Seal My Heart

"Eyes. Those damn eyes fucked me forever."

— Charles Bukowski
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The music resounding through the speakers provided by the band was pretty much elevator music so far, played in the background while the guests mingled amongst eachother. And so, instead of dancing couples, the dance floor was filled with men, women and children, the adults either catching up with old acquaintances or congratulating the bride and groom while keeping a watchful eye on their playing sons and daughters. Both the actual ceremony and reception were held outside in the huge backyard of the bride's parents' manor, which was decked out in lamps hanging from the tree branches as well as glass lanterns leading the way from the house and altar to the reception area.

The one person who wasn't mingling was the one who hadn't been invited because of ties to either of the families. No, she was invited with the promise of money and a story instead of a fancy letter.

Nora Ryan was mostly famous amongst the female population of Chicago thanks to detailed articles on the commitment page at the Chicago Sun-Times. Maybe it didn't seem like much or like a very difficult job to do, but she enjoyed it immensely. Even though Nora wasn't the only one to work at that part of the paper, she was the one most sought after when couples wanted their wedding story in the paper as her love and commitment for what she did showed through her way of writing. The hours of work always varied depending on the couple. Bigger weddings like these took more time as there was more to write about, and more intimate weddings turned into more intimate articles. Nora never minded that though, as the only one waiting at home for her was her dog.

It also helped that all of her family had been left behind in South Carolina when Nora moved to Chicago in the first place, and neither of her parents had ever been the overbearing type.

"Seriously, you need to stop working for just a minute and have a little fun. At least explore the open bar."

Nora looked up from her pad of paper and to her right. The short redhead there had an innocent look on her face but a meaning look in her eyes.

"What do you know about the open bar, anyway?" She retorted. "You're not even legal."

Lydia rolled her eyes at her older sister and looked back out over the wedding guests.

"Don't forget, Lydia," Nora looked at her sister and held up her handwritten notes. "This is the only reason we're here."

"Doesn't mean you're not allowed to enjoy yourself and actually hold a real conversation with someone else but me," the redhead responded before taking a drink out of her non-alcoholic drink.

Even though Lydia was sixteen and still living, and attending school, back in Charleston, she visited Nora in Chicago as often as she could, which was during school breaks and holidays. Their parents had minded at first, but as time went by they grew to accept it as long as Christmas was spent back home and Lydia paid for the flights on her own. Most of that money came from her birthday or Christmas, though.

"Remind me again why I keep bringing you along as my plus-one instead of finding a real date?" Nora asked her sister as she downed the last of her champagne before placing it on the tray of a passing by waiter.

"Because you love me and you have no life outside of your job."

"Ouch!" Lydia had to take a sidestep from the force of Nora's hipcheck. Her eyes then widened as she caught sight of someone amongst the crowd.

"Hey, Nora..." She poked her sister in the ribs, but Nora ignored her and wrote something down on her pad. When she was ignored, Lydia instead jammed her finger in between two ribs without looking away from her target.

"Ow! What the hell, Lydia?" Nora slapped away Lydia's hand with one of hers and used the other one to cover the now sore spot.

"I'm sorry, but you wouldn't listen to me," Lydia said. She then tapped Nora's shoulder lightly, trying not to piss her off any further.

"What is it?"

"I need you to look out on the dance floor and make sure that I'm not hallucinating."

Nora frowned at her sister. "Why would you be hallucinating? Have you been sneaking alcohol?"

"I wish," Lydia scoffed. "No, I need you to make sure I'm not imagining things through wishful thinking."

By now Nora had turned her full attention on Lydia, one shapely eyebrow raised in question. "Lydia, what the hell are you going on about? Wishful thinking?"

The redhead looked back at her and was about to say something when a flute of champagne appeared in front of Nora.

"Could I give you a drink?"

Both sisters turned to look to Nora's left. While Nora herself managed to keep it cool, Lydia wasn't able to keep her facial expression intact and couldn't keep her eyes from widening or her jaw from dropping slightly. Now Nora had to understand what she meant with wishful thinking because she couldn't come up with another reason why Jonathan Toews would be standing there, holding up a drink for her sister. Though hockey wasn't a big deal in South Carolina besides for the fans of the Carolina Hurricanes, that despite being based in Raleigh, NC represented both Carolina states, Lydia as well as Nora couldn't help but get caught up in the phenomenon that had become the Chicago Blackhawks.

Jonathan, obviously used to such reactions like Lydia's, patiently waited for Nora to accept the glass from his hand. He was acting bolder than he felt though. Just walking up to girls like that wasn't really his thing, that part was reserved for Patrick Kane and his womanizing ways. Nevertheless, Jon had pulled it together and approached the pretty blonde who was standing off to the side with a tiny redhead.

