20 ○ shawn

10

In Shawn's room, 5:30 pm 

February 20, 2015

Two weeks.  

It's been two weeks since Layla and Shawn last saw each other, or last spoken with each other. 

Shawn laid on his bed, his eyes making contact with his ceiling. It was Friday; his friends had invited him to come over just to hang out, but Shawn declined. He wasn't in the mood - he never seemed to be in the mood. It started two weeks ago. 

He was sad once again. He has always been sad, but ever since Layla was gone, things got more severe, and his mind often shifted back to the memory of when he was going to jump off the abandoned building. To add to the memory, he was even considering finishing what he started. 

But he didn't, he couldn't; he could barely even get off his bed to eat his dinner. It seemed like all the energy he used to have was drained out. Layla was his energy, with her jumpy mood and her persuasion skills. 

He needed Layla back.

"God, I fucked up..." He whispered to himself, putting his hands over his face whilst sighing exasperatedly. Tears coated his eyes and made them glossy, but no tear escaped. 

Shawn knew that it was his fault that the two were no longer talking, and he knew that he was supposed to apologize, but he didn't know how. Even though Layla was the type of person to forgive easily, Shawn didn't want her to forgive him easily. He wanted to do something special. 

Layla probably isn't going to forgive me. I bet she hates me. There's nothing I can do to make her my best friend again. God, I'm so stupid! Fuck you, fuck you, fu- oh wait! 

Shawn removed his hands that were covering his face and sat up, his eyes darting to the corner of his room, where a guitar was being held by a guitar stand. He pursed his lip, pondering about the idea, but he decided to go along with it, no matter how embarrassing it might be. 

But anything to bring his best friend back into his life, he would do as much as the impossible. 

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