not as some hollow promise, but as a real acceptance that he might have to live without you.
You glance toward the window, the morning light spilling across the table. βYou still drink your coffee too hot?β
The corner of his mouth lifts. βScalding.β
You smirk despite yourself. βSome things never change.β
His gaze is steady when he answers. βSome things shouldnβt.β
You look down at your hands, gripping your cup like itβs the only thing tethering you to the ground. Your heart is beating too fast, your brain screaming at you to keep your guard up, but thereβs something elseβsomething youβve been ignoring for yearsβthatβs louder in this moment.
Maybe thatβs why, after another stretch of silence, you find yourself saying, βWalk me back to my room?β
Nathanβs brows lift, surprise flickering before he nods once. βYeah. Of course.β
The hallway to your room is quiet, save for the muffled hum of the hotel. You stop outside your door, fumbling for your keycard, but your hands are shakingβnot from nerves exactly, but from the way the air between you feels charged.
When you finally look up, Nathan is standing close enough that you can see the flecks of darker blue in his irises.
βThanks for the coffee,β you say, voice lower now.
βAnytime,β he murmurs. And then, after the smallest pause, βCan Iββ
You donβt let him finish. You lean in first, closing the gap, your lips brushing his in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable. It tastes like coffee and all the years youβve wasted pretending you didnβt want this.
He freezes for a secondβjust oneβbefore kissing you back, his hand coming up to cup your jaw like heβs afraid youβll vanish. Itβs not urgent, not desperate, just deliberate. Familiar.
When you pull away, your breath catches. Nathanβs forehead rests against yours, his voice a whisper meant only for you.
βDonβt let that be the last one.β
And youβre not sure yet if you will.
A/N: I really like this one, I think itβs cute. I donβt end fics on super crazy cliffhangers usually where fate is up in the air but I like this one specifically just for that. I hope yβall enjoyed! :) reblogs & comments appreciated!!
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