Danger's Back; Shawn Mendes Edition

25

Kelsey's Point of View:

"No, don't go." Shawn moaned in protest as he clung onto me, face buried into the crook of my neck as his arm slung over my mid-section, baring my body to his.

Giggling, I turned my head to look down at him, my arm buried under his weight slowly peeling away as I awkwardly patted the back of his head, "I have to Shawn."

"No you don't," He shot back, "Can't you skip or something? You've done it plenty of times before." Pulling me in closer if that were even possible, Shawn began layering gentle kisses at the base of my neck.

Scowling, I inched away from the touch of his lips, "Don't you dare, Mendes." I spat, "It's not going to work this time."

Shooting his head up, Shawn arched his brows, "Mendes? Since when did you refer to me like that again?" Fighting the urge to laugh, he bit down on his lip, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Pursing my lips, I narrowed my eyes at him, "Don't try to change the subject!"

"I'm not," He laughed, "I'm being serious, baby. I haven't heard you say that in a long time. It's sorta sexy," Wiggling his eyebrows, he bent down to grab hold of me but before he could, I moved my head away so that his lips pressed to my cheek.

Growling, he looked at me with hooded eyes, "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

I pushed at his chest, relieved to see him move back reluctantly as I held myself up on my elbows, my face leveled with his in a way, "I have to Shawn. If I'm late, I'll get kicked out of the course and I can't afford to fail. I spent a lot of money on these classes Shawn."

Drifting so that his forehead pressed to mine, I felt the familiar pack of butterflies swarm my stomach as he pouted his bottom lip, a look of innocence taking over his entire demeanor.

"You're so cute," I commented with another giggle, kissing him gently before pulling away entirely, removing myself from under him and off the bed, "but I'm still going to school."

Groaning, Shawn threw himself down on the bed, his hands held behind his head as he gazed over at me, "I hate you."

"Careful," I seethed sharply, ignoring his remark as the protective side that I've grown particularly used to over the course of the last two weeks came out, "Or you'll risk hurting yourself."

"Babe, I'm fine," he rolled his eyes, sighing, "The doctor said so himself yesterday."

"The doctor also said not to move around too much or you'll pull at something and risk being admitted to the hospital again." Laying my hands to my hips, I bit the inside of my cheek, "You were shot Shawn and you can't just recover quickly. You seem to forget that."

"You also seem to forget that I'm used to this shit by now. This isn't the first time I've been shot you know."

Wincing at his words, I shook my head, pushing the thought from my mind. I refuse to imagine him younger than he was with a bullet inside of him, "Don't." I hissed.

"You're going to have to move past it sooner or later." He pointed out monotonously as his eyes watched me move around the room, throwing clothes aside carelessly as I tried to find my outfit for the day. I doubt I'd look presentable in class with a pair of checkered pajama shorts and a lose V-neck.

"Yeah? Well I choose later." I mumbled irritably, deciding on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that had the word "Harvard" written across it in big, bolded, matted letters. Undressing myself, I pulled on each article of clothing before slipping my feet in a pair of moccasins.