Travel // Shawn Mendes

twenty-two

"Hey."

"Set your alarm at the wrong time? You were supposed to come around seven pm, not am."

Although most people crack jokes when they were happy, I had the habit of tracing sarcasm over my words whenever I was angry. This was one of those times.

Shawn Mendes was standing in front of my face, dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, and with flowers in his hand.

Gag me now.

"Nora, I am so sorry," he starts, but I stay silent, just staring at him.

When I was angry, it was usually for a good reason. So unless he was about to explain why he ghosted on me last night, hostility was what he was getting.

"Listen, you really don't have to forgive me. I did a really dick move. But I am really sorry," he looks me in the eyes for only a moment when he says this, and I could tell just how uncomfortable he felt while apologizing.

"Care to explain?" I ask, and he looks down at the floor, then speaking.

"It's going to sound like an awful excuse."

"Oh, good! Those are my favorite types of excuses anyways," I respond, leaning on the doorway and waiting for him to speak again.

"Well, somehow everyone found out about what hotel I was staying at, and it was crowded with fans. I tried going out from the back, but they saw me and I couldn't just decline taking pictures with them, so I did."

"So you spent like, two hours taking pictures with your fans?" I question, clarifying what he was saying. There was no anger in my voice, and I watched him interestedly.

"Yeah."

I studied the faces of people whenever I spoke to them, and I had studied Shawn's enough to tell that he wasn't hiding anything from me.

"Okay."

Shawn looks up, confuse written all over his face.

"Wait, you're not mad?"

"Oh, furious."

"I got you flowers?" Shawn says this like a question, and I stare at him with the same blank expression.

"I'm allergic to flowers."

I had never seen a face turn more red than Shawn's at that time, and he gazed at the flowers he held in embarrassment before looking back up.

"Really?"

"No," I reach for them, taking a deep breath of their floral scent and watching the arrangement of colors as I spin the bouquet slowly and speak.

"You're welcome to come inside, by the way. My friend is passed out and probably won't be awake for a good amount of time," I step aside from the doorway and admire the flowers discreetly for only a second as Shawn walks in and shuts the door behind him.

"So, do you ever have to take pictures of other people who don't want a picture with you?" I ask, starting conversation while he sits on Annalise's dirt brown sofa and I reach into one of her many cabinets to grab a long glass vase I saw in there yesterday.

"Actually, one time a girl wanted a picture with my bodyguard, so I had to take it on her phone," he responds, and I smile, then trying to cover it with a grimace.

"Oof. That must have hurt."

"I cried for days," he jokes.

I grin at his humor as I fill the vase with water, then hearing the sound of buzzing and turning away from the sink.