☁️: ...as promised.
*warning* this chapter contains mention of sexual assault & domestic violence
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Minnie's ride home had been filled to the brim with music at the highest volume. For years, she'd contested Harry Styles' claim that "comfortable silence is so overrated." Now, she could see he was right. All this time, he was so right, and she knew it as she blasted every song that wasn't his, just out of spite. She could feel every beat in the vibration of her entire car, rattling her bones and her brain in an attempt to speak over any thoughts she had.
It's just one thing after another. Was she a human being with emotion? Or a plot device for a Jane Austen novel? One shall never know.
One shall also never know Shawn's true intentions. The man she'd placed so much of her trust into despite her own lack of trustworthiness. Minnie had tricked him, and she'd known that. It was more of a circumstance of being backed into a corner. Learned behaviors last forever unless battled with deconstruction, and Minnie had none of that. So, being the impulsive liar that she was, she got scared and lied to save herself from the outcome of a simple "no." Thus, getting herself stuck in a relationship void of any real love, but was close enough to the real thing. Her so-called lover could never suffice in comparison to her last but we don't talk about that.
She had been utterly convinced that if she just faked it for the time being, she'd obtain her happy ending. A happy ending to top off a tragic beginning would be nothing short of poetic justice. Of course, she'd ended up the villain of her own story... or at least, that's what she'd believed.
So very recently did she learn Shawn could potentially be her true antagonist. It was the plot twist of the century for clueless Minavea, as she was forced to imagine that she'd been going home... and going to bed with the person who'd hurt her... and to make it worse, she wouldn't have had a clue if not for Dan. She'd even given Shawn a chance to admit it and he lied to her face... or did he? She trusted him with her life, so why would he lie? He could have and he couldn't have.
She would have to find out on her own, something she decided with the shutting of the front door... to the home that she'd shared with Shawn.
She'd turned to find a candlelit entryway. What was bland before now flickered with every motion she made. This has to be a fire hazard, what is going on here?
"Shawn?" She called.
No answer.
She flicked off her shoes, looking down only to discover a multitude of rose petals layering the ground in a path leading into the rest of the house.
Um?
She followed, more anxiety than excitement invading her thought cycle. What was this for and why? And now? Now, out of all times??
The path led to the piano room, and in it sat the man of the hour at the bench, his head down as his concentration was fixed on the fidgeting of his hands. He was dressed in black slacks and a well-pressed white button-up, so elegant in contrast to the sweatpants she was used to seeing him in. He looked good, and she knew that. Even more so, he looked sweet, his leg bouncing like he was nervous. He looked like the Shawn she's always known— the honest and sincere one that put his heart into every spoken and written word. God, how she hoped he'd stay true to the portrait of him that she'd painted in her head. It'll make faking easier, and the fact that she can't let go of her perception of him just makes leaving harder.
"Shawn." She spoke upon finding him.
"Minnie." His head perked up at the sound of her voice.
Act naturally. It's Shawn, you know Shawn... right?
