Shawn Mendes Imagines

Your Little Gifts

y'all i have so many emotions & ik this ain't a diary or blog & i know y'all didn't sign up for this but I'M PRETTY SURE SHAWN WOULDNT TREAT ME THE WAY GUYS HAVE BEEN TREATING ME LATELY i mean gOD

also can we just take a sec to appreciate kylie jenner's burgundy palette ^

***

You slip the small, copper key into the keyhole of the door, turning it slowly, easy-- careful not to make too much noise. You knew your family was well asleep by now.

Just as you had told your loving husband of ten years, Shawn, you were going out with your three best friends for a Girl's Night at the bowling alley downtown. You promised him you would get back early enough to tuck your daughter into bed.

As you step through the doorway gracefully, stealthily shutting the front door behind you and turning towards the stairs, you adjust your purse over your shoulder and remove the lacey high heels from your feet one at a time, carrying them in your right hand upstairs.

You creep down the hallway, as silently as you could manage. You open each door one at a time, starting with your six year old daughter, Amira. The soft stroke of light from the hallway casting the shadow of your head on the wall behind where she lay sleeping, her eyes fluttered, chest rising and falling.

Sound asleep already.

You slowly close the polished white wooden door, struggling to avoid the squeaking of the doorknob as you released your grip.

The door to your bedroom was wide open, the light on.

You take a deep breath, managing to push past the gulp fighting at the front of your throat. As you step out of the hallway and into the deep, dark forest, the menacing, strangely unfamiliar-- there he was, plenty awake, sitting on the edge of the full-sized bed with a piece of paper in his hands.

He must've felt your eyes land on him, because slowly, his head lifted, narrowing his gaze on where you stand.

"What's that?" you ask, referring to the paper, speaking at a tone not far past a whisper.

He shrugs, his eyes exhausted. "Where have you been?"

You set down your things on top of the dresser, crossing the plush carpeted room to get to the closet doors.

"Like I told you," you said, "I was out with the girls."

"All night?" the ping of annoyance in his voice jars you sullenly.

You stare at him. He was back to looking over the thing in his strong hands, a stiff sheet of yellow construction paper.

You glance at the alarm clock on Shawn's nightstand, the obvious glow of the red numbers displaying the time.

"It's only 11:41," you reason, peeling off your silky-smooth violet dress, which ran to your mid-thighs. You replace it with a light grey Hogwarts t-shirt that you snatch from Shawn's side of the closet.

"You promised you would tuck her into bed," Shawn argues, his voice stiffened, thick. He wasn't happy with you. You wished he would've simply gone to bed like he normally does when you come home late. It was so peculiar that he'd waited for you.

"Well, we were just having so much fun, we didn't realize the time. We wanted to play another round."

He groans under his breath in response, standing up and crossing the room to get to the master bathroom doors, stopping right in front of you and handing over the yellow sheet of paper without saying a word, or even looking up at you.