Shawn Mendes Imagines

Don't You Get It?

"This is getting ridiculous," Shawn shook his head, a look of anger mixed with sadness on his face as the two of us sat quietly on opposite sides of the couch.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Quickly wiping it away before Shawn saw, I took in a sharp breath.

"You keep getting yourself into messes with these guys, (y/n)," he explained, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw, "and I keep warning you, but do you listen? No!"

"I said I was sorry, Shawn," I mumbled, hating the fact that him yelling at me wasn't helping the situation or my state of mind.

"You just won't listen to any good advice, will you?" He stood up, running a hand through his hair and walking towards the window in the living room.

"I'm sorry," I repeated myself over and over again, the sound of my vain words driving me insane, "I'm sorry I'm such a mess up."

"And after each time you get heart-broken, you come running back to me," he scoffed, staring up at the dark night sky from the window.

"You know what," I got up, taking in a shaky breath as I wiped the stream of tears off of my face, "I'm sorry I came here, I'm sorry I thought you were the one person I could come to when I was upset."

"This is what I mean!" Shawn turned around, his voice resounding throughout the house, "don't turn this around on me!"

"I didn't-"

"Do you know what I have to go through too?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted together, his eyes burning with fury as he stared me down, "sitting around and watching you get hurt like this bothers me, (y/n), it really does."

I stayed quiet, my body shaking as it did whenever Shawn raised his voice.

"I can't stand to see you so broken, so helpless, and I want to help you, but I want to do more then that." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, slightly pulling at it.

"W-What do you mean?" I whispered, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Don't you get it, (y/n)? I like you! I've always been here for you, you always come running to me. I love you so fucking much and it kills me not being able to kiss you or be the one to tell you how much you mean to me!" He yelled, his voice becoming shakier with each word as I saw tears forming in his eyes.

"I want to be the one to make you feel like you're important, and special, so that you don't have to run to anyone when you're upset," he breathed, his voice softening, and tears sliding down his cheeks.

Placing my hands on his cheeks, I lightly wiped away his stream of tears with the pad of my thumbs, "Please, Shawn-"

"Why can't you understand?" He repeated, grabbing onto my wrists gently, "I'm the one for you."

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lately i've only been able to write sad imagines, they come so much easier...

-Rebecca