Shawn Mendes Imagines

broken arm pt. 2

    When you pull into the driveway, you look over snd see Shawn asleep, gently resting his head on the window, the pain medication setting in. It must've been a rough day for him. You shake him awake and give him a gentle smile, "we're home". You make your way over to his door and help him up, he insists he can walk on his own, but it would take him all night at the pace he's going. You unlock the door, and turn around to see Shawn to have hardly moved, looking as if he's about to fall asleep or collapse in pain right in the middle of the driveway. You walk back to him and go to wrap his arm around you for support, he pulls away.
    "N-no, its fine, I-I got ittt" he mumbles his eyes half shut.
   "Alright let's see it then"you chuckle, and step away, this is gonna be interesting.
   He goes to take one step, and almost tumbles over, its a pretty funny scene, you laugh as he goes to keep walking stumbling with each heavy step, his body practically sways with grogginess. Afraid he's gonna hurt himself and you'll end up back at the ER, you go to try and help him out. He resists at fist, wanting to be independent you suppose, until he gives in and almost all of his weight is on top of you as you trudge to the front door.
"Shawn it would help if you walked a little." you say struggling, he stays quiet, did he fall asleep on you?
   He sloppily collapses on the couch as you go to grab a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants for him.
    "Shawn, I got you some fresh clothes if you want to change", he turns his neck and gazes up at you, chest down on the couch. "Will you help me?" he asks pouting.
    "Yes", you replying laughing a little. A small crooked smile swipes across his face. "Theres that cute smile I've missed" you say excitedly, his cheeks blushing. You go to pull of his jeans, ripped and torn (James TW amirite?) from his crash, his pants are so tight it feels like you are playing tug o' war with his pants. "Geez, ya think your pants are tight enough?" you ask as you tumble on the floor, the pants finally giving in. Shawn chuckles under his breath. You try to help him slip into his sweatpants, you doing most of the work, eventually you wriggle him in, still lightly wincing in pain every now and then. You un-do his sling, and slip off his dirt stained shirt, revealing bandages and bruises. You frown, running you fingers over his chest "baby..." you mumble, he smiles with regret, knowing he messed up. You slide a clean plain, grey, Canada tee over his head. He looks pretty cozy, if you do say so yourself. He lays back on the couch as you see sleep almost immediately take over his body, all his muscles relaxing.