Run (A Shawn Mendes Fan-fic)

Chapter Eight: One Of Those Lazy Days

Dear Diary,

After I had my panic attack you could say it's been a bit awkward between Connor and I. I mean I guess I don't care about are relationship as much as I care about Shawn and I's because he's just our bodyguard, but at the same time I can't have the person who's protecting me, hate me. 'Hate' might be the wrong word, maybe, it's actually that I can't have the person protecting me, be uncomfortable around me. Yes, that's more correct. Either way, it's an awkward situation and I don't like it. But, besides my small problem, Shawn and I have basically had just a lazy day on the bus. I swear, every second I spend with Shawn, I learn something about him and it just makes me like him more. I don't want to say I have a crush on him because admitting something is the first step of accepting it and I can't accept that right now. I DON'T UNDERSTAND MY FEELINGS, OKAY? Jeez, I'm way too strange. Well, bye for now.

Love,

A girl with 'accepting issues',

Skylar

"Hey, Skylar, what ya doing?" Shawn ask, peeking around my bed curtain.

"Shawn! You scared me!" I yelp, quickly stuffing my diary under my blanket. I'm praying he didn't see it. Once someone finds out you have a diary, they are instantly curious as to what you might write in it, leading them to read it. Shawn can't read it, nobody can read it, it's way too personal. Also, side note, I did get my old diary back from the other bodyguard who got all my stuff but I decided to continue writing in the new notebook since my old diary reminds me of darkness and Carter. Hey, new start, new notebook.

"I've been doing that a lot, haven't I?" Shawn laughs, pulling back my curtain all the way to reveal my full out relaxation day outfit.

"Wait!" I protest, pulling the curtain back, "I'm in a way too swag outfit for you to see! Don't look at me!"

"If you're worried about your hobo outfit, you don't need to worry!" Shawn laughs, pulling the curtain back open, I swear if we keep pulling it, it's going to break, "one, I'm in my own hobo outfit. Two, I'd never ever judge you. And three, you're always beautiful to me." Shawn instantly clamps his hand over his mouth, as if he wasn't supposed to say the last part. Blinking, I wonder if those words did just actually leave his mouth.

He thinks I'm beautiful? Does he actually think that or is he just being nice? Nobody would actually think I'm pretty, right? I mean I'm so dull and boring, I never actually thought that my looks would be considered 'beautiful.' Either way, when he said it, butterflies erupted and I can't deny it.

"Do you actually mean that?" I finally speak up, "do you actually think I'm beautiful?"

"I don't just think it, I know it," Shawn whispers, smiling softly, "Not only are you beautiful on the outside but you're also beautiful on the inside and you would be amazed at how much that shows through."

I want to cry and puke and laugh, I don't know, I'm rarely complimented so I honestly don't know what to say. 'Thank you' sounds strange to say, people say it so much these days it kind of loses its meaning. How will he actually know I'm truly thankful?

"I don't know what to say," I mumble, "thanks?" I question.

"You're welcome," he smiles. "Now, I'll leave you to your peaceful bliss and quit bothering you, I'll be in the back lounge room if you need anything," he turns to walk away but I grab his hand.

"Shawn, wait," I stop him, stumbling out of bed and right into his arms, "you know, I'm actually really thankful that you said that, okay? I'm actually really thankful for you in general. Everything you do for me, I notice. You do know that, right? Checking up on me is really sweet of you and letting me stay with you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that, Shawn. I wanted you to know that I'm not actually some ungrateful rich girl because I really do appreciate everything you've done and are doing for me," I tell him, snuggling into his chest.

"I know that, Skylar," he replies, I can almost feel him smile, "but for the record, I never thought you were some ungrateful rich girl," he laughs.

"Oh, come on!" I laugh swatting at his arm, "have you ever read one of those articles those journalist write about me? They make me look like a stuck up brat!" His chest vibrates with laughter and I continue to giggle, listing off some of things I've been called in some of those stupid articles.

"An overly-emotional, rude slug? Did they really call you that?" Shawn laughs.

"Yes, they really did. I mean come on, overly-emotional? Have they ever seen a girl on her period? I'm definitely average-emotional," I joke, letting my actual opinion of that mean comment from the journalists slip away.

Shawn bubbles into more laughter, "Out of that whole insult, you pick 'overly-emotional' as the worst part. Have you seen how ugly and gross slugs even are?"

"Woah, woah, wait... They're saying I look like a slug? I thought they were just saying I was lazy!" I yell, pulling away from Shawn and darting over to my suitcase where my laptop is. "Well, then. I guess this article wants a bad review." I turn on my laptop and start to go over some things I can write to them in my head, not even caring that this article is over a year old.

I quickly pull up the article about me, laughing at the most unflattering photo of me ever alive that they chose as the cover image.

"That is a hilarious picture of you," Shawn laughs, as he looks over my shoulder.

"I know right," I say, sarcasm thick in my tone, "I think I'm going to set it as my profile picture on Instagram! It would be a crime to waste a majestic picture like that."

"You have Instagram? Let me follow you!" Shawn jumps excitedly, running over to his bed to grab his phone.

"I don't know, I just got it last night and I don't need all your fans following me and giving me hate," I frown, truly upset that fans have this much power. Even though I don't know much about Shawn's fandom other than that there's a lot of them and he's crazy good at singing, I still know how fandoms are. They're vicious.

"Just make your account private, then they can't comment on your posts," he shrugs, not even denying what his fans will do.

"Okay, show me how to do that and I'll follow you," I finally agree, handing him my phone while I type up my mean review. It's strange that I feel the need to do this, normally I would just read all the hate articles and cry in my bathroom but I guess Shawn gives me confidence I never thought I had to actually stand up for myself.

"There you go, you are officially following me." Shawn hands me back my phone and I scroll through my feed, right at the top is a picture of me on my computer that he must of just posted. Huh? Confusedly, I click on the image just so I don't accidentally scroll down while I read the caption.

'Fighting the haters with my girl💕😉'

I read the caption over several times before I started to scroll through the comments. Wow, there are millions of comments! Mostly hateful, confused girls but I didn't mind, I didn't even care that he posted a picture of me in a hobo outfit without my permission, because it's Shawn, and for some reason he doesn't anger me.

Maybe, the fact that he called me his girl erased all my worries and anger. Maybe, this new feeling of butterflies and happiness whenever I'm around Shawn is what is erasing all my worries and making an actual smile creep onto my lips.

Maybe, I like Shawn and I'm ready to accept it.