I love his shirt so frickin much I want it for Christmas. Long title I know, collab soon??? please??? This may be long, idk.
The skyscrapers towered above the streets, all glass panes and steel frames reflecting each other and the streets in an endless loop. You take in the building across the street, waiting for the light to change. You adjust your shnazzy pencil skirt and breathe deeply.
I'm going to ace this interview. You tell yourself. Arriving an hour early was proving to be a good idea. Foot traffic was crazy and the drivers were being reckless. Stepping into the crosswalk as the light changed, you continued to psych yourself up.
You have the talent, be confident.
You took a large step to avoid a puddle and looked over at the line of waiting cars, just as one surged forward with a squeal of tires on asphalt. Panic seized up in your chest and a force knocked you to the ground as the taxi sped through the intersection.
You fell to the ground, impact absorbed by the arms around you. Mud splattered up your legs and in your hair, it covered your skirt and shirt.
"Oh God!" You stand up and yell thanks, already bolting for the door.
"I have an interview in about an hour, where's the bathroom?" You request.
The receptionist doesn't look up, just waves to the left, bent over a stack of papers.
"Thanks!" You rush inside.
*** The bathroom was empty, the workday had already begun. You shamelessly removed your muddy clothes and put them in the sink, turning on the spigot. You wiped the mud off your shoes and skin quickly.
"Let this work." You whisper. The panic of missing your interview constricting your chest.
You rinse your hair in the sink and dig through your purse. Where is that travel shampoo? You find it and dump the contents into your hair. (Farfetched and unlikely, but it would work in theory right?) \/(~-~)\/
You rinse your hair again and scrunch the worst of it dry with the paper towels. You hurriedly begin to wash your skirt with the hand soap. You rinse it thoroughly, praying the scent of asphalt and mud don't stick to it.
Someone knocks on the door. "Um, I pushed you into the mud? Can I come in?"
"No! I-I'm not dressed!" You inform him.
You hear a sigh, then the door cracks open. "Here, put this on."
You stop midscreech. "Oh."
A hand is shoving a dress shirt through the door. You can see a head of brown hair, courteously turned away from you.
You take the shirt and slip it on, buttoning it quickly.
"It's on," you announce, marveling at its size.
The sleeves go two cuff-lengths past your wrist and the hem skimmed your knees. Either I'm really short or he's really tall...
You look up at the man who is walking into the women's public restroom. And gape. He is tall. He is Shawn Mendes.(collaboration plz ;-;)
He is talking as you stare, and you snap yourself back to reality.
"-You have an interview soon. I'm really sorry, can I help?" It seems he had taken in the situation and wanted to help. Help. You.
"Oh my." You blurt out, "I-I mean!! Um, yeah! Uh, can you start drying this with the thing?"
He laughs, "Yeah, I can." Then he begins to dry it.
You mutter under your breath, "the thing? Good going y/n."
You repeat the process on your shirt, which will now be unavoidably wrinkled. Smh.
The hand dryer quieted. I'm the mirror I could see Shawn thoughtfully scrutinizing the material. Cute.
"Here. I think it's dry." He offered you the skirt.
Drying your hands you nod. "I really appreciate this. I mean it."
He turned to the hand dryer with your shirt and you slipped the skirt on. You tuck in the shirt and scrunch your nose at your reflection. Nope. Not gonna do it.
"Hey." The sound of Shawn's voice interrupted your panicked internal mono -logue. (I know how to spell I'm punning again) "I have an idea. Here, I'll be back soon."
You nod and take the shirt. You only had ten more minutes to get to your interview. You did not want to miss it.
*****
"Y/n! Here, put this on." Shawn is sliding into the bathroom, trying to keep the door as closed as possible.
"You know my name?" The words Tumblr out of your mouth before the thought registers in your brain.
He smiled warmly, "I heard you mumble it earlier, you were talking to yourself."
You mutter a small 'oh' and take what he offers.
It is a shirt, not your size, but much smaller than his. It's familiar, you've seen it somewhere before. It is
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A gorgeous shade of blue. The material is silky and shines in the led light. Again, you turn and slip out of Shawn's shirt and slip into this one.
It looks nice, as if meant to be worn slightly larger. You hurriedly twist your hair up into a neat bun and hug Shawn.
"Thank you so much, I gotta go." You open the door . "And I'm a huge fan!"
You have to take the stairs because the elevators are blocked by press. Cameras flash and record but you can't take time to notice their focus. Interview. You have gotta run!
This has gotten longer than I'd anticipated so I'm going to cut it off here and do a part two as soon as I find the time. ^^
Thanks so much for reading and voting! Let me know what you guys think!! ♥♥♥
Sidenote: I didn't edit this... >-< Don't hurt me!