After sending her sister a look that said 'pull yourself together' and transferring her pad of paper to her left hand, Nora accepted the drink from Jonathan with a smile playing on her lips.

"Thanks," she smiled. Nora then turned her head to look at Lydia, who was still staring at Jonathan.

"I'm Nora. Nora Ryan," she introduced herself and turned away from her sister. He grinned back, holding out his free hand in order to shake hers.

"Jonathan Toews."

Having handed her pen and writing pad to Lydia, Nora slipped her small, pale hand in his big, tanned one. The shake was firm, not one of those weak ones where you barely grip the others hand. No, they'd both learned that a good handshake was crucial when it came to introductions and first impressions, especially those times work was involved.

When Nora turned to her right to retrieve her things and introduce her sister, her brows furrowed upon finding the empty space Lydia previously occupied. Looking around, she caught sight of the short redhead over by the table they'd been assigned to sit at. While she was aware that she was being impolite, Nora couldn't look away from Lydia who by now was wildly gesturing with her hands and arms.
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Over on the other side of the dancefloor, Lydia was starting to lose her patience with her sister. She didn't think that her handmotions of 'talk to him!' were very difficult to understand, but Nora obviously thought so judging by the confused looks she sent and the fact that Jonathan was starting to look a bit put out by the way he was ignored.

In the end Lydia stopped with her motions and slapped a hand against her forehead. At that, Nora gave up on her sister with a shake of her head and suddenly seemed to remember that Jonathan was standing next to her still.

"Oh, God. I'm really sorry about that. It's just that my sister was right here and then she wasn't, so I had to, you know, find her again," Nora trailed off, nervously fiddling with the stem of her glass. Something about him made her nervous, thankfully not in a bad way, but only in a way where she couldn't figure out why. It wasn't like he was the first celebrity she'd met, after all, since Nora'd attended the weddings of Cubs players, White Sox players and some other famous locals to name a few. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to stare right into her.

"She the small redhead who wouldn't stop waving her hands?" He asked with a small grin playing at his lips. At the blonde's sheepish nod, he continued. "Don't worry about it. I have a brother myself, so I get what it's like."

When she saw them finally talking to eachother, Lydia threw her hands out to her sides and rolled her eyes. How thick can you get?

"How do you know the happy couple?" Jon asked and took a sip of champagne.

Nora was a bit reluctant at first, not all athletes were that big fans of people having to do with the press, but told him after a healthy drink of alcohol. "I'm a journalist. The 'happy couple' hired me to write their wedding article."

"Oh, where do you work?" Jonathan asked her, voice light and lips smiling.

Letting out a breath of relief that he wasn't acting as if she was the plague, she answered The Chicago Sun-Times, to which he nodded and said: "So you're that Nora Ryan." At the sight of said blonde's confused expression he continued. "My mother loves your articles, reads them online whenever she can."

"Really? That's great! Glad to know that someone likes them."
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On the other side of Lydia was doing her best to convince the band to play something other than the background music, but so far it wasn't going the way she wanted it to. The band in question was following the protocol they'd been given and seemed immune to whatever the redhead used to try and make them change their minds.

"Come on, please? Pretty please? You'd really be doing me a huge favour," once again Lydia tried using the puppy-dog face. "It's not even for me. You see that blonde over there," she pointed over to the shapes that made out Nora and Jonathan, "that's my sister. She's not the best at talking to guys and I don't want her to mess this up, so I think that a dance might just... help them out a little."

When the band agreed to do as she wanted, Lydia thrust her fist in the air and thanked them continuously until they started playing the song she'd asked them to. When she saw Nora's reaction to their mother's favourite song playing, she grinned and hoped that they wouldn't continue standing there as awkwardly as they had. Jonathan then said something before handing both of their now empty glasses to a passing waiter and taking Nora's hand, leading them out amongst the rest of the now dancing couples.

Lydia had been a bit worried when she saw the slightly irritated look on the bride's face at the change in music, and breathed a sigh of relief when the groom only smiled and brought his wife out on the floor to dance. This let her continue to keep an eye on her sister and the hockey player for the rest of the evening.
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It would be an understatement to say that Nora was a little suspicious when the music changed completely and she saw Lydia over by the band. Though her attention was pulled away from her sister when Jonathan motioned to the dancefloor and asked: "Would you- Would you like to dance?"

When she looked back at him, Jon's cheeks had pinked slightly over his nervous stutter and Nora quickly reassured him with a smile. "Sure, I'd like that."

Gently taking the empty champagne flute out of her hand, Jon passed them to a waiter before taking her hand. Once they were dancing, it was hard to keep eye contact for too long before one of them looked away, but those dark brown ones were sure to not leave her mind for a long time.