Shawn Mendes one shots

Ghost of Him - part two

Toronto had been cloudy, grey and cold all week and the rain had begun falling as soon as we had gotten into the large, black range rover Shawn had bought his parents a few years back.

It was rather nice, though. I had always loved the sound of pouring rain, I found it calming somehow. The smell it left behind was even better.

After spending about an hour packing and stuffing Shawn's things into the car, Manny was now following the white car in front of us – containing Andrew and his girlfriend – to the airport just outside the city.

My elbow was resting on the locked door, my chin leaning on my shut knuckles as my eyes followed the cars driving past us in the rain. Shawn was in the front seat, constantly avoiding catching my eyes in the retrospect whenever I looked up to find him already staring.

Things had been tense to say the least since Shawn left in anger. And since then, the exchange of words between us had never really taken place unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

Even then, it would just be an unclear mumbling as an answer to whatever the other said. As short as possible of course.

To be honest, we had hardly seen each other since that horrid night where my world suddenly crashed and we had fallen into a certain pattern of avoiding each other way too easily.

When I was out, Shawn was home and when Shawn was out, I was home just wandering the empty halls restlessly.

He had moved most of his things into the guest room at the other side of the large, white hallway and did no longer enter the bedroom that with time had become just my room.

Maybe it was better this way. A little lonelier but somehow better.

At least we didn't hurt each other more than we already had.

Some nights, when he came home after I had already gone to bed, I could hear him sob uncontrollably from across the hall and while his rasp cries echoed in the silent house, my heart sank to my stomach and the sickness began to spread.

All I wanted, was to comfort him, love him and assure him we would find our way back, but I never did.

I felt like saying those words would be complete lies because at this point, I really didn't see a way out of the gutter.

All I did was continue to listen to his desperate cries most nights when he thought I was sleeping.

It never really got better between us, we never really made up but our constant arguing had toned down, almost like we had just given up on each other. Given up on our relationship. It didn't make things any less tense, though.

I could still taste the bitterness in the air when he – miraculously – allowed himself in the same room as me at the same time. I would notice how his body became twitchy – ready to fight back if needed – and how his fingers dug harshly into his palms to cope with whatever uncomfortable and cold feeling were running down his spine.

He didn't want to feel like this either, I could tell from the slight shade of pain in his eyes, but we had both always been incredibly stubborn and it didn't seem like Shawn was ready to back down either.

So we just continued on living under the same roof yet ignoring each other. We continued acting like a couple while we were as distant from each other as ever and the ghost of him was still haunting me in my sleep when all I really wanted was to feel his warm body up against mine. Just one more time, just once so I didn't forget the feeling completely.