Travel // Shawn Mendes

sixteen

As I rouse from a heavy slumber, I'm first aware of the slight weight across my stomach. My eyes open slowly as I blink momentarily to bring myself back to reality, and I inhale a long, deep breath, that fills my lungs thoroughly before taking in my surroundings, my eyes mindlessly squinting at the bright rays of light that seemed to burst through the window, signaling that it was morning.

I look around without moving an inch, viewing the unmade bed, the door handle that was jiggling, the flat screen television, and the dark men's tennis shoes across from me, set neatly across from each other. I shut my eyes again, still worn-out and ready to go back to sleep for another hour, but it's all short lived as the memories from last night swarm my mind, and my eyes widen.

That's when it registers as to where I am, and I gulp, looking down to see what the pressure on my stomach was. Sure enough, an arm was draped across me, and my heart begins to pound.

The door handle was still jiggling, and I take no time in easing my way out of Shawn's arms, gently grabbing his wrist and lifting it off of me, then pulling my body away from where it was once pressed up against his, departing from the couch I unknowingly feel asleep on.

The moment I'm up, Shawn begins to stir, putting his hands through his thick hair, until he freezes, then looking my way.

"Good morning." He says sweetly, wiping his eyes and stretching his arms out, then pushing himself to sit on the couch we were laying cozily on only a moment ago.

I almost forget about the incoming person, before they knock on the door three times, obviously impatient on Shawn answering, and our eyes go wide at the same time.

This was not going to look good to whoever was on the other side, and I feel my breath hitch in my lungs. Shawn's hair was messed up and he was clearly in sleepwear, while I had no doubt my hair was just as untidy as his, and it seemed to be early morning, so neither of us could play off that I had just come for a visit. No, to anyone walking in, this would not look good at all.

Shawn swears under his breath, and I don't take time to listen in to any ideas he may have when I hear the beeping from the door, signaling a rejected key card. Instead, I walk out of the bedroom area, spotting a part of the wall that was cut and behind the rest of it. I go over to it, my heart racing, and luckily enough it opens, revealing a small closet behind its sliding door. Shawn is watching when I slip myself into the space, and before he can walk away to answer the door, I peep my head over and give him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, good morning!" I respond lately, and the corners of his mouth turn up before I put my head back inside the closet and slide the wall shut, then hearing Shawn's footsteps fade away.

The door opens and I hear Shawn greet the person, their voices muffled as they talk amongst each other for about five minutes. As they do, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to replay the prior night, not knowing how I had fallen asleep in Shawn's arms. It baffled me, because I couldn't recall the moment, or any moment, where I felt myself drifting off into rest. Not to mention that I was just a little sour I didn't get to sleep on the soft mattress.

I feel myself holding my own breaths when the two voices come closer, and try to distract myself by looking around the cramped space I was in, before acknowledging that it wasn't going to do me any good, since the area was practically pitch black, the only light coming from a narrow crack underneath the hidden closet door.

"You know that, right? I mean, I'm not your mom, but you gotta get to that interview, dude."

"I'll be fine, it's in two hours." Shawn responds coolly, and my prying eyes begin to wish that I could see who was having this conversation with him. The voice was distinctively male, however I don't think I had ever heard it before, since it came off much deeper than Shawn or Aidan's voices combined.