Shawn Mendes Imagines

Invisible

Okay so Shawn used to have you, and now he doesn't. I don't care how you believe that happened from death, alternate universes, moving across the world, whatever you want to imagine.

I wake up every morning in my bed, rolling over to see Shawn staring at his ceiling.

"Good morning," I smile. But it doesn't last long. Because I never hear a "good morning" back. I don't get to see his eyes glisten when he looks at my face. When his eyes catch me, they aren't looking at me. They are empty, glancing through me around his bland room that used to be bright in color housing my items. He sighed and dragged his legs over the side of our bed. He sat up and rested his head in his hands. I crawled over to him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"It will get better Shawn, I promise," I whispered and stood, leaving him in the bedroom. I heard faint crying as I walked into our kitchen. I pursed my lips. "I'm sorry I can't be with you," I muttered to myself and stared in a mirror that didn't reflect my image back.

I missed him too. I missed being able to see a smile pull at his lips every time we exchanged glances walking down the sidewalk. I missed having his fingers string through my hair as we watched Harry Potter for the millionth time.

"Shawn hurry up! You are going to be late for work!" I yelled at him as he strolled from cabinet to cabinet in his kitchen even though we both knew he wouldn't end up grabbing any of the food that sat inside gathering dust.

Suddenly his phone rang, and but both jumped, reaching out to snatch it. He picked it up and frowned immediately.

"Yeah sorry boss. I'm coming," he groaned after he hung up and slumped onto a stool.

"Come on Shawn. Don't waste your dreams! You can do this!" I exclaimed. But he just closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling his body onto the counter. "Shawn, please!" I grabbed his hand, but his fingers didn't intertwine with mine. "Please, listen to me. I'm right here Shawn, I'm right here," I begged. He glanced up.

"I wish you were with me Y/N," he choked out before another tear dripped off his chin onto the marble top.

"I know Shawn, I know but I'm right here Shawn, I didn't leave!" I rushed out, squeezing harder on his hand, trying to push a reaction out of him.

"You left me," he mumbled.

"No babe, I didn't, I'm really here! Grab my hand back I'm right here!" I pled.

But he just got up and walked into his bathroom, slamming it behind him.

And this happened every day. I would pray, and beg, and bribe, and plea, anything I couldn't think of.

But the universe tore us apart from each other, and now Shawn hangs onto air instead of my waist.

The car ride was awkward, for me. Because we sat in silence. Because even if I could think of something to say, it wouldn't have mattered because he wouldn't hear me say it. Whenever a song that I love would come on, he would slam the search button. I wanted to tell him that it was okay to listen to music, that I wanted him to. But he wouldn't, even if did somehow hear me arguing with him about it. He would zone out on the highway. He would almost drive in the other lane. And I would scream and yank his wheel back, like I could actually control it. He would luckily swerve back in your lane. And I would yell at him to stop being an idiot, to stop playing with his life and others. But he would just chuckle a little and keep driving. I would follow him into work, where the girls at the desk would say soothing words and smile pitifully. We both hated it. He hated it because he didn't want any pity. I hated it because I could hear the gossip they shared between each other when he was down the hall.