my savior - shawn mendes

The encounter

Sofia had always loved the quiet moments that came with the evening. The city streets, usually bustling with noise, were now softened by the amber glow of street lamps and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. She was walking home from a late shift at the café, her mind wandering as her sneakers tapped against the pavement in a steady rhythm. The world around her felt peaceful, almost serene, but there was an uneasy tension in the air—something she couldn't quite place.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the familiar sound breaking the silence. It was a message from her best friend, Mia:

"Be careful walking home tonight! I heard there's been some weird stuff going on around your area."

Sofia rolled her eyes, typing back a quick reply:

"I'm fine, Mia. I'm just a few blocks away. Stop worrying."

Still, the uneasy feeling lingered, like a shadow at the corner of her mind. She quickened her pace, telling herself she was just being paranoid. It was a quiet neighborhood, and nothing ever happened here. She was almost at the corner when she heard footsteps behind her.

At first, she ignored it, thinking it was just someone else on their way home, but then the footsteps grew louder—closer. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart skipping a beat. A man was following her, his stride purposeful and steady. His face was obscured by the hood of his jacket, but there was something about him that made her skin crawl.

Sofia's pace quickened, her instincts telling her to run. She could hear the man's footsteps speeding up, his breath growing more pronounced, and she knew—he was chasing her.

Panicking, Sofia's thoughts scrambled. Her phone. Could she call for help? But before she could reach for it, the man lunged forward, grabbing her arm with a tight grip.

"Hey, let go of me!" she shouted, her voice shaky with fear. She struggled against him, but his hold only tightened. Her mind raced, looking for an escape, but it was as if the world had closed in on her. She was alone, the street empty, and her heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst.

And then, out of nowhere, a figure appeared at the end of the street—a man, moving quickly, his movements sharp and determined. It was hard to make out his features in the low light, but Sofia could tell he was coming toward her. As he got closer, she realized he was taller than the man holding her, his posture confident, his steps purposeful.

"Let her go," the voice was calm but firm, cutting through the night like a blade.

The attacker hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough. In that instant, the stranger closed the distance between them, grabbing the man by the shoulder and spinning him around. A brief scuffle ensued, but the stranger was fast—too fast. Within seconds, the would-be kidnapper was on the ground, groaning in pain.

Sofia stood frozen, her breath shallow, her body trembling from head to toe. She couldn't move. She couldn't think. All she could do was watch as the man who had come to her rescue turned to face her, his features becoming clearer in the dim light. He was tall, with short dark hair and eyes that seemed both intense and reassuring at the same time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but full of concern.

Sofia nodded, unable to form words. The reality of what had almost happened crashed over her like a wave, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. He was still standing in front of her, as though making sure she was safe, his posture protective and unwavering.

"I—I think so. Thank you..." Sofia's voice cracked, and she wiped her eyes, feeling a mix of relief and disbelief. "You... you saved me."

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I wasn't about to let anything happen to you."

Sofia glanced back at the man on the ground, who was starting to stir, and then at the stranger in front of her. Her heart was still racing, but there was a part of her that felt a strange calm now. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Who... who are you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering his answer. "My name's Shawn," he said finally, offering her a half-smile. "And I think I'm in the right place at the right time."