Shawn Mendes Imagines

XVII ✧ COLORBLIND

  

  The sound of my window sliding open in the middle of the night woke me.

  I sat up, looking around in the darkness. I couldn't really see anything, but I knew that he was there.

  "What's wrong?" I rubbed my eyes as I felt his weight dip into the foot of my bed. He didn't say anything. He simply grabbed me, pulling me into a tight hug. He smelt like alcohol.

  "Were you drinking?" I furrowed my eyebrows. He still didn't speak. I grew frustrated and reached over, turning on the lamp that was on my nightstand. My eyes grew wide when I took in his appearance.

  His clothes were dirty and his eyes were bloodshot. There was blood splattered on his hands and face. I began to panic. I got up and closed my room door, so my parents wouldn't hear us.

  "Shawn, what the hell happened?"

  He sniffed, gripping my comforter in his fists, "I did something bad." His bottom lip began to tremble, making my heart hurt. "You're going to hate me. Everyone's gonna hate me."

  "Hey," I rushed over and kneeled in front of him. "Talk to me." He shook his head. I grabbed his hand, examining his bruised and blistered knuckles.

  "Did you hit someone?" I stroked them with my thumbs. 

  He slightly winced, "Yea."

  I sighed, standing up and stretching to fully wake myself up. Shawn wasn't a violent person at all, so I could see why he was so freaked out about this whole situation.

  "Come on. Let me clean you up," I grabbed his hand, "But you have to be quiet, okay?" He nodded.

  I cracked open the door and peeked down the hallway into the darkness. I turned around and looked at Shawn, holding up a finger to my lip. He nodded and I opened the door fully, silently thanking God that it didn't squeak. We walked down the hall quietly to get to the bathroom.

  "Shawn!" I whisper-yelled when he bumped into the wall and made the picture frames rattle.

  "I'm sorry, princess." He flinched before bursting into a fit of quiet laughter. Then I remembered, he was drunk.

  "You're going to wake my parents." I put my hand over his mouth. "Shh."

  He nodded. His eyes stared into mine while I waited for him to calm down. He licked my hand, "Don't do that." He said. I rolled my eyes, wiping my hand on my shorts. 

  "You're such a bad drunk."

  I continued to drag him down the hall and into the bathroom. I locked the door behind us and pointed to the toilet. "Sit."

  "Ok, miss bossy." He rolled his eyes before sitting down. I reached over the sink and pulled out the first aid kit.

  "So how did this happen?" I took out an alcohol pad and began to wipe the cuts on his hands. He quietly hissed in pain.

  "I was at the club with that girl from my psych class. The one that I told you about."

  "Mhm," I put a bandaid on his middle finger, then kissed it. "Then what happened?"

  "We were dancing, having a good time, then some guy came up and started groping her. He was being an asshole." He continued as I put some ointment on his lip.

  "So I told him to back off. He got in my face, and he was hammered. I could smell it on his breath. She told me not to worry about it. She said it was fine, but it wasn't."

  I nodded, cleaning his cuts in silence while he told his story. "I was going to let it go, but he pushed me, and I just- I hit him...and I didn't stop." We stopped and looked at each other.