For Worse or For Better (Shawn Mendes)

Three Little Words

Cause I've got three little words that I've always been dying to tell you.
—One Direction

Like every day at three o'clock, I slump into the hospital, my backpack hanging off one shoulder.

But as I get closer and closer to Shawn's room, I realize something is different. This isn't like the three weeks I have been doing this every day without fail.

Something is off.

I crash into Shawn's room and he is the first thing I see.

There he is, lying in the bed, motionless like all the other times I have come to see him.

His tousled brown hair.

He's defined jawline, more noticeable than ever.

His pale face, whiter than a sheet of snow.

His muscular body, hidden beneath the comforter.

But again, something is different.

There's a nurse at his bedside, taking the needles and tubes out of him, moving the heart monitor away from the bed.

And then what is different hits me like a brick.

There's one thing different about Shawn.

The sheets he's under are not moving up and down with the usual rise and fall of his shallow breaths.

A sound like a strangled cat escapes my lips and the nurse whirls around, startled.

"Oh," she says, her grim expression darkening. "It's just you. Hello, Skylar."

"W-w-what a-are y-you d-d-doing?" I stutter, my chest heaving, my mind spinning with jumbled thoughts.

The nurse drops the cloth she is holding and comes over to me with sad eyes. "I'm so sorry," she mutters.

I shake my head. "No, you're not sorry. You can't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about."

The nurse looks as pained as I feel.

"He's dead, Skylar. I'm so so sorry, honey."

And then my heart shatters into a million tiny pieces.

I fall to the floor and let my entire body go limp. I sob, big racking sobs, my face in my hands. I scream. I scream and scream and won't stop, even when the nurse tries to pull me to my feet.

My head feels numb, my mind blank. My entire body trembles with jitters of bad electricity, my heart exploding over and over.

It can't be true.

Shawn can not be dead. Yet, he is and I can't do a damn thing about it.

I don't know how long I sit there shrieking, but I don't stop until out of my peripheral vision, I see it happen in slow motion.

Tyler slow-motion-sprints into the room, his eyes wide with horror. I see his lips moving as his eyes scan the room, but I can't hear a thing.

And then I see the realization hit him and he slides to the floor, his strong arms immediately going around my thrashing body. He kisses my forehead over and over until he just keeps his mouth pressed there, trying to calm me.

He holds me until I have completely lost my voice and can't talk for the life of me, which could've been hours.

He just sits there and rocks me in his arms, my tears soaking every inch of his body.

*****

It has been five hours.

That's how long I'd sat in Tyler's arms, screaming my head off.

And then two more hours that I just sat there and stared, not able to move a muscle.

"Skylar," Tyler whispers now, his arms loosening around me.

"I can't, Tyler. I can't live without him."

The realization hits me square in the face as if it flew out of no where.

I can't live without Shawn.

Tyler hauls me to my feet and practically drags me to Shawn's bed. I touch his face, as cold as ice.

I yank my hand back, startled by the coldness of his face.

His gorgeous features stand out more than ever in the dim light  of the room and I can't help but flash back to all of our good, and bad, times.

Kissing at the picnic.

Stuck in the school during the storm.

Playing the Ten Question game.

Throwing rocks at his window.

Fighting off his dad.

Fighting on his lawn about Miles.

Walking to school.

Taking tours with him.

Chasing him across the football field to find out that he liked me.

The first time I met him in the principals office and being awed by his looks and his seemingly horrible personality.

Getting to know the real him and finding out that somewhere in between those memories, I had grown to love him just the way he is.

Love him.

I love him.

And as a tear falls on his cheek, I whisper, "I love you Shawn Peter Raul Mendes."

And then I slouch into his chest, taking in the scent of his unique cologne that still hangs on him, though it's been three weeks.

And I can't help but start to sob again, my head bobbing on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart.

The rhythmic beating of his heart? 

A surge of hope and relief shoots through me, quickly shadowed by fear.

And then as raspy as I'd always remembered it, a voice breaks the silence of my crying. "I love you too, Sky Healy."

Authors Note- OMG did you really think he'd die?!?! Lol sorry it's been so long-lots of hw and sports and tests and annoying stuff like that. Enjoy!