Shawn Mendes Imagines

Has Your Eyes

so close to 1M can you hear me screeching (!!!!)

***

There were probably around fifteen to twenty people lined up outside in the hall, their backs pressed to the wall with brochures gripped tightly to their chests. Everyone in the building had told their friends and family about the apartment opening, and you had heard just in time from one of your old friends from high school via Instagram.

The real estate agent was shaking hands with someone near the front of the line, and everyone else was speaking with one another or chatting away on the phone. You adjust your one year old daughter on your hip, having failing to contact a babysitter on such short notice, and step into the line.

After merely a few more minutes of waiting, and the accomplishment of managing to keep your daughter quiet the whole time, the real estate woman turned the key and opened the door, allowing people to pile in single file.

You stroll through slowly, taking in the closed space that, after a while of looking, seemed to be exactly what you've been looking for. It was two bedroom, one where you'd sleep and the other that you can transform into a nursery. It even had two bathrooms, one full and one half-bath. On top of that, it was affordable.

You instantly felt an urge to fill out an application as soon as possible. All you wanted to do was scribble your name on that lease and call this place yours, proving once and for all that you're strong enough to do this alone.

As you make your way out of the back bedroom, headed towards the real estate agent leaning over the kitchen counter, you spot something out of the corner of your eye. Or, rather, someone.

You narrow your gaze on the strikingly familiar brunette, brown eyed boy, standing upright in the center of the living room with his arms stretched wide to measure the space.

He was clad in a black and red checkered flannel, buttoned to the top-- his dark hair that on any other occasion was disheveled and falling over his eyes was quiffed up neatly and perfectly in place.

You didn't know what to do, so you simply stand there like an idiot, staring-- blinking repeatedly. You wanted to leave, but you couldn't stop gawking at the sight of seeing the irresponsible, reckless teenaged boy who refused to take responsibility for his mistakes-- an image you'd unintentionally kept frozen in your head for the past year and nine months.

But that boy was standing only a few feet away now, and he could now almost pass for, well, a man. A young man. A gentleman, perhaps.

He casts a glance upwards quickly, turning away all at once. But once again, he returns his curious gaze to you, and suddenly his round eyes go wide in recognition.

You wanted to run away, race down the hallway, carry your toddler down the stairs and to the car parked on the curb and speed all the way back to your current home. You wanted to escape his captivating gape, but you were unable to make the communication of your head with your body.

"Y/N?" he steps towards you at a turtle's pace, and you pull your daughter tightly to your torso. He furrows his eyebrows, eyes locked on yours. "W-what are you doing here?"

Your eyes briefly drift around the room, and you distract yourself with the leather strap of your handbag as you avoid his stare, stuttering, "I, um-- I.. I was looking for a new p-place to live."

You look up, seeing him slowly avert his eyes from you to the one year old balancing on your hip, and he gasps softly.

"Is that.. is that--?"

"Willow," you manage to mumble, nodding along and finally feeling your clarity return. "And yeah, she is."

"Willow," he repeats quietly, his bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. "Does she have a middle name?"

You clear your throat. "Yeah, uh.. it's Grace."

You'd felt ridiculous saying that. You'd always imagined your life as a young girl, picturing yourself with a husband and beautiful children and a happy ever after. Somehow this never jumped to mind in the consideration of events. Introducing your child to her father.

It was so terribly absurd, and you knew that you should feel some sort of anger or annoyance towards the situation. You thought frequently about the day that you would encounter Shawn again, and you thought you'd have a well paying job and a good, triumphant life to rub in his loser face.

But you didn't want to rub anything in. You just wanted him to see his daughter, and feel something. And as you could obviously tell, there was something there. Something in his eyes.

"Willow Grace," he whispers, pressing his glossy lips together and giving off a small smile. "That fits her."

"Yeah," you agree.

"She has your eyes, Y/N," he acknowledges, stepping closer to her and crouching down to get a better look. Willow had her eyes widened as well, her tiny mouth agape as she outstretched her arm to touch the minimum amount of stubble on Shawn's chin.

He grins, chuckling at her actions. He coos, "not long enough to pull, not yet."

You couldn't help but smile at their interaction.

"You did a really good job, Y/N," Shawn rises to his height, rubbing his nose as his expression drops and he turns away. "Um, I shouldn't be here. I, um, good luck. W-with the apartment, I mean. I--"

"Shawn, wait," you stop him, and couldn't believe what you were about to do. You couldn't deny the small spark of hope in your heart after seeing the way he looked at Willow. You just wanted to give him a little bit more.

You slowly set Willow down on the plush carpeted floor, who had just learned to take a few steps on her own recently. You bend down and help her to stand up, and Shawn watches intently, his eyes watering.

"Shawn," you murmur, "crouch down."

He obeys, dropping to his knees and backing up to create more distance between you.

"Okay," you whisper to Willow, "go, go! Go to Daddy! C'mon, you can do it!"

Shawn's eyes well up again, and he wipes his cheek with his sleeve at the word you had just chosen to use. You both watch as Willow crosses the space in the middle, stumbling only at the end and landing directly into Shawn's embrace.

You both cheer and clap your hands, not worried about who you may be distracting around you. Shawn hugs her closely to his chest, his hands trembling with joy. You felt your eyes begin to sting, too.

Shawn looks up at you then, still supporting Willow so she could continue to stand, "Hey Y/N?"

You bite your bottom lip. "Yeah?"

"Um, it's okay if you say no, but.. " he looks from you to Willow, then back to you, "would you live here with me?"

You were taken back, fiddling with your fingers as they drop to your lap. You didn't expect that at all. "I don't know, Shawn. I mean, I barely know you anymore.."

"I know," he shakes his head. "God, Y/N, I screwed up so bad. I missed out on so much, but I really.. I don't want to miss out on anymore."

He returns his eyes to Willow, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of her. He softly brushes her small amount of hair with his palm, sighing. "I just want to be there for everything. I know it might be too late, but--"

"No," you shut your eyes tightly. "It's not. I want you to be there, too, Shawn."

You could feel his happiness then, see it in his eyes as he laughed with his daughter. It was kind of beautiful the way that he held her, making up for lost time.

He looks up at you again and scoffs, "you know, Y/N," he smirks. "You used to call me Daddy, too."

***

1M is so many I'm actually choking