𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, shawn mendes

𝟣.𝟧

aurora versini
17/02/18
9:28pm
new york city, usa

He bet me to it. He made the first move. I quickly close the distance he's working on closing himself, pressing my lips against his, the ones I've spent the last half an hour staring at. And god, is he worth the wait. "I wanted to make the first move, but you bet me to it. I'm impressed." I whisper into his ear, hoisting my right leg around his torso, my brain not quite processing that we're in the presence of countless other celebrities.

"What? Does that surprise you?" he murmurs gently, his hand resting behind my neck, acting as a barrier between the back of my head and the wall, his fingers tangled in my hair.

"I don't get surprised, Mendes." I return my leg to the ground, pulling away. "You're a good kisser."

"Then why'd you stop kissing me?" He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, turning me on in a way I've never quite felt before.

"You're not good enough to make me want to ruin my reputation." I gesture to the mass of celebrities in our presence. "We'll need more alcohol before I willingly do that."

"You still wanna leave?" I consider his offer, even though I know his answer.

"Sure. There's better drinks in my fridge back at my apartment." I shrug, starting to walk away.

"W-we're going back to your place?" He stammers adorably, practically sprinting to catch up with me. "Not that I don't want to, I mean-"

"It's not far. If that's the problem." I turn to him, pressing the button to call the elevator that would lead us back to ground level.

"There's no problem at all, really." He taps his foot nervously, matching the rhythm of the rain outside. The elevator chimes and the doors open, making Shawn gesture for me to enter before him. Once we're in and the doors are safely shut, I take the opportunity to pick up where we left off back in the club, and press my lips against his again.

He kisses me back even harder, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting it softly. Somehow, his adorable dorkiness seems to evaporate every time our lips connected. He slides a hand up my thigh, hitching the hem of my dress up slightly. He doesn't go any further, aware of the limited timeframe we have. Equally as paranoid, I keep one eye on the counter above the elevator door the entire time we make out, watching it decrease down to 'floor 1' and ding open.

Just in time for the expected hoards of paparazzi, I pull away and rearrange my dress. "I'll walk in front." I instruct through gritted teeth, preparing to wade through the cameras. It's unsurprising; I'm almost convinced that Florence called them here herself. She's always had a love for the camera. I lose them around a corner, ignoring their questions. "Why are you leaving so early?" one of them asked, trailing after me as his camera flashed, disturbing my vision.

Why's it any of your fucking business, I'm desperate to reply. But, because my mother taught me better than that, I maintain my straight face and persevere on through the rain.

"Why did I not think about that?" Shawn stresses as I met up with him again around the corner. "Andrew is gonna kill me!"

"Who the hell is Andrew?"

"My manager. Fuck, that's gonna be all over social media."

"Woah, calm down. Don't you have a publicist that can spin a story for you?"

"Yeah, I guess." He sighs. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I get it." I reassure him. "I mean, no one really gives a shit about my love life, but for you— that's a whole different story."