Shawn Mendes Imagines

I've Got You (Part 2)

hey everyone! I hope you're all doing well in these crazy times! I've been spending a lot of time hiking and swimming and doing as much as I can to stay active without actually working out (because ew). I decided since I have so much free time this would be as good a time as any to check out my wattpad page! I had this draft going and thought I might as well finish it :) so I hope you all enjoy.

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Shawn's POV

I stride through the double doors of the hospital, wind causing my curls to go wild and fall over my eyes, sticking out in every direction. I scan the area, searching for a front desk.

The woman behind the desk was finishing up a phone call, so I shove my hands in my pockets, walk towards where she sits, and patiently wait for her to finish. For the first time since I woke up this morning, I could catch a breath.

"Okay, thank you," the woman scribbles something down on her notepad, ripping it off the stack and sticking it to the top of her computer. "I'll have her call you as soon as she's out of the meeting. Thanks again."

She hangs up the phone, immediately averting her green eyes to meet mine. "Sorry about that sir. How can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm here to visit a patient," I calmly explain with a kind smile. "I was just getting my visitor's pass."

"Alright," she reaches across the desk and grabs a stack of stickers, pulling up a file on her computer. "What's the patient's name?"

"Uh, Y/F/N," I answer, raising my eyebrows. I picture Y/N's face as soon as her name left my lips, remembering her features. Her tired eyes, quivering lips, small dainty hands that trembled. Just by looking at her, I could tell she has a beautiful smile. I just haven't seen it yet.

"And your name?" the woman asks me.

"Shawn Mendes," I answer, and proceed to quickly spell out both my first and last name, because even though you'd think I'd be accustomed enough to the misspelling of my name to not care anymore, it still bothers me.

"The patient is in room 37B. Do you know how to get there?" She asks me, pushing her dark colored glasses up so I could see her eyes a bit better.

"Yes ma'am, thank you," I respond, already on my way toward the west elevators.

Y/N should expect me by now. This is my fifth visit since she's been staying here, which has only been a few days. Ever since I saved her life on the bridge that day, it's been increasingly difficult to get her out of my head. I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around what she's going through. What she's been going through her whole life.

I just want to understand. I want to be there for her and help her get through this, because I can't imagine facing these things alone. And from what I've seen, she has no one.

As I approach her room, I comb through my hair with my fingers in attempt to keep it from falling over my forehead. I reach into my pocket and pull out a stick of gum, unwrapping it and folding it into my mouth. You can never be too careful. No one likes bad breath.

I'm just about to walk in when a deep, booming voice on the other side of the door startles me. I don't recognize this voice at all. As far as I knew, Y/N didn't have any visitors besides me.