Shawn Mendes Imagines

Old & Gray

You step through the swinging door of the city coffee shop on that windy afternoon, the air brisk around you until halting at the close of the door behind you.

You find a small, vacant table near the window and ease into the seat, hanging your leather-bound purse by the straps on the back of your chair. Resting your elbows on the table, you heave a sigh, your throat tight.

You knew you couldn't stall yourself any longer, that at some point, you had to go home. You had to see him.

You had to tell him.

But each second, it became more difficult than the last to do so. You couldn't face him, his anxious grin and bright, benign eyes, expecting good news that would soon receive quite the opposite.

You avert your eyes to the people passing by outside the window, at the skyline and the shops and cars breezing by, the day going on and on while you sit here and reminisce, alone. Terribly alone.

Just when you were thinking about taking the bullet and just calling his mobile, your phone started buzzing in your purse.

You fish it out, not surprised to see your apprehensive husband's face displayed on the screen, so blissfully unaware.

You go straight for hello, saying it quickly and quietly so he can't hear the hurt in your tone.

"Hey," he responds without hesitation. "I haven't heard from you all day. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lie. "My phone died and I just got to a charger at the coffee shop on Hillside."

"Oh," he sighs in relief, pausing for a moment on the other line. "How'd the appointment go?"

Awry. Like a nightmare. Dreadful. Appalling. Distressing. Heartbreaking. Earth-shattering.

"It went okay. The doctor was nice, good service. Nothing too awkward. Nice, clean, place."

"M-hmm," he hums, clearing his throat soon after. "Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Did you find out what's going on?" he breathes, clearly awaiting an actual answer. "Good news? Bad news? You can't just leave me hanging like this."

You sink your teeth into your lower lip and shake your head. This was it. You had to tell him. There was no other way to avoid it, he had to find out eventually.

You open your mouth to speak, but the moment the first letter of the first word slips off your tongue, the shattering capability hits you like a thousand needles. Your eyes begin to sting, your throat constricting all in one force that overpowers you at once.

"Sweet girl.. " Shawn's voice on the other line startles you, as you had forgotten you were still holding your phone against your cheek. His next sigh came out uneasy, shaky. "Oh, no.. "

He knew.

"I'll be there soon," he says softly, and before you could refuse him, the line already went dead.

You bury your face in the crease of your arms, resting on the table-- remotely, achingly alone. It was suddenly unbearable, for a moment, the tears soaking your forearms in large quantities.

You didn't care who was looking. You just couldn't stand it, and had to let it out.

After a few minutes, you were still, and deafeningly silent. But you lay there, head slumped over the table, motionless and limp like a puppet without a host.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the knocking on the window right next to you fills your ears. Shawn was standing on the other side, his forehead pressed against the glass, brown eyes gleaming in the reflection as a small, uncanny grin spread across his face.

You laugh, even though the task seemed like a chore with your watery red eyes and stained cheeks.

He walks towards the entrance, and you follow his figure. He winks at you from across the room, before half-walking, half-jogging up to the counter and numbing something, sliding across a ten dollar bill of purple Canadian money.

"Hey, cuddlebug," he says softly as soon as he was close enough to you, stopping at the table.

"Did you just order me coffee?"

He blushes. "That sounds a lot better than what I actually did, which is order me coffee."

"You're so caring."

He spins around and goes back to the front desk, laying down more money and pointing to something on the menu. You suppress a laugh and roll your eyes as he makes his way back to the table, sitting down across from you.

He didn't say anything at first. He just sat in silence, staring at your hands, resting on the table top-- in his reach. He didn't grab them, though. Not right away.

"This situation has filled me with grief," he finally says. "I was afraid of this. I was so, so, so afraid of this. But I just didn't show it, you know? Because you were worried, and it was best that at least one of us was calm. But I was so terrified that this could be real, and.. and it is, huh? It really is."

"It's not supposed to be like this," you scoff, hoping to keep the tears back where they belong but failing when you feel your eyes start to well up again. "You're supposed to meet someone, fall in love, and have firsts. First house, first kid, first family vacation. Life is supposed to go on, not limit you."

Shawn stops to think about that, his temples constricted in a way you've grown used to. His eyes begin to turn pink, too, and finally, his hand brushes atop yours and grips your fingers loosely.

"But it's okay," he nods, his voice raspy, hoarse. He nods again. "It's okay, because this isn't the end. It kills me that I can't give you a baby, no matter how hard I try. But, we still have each other, cuddlebug. We'll always, always always have each other."

"And," he adds, "it's not like we don't have any options left. There's sperm donations, adoption, whatever we decide. I want to have a kid with you, that's the bottom line. And we're going to have a kid, regardless of how we get it."

You shake your head, a smile playing on your lips. You couldn't believe how lucky you were.

"We could be like Carl and Ellie from Up," you look down at your hands, and grip his even tighter. "Spend our lives together until we're old and gray."

"I'd love that," he raises your knuckle to his lips and plants a kiss there. "Except don't you go dying on me before we get to have adventures."

***

if you didn't pick up on what happened, the two of you have been trying to have a baby but you don't work well together. for lack of better phrasing, shawn's no good @ giving, & you can barely receive.

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