Shawn Mendes Imagines

Compensations

Gently placing a small diamond earring in each of my ears, I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, loving the way my dress flowed down to my feet, hugging my body in all the right places. It was a tight, lively red dress -- long sleeves accompanied by a long slit stopping at my upper thigh.

Shawn had requested that I dressed fancier than usual tonight, as he had planned out a very special dinner for the two of us. He loved taking me out on the weekends to a comedy movie or to grab a sundae at a local diner, but anniversaries were his ultimate favorite. He went big -- spending lavishly on lingerie and dinner reservations at the best restaurants in the country, five star hotels and flights out to different continents, but no matter how many times I told Shawn all I wanted for our anniversaries was alone time with him, he refused to settle for anything less than grand.

It made me happy though, knowing he was trying his best to take care of me. I knew his absences from home were the reason he felt the need to spoil me whenever he could.

Lately, he had been at the studio more than he had been at home. Sometimes he'd make plans with me, but cancel at the last second because his manager had asked him to record just one more song that night. It did upset me, I couldn't lie, but I was forever grateful that he had the opportunity to do what he loved for a living.

I turned around, catching a glimpse of a large photo frame enclosing a photo of me and Shawn on our wedding day. The image made me smile softly, running my fingertips over the edges of the frame before looking back at myself in the mirror. "I hope he thinks I look beautiful," I thought to myself, my hands smoothing out the soft material of the dress.

I took a seat on the bed, checking the digital clock on my bedside table as the time neared seven. Shawn had made reservations at seven thirty, and I figured he would be home soon. To my dismay, Shawn had not returned home by seven thirty. Or eight. Or nine.

I sighed in frustration. Shawn had missed out on our dates the past couple of weeks because of work, but I never thought he would skip out on the night of our anniversary. He had left no texts, no phone calls, no voice messages. Slowly reaching towards the braided up-do I had done with my hair, I pulled out each bobby pin, tossing them on the sheets beside me. My hair fell along my shoulders -- a curly mess.

Laying my head against the pillow, I shut my eyes, just as the front door opened. I could feel my heart sink as I glanced at the time. 10:43 P.M.

"Baby?" Shawn called quietly, practically running up the stairs after taking his shoes off by the front door. "Baby, are you home?"

"Yeah. In the bedroom," I mumbled quietly as Shawn suddenly appeared in the doorway. Clad in a tight, white button up, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, Shawn was undoing the black tie around his collar.

"Baby," he sighed, eyes scanning my body resting on the white duvet, "I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," I shook my head, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair. I took a glance up at him only to be met with his heavy eyes and frowning lips, "just disappointed."

"Princess, I am so, so, sorry," he pleaded, coming towards me and falling to his knees in front of me at the edge of the bed.

"It's okay, Shawn, really."

Although it wasn't okay, I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I was upset with him; I couldn't tell him how frustrated I was. Week after week he was letting me down, and I often spent more time alone than with him.

"Come here," he took my hand, standing up and pulling me off the bed and into his arms. Shawn looked me up and down, his eyes lighting up at my appearance.

"You still look beautiful. Absolutely stunning," he whispered, flashing a smile which I couldn't help but return.

"Thanks," I whispered as he took my waist in his arms while I laid my hands on his upper arms, resting my head on his chest.

"Gosh, I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am, princess," Shawn shook his head, his lips pressed together as we gently swayed back and forth in the dimly lit room. "Look at you. You look so gorgeous in this dress, a-and I hate that I missed our reservation. A-And I hate that I let you stay here all alone, and I-I just- I'm such a failure."

I pulled away to see his slowly rubbing his eyes while tears dripped down his cheeks, watching him sniffle quietly -- unable to hold in his emotions.

"Baby, don't cry," I whispered, reaching up and pulling his head into the crook of my neck, soothingly running my fingers through his thick mop of brown hair, "I know it's hard. I know you're trying. And I know you are not a failure; Don't you ever say that."

Shawn continued to sob quietly into my embrace while I stood there, still stroking his hair in an attempt to relax him. A few minutes passed by and his crying had ceased, leaving the silence of the room to be the loudest noise.

"I love you," he whispered, "how can I ever make it up to you, baby?"

"Well," I drew out the word while nodding towards the bed, before glancing back over to him and smirking.

Shawn quickly got the hint, winking and grinning excitedly. He planted a soft kiss on my lips before reaching for the zipper on my dress, "You got it, babe."

__________________________
im not even a fan of this one its really bad buttttttttt im out of ideas so. yeah.

-Rebecca