••Shawn Mendes Imagines••

39: One of a Kind

Y/n's POV
•••
The tears roll back down into my dark sleeves.
Words have been thrown and slammed to one another. I hate arguing with him, but what I said was true.
Never have I ever been a fond of my own appearance.. I hardly even know why or how I have someone like Shawn. Constantly, the media that I hold in my hand reminds me of how worthless I am. All I've done is fallen for some famous singer. All he's done is fallen for me.
He explained to me how they're just jealous of me. He stated that I'm the only one for him. Sometimes it just gets so hard to bare. It tears me to pieces.
I feel the need to look Shawn square in the eye and spit out every last detail there is to despise about me. He hates it when I do. Some kind of anger and frustrated affection builds up inside of him.. then he lets it out through his powerful voice.
The phone that I hold in my shaky palm let's out a silent buzz.
Shawn.
I read the text message to myself.
'Meet me down in the basement.'
I don't really feel like hearing "you're perfect, though" or, "baby, you're so pretty!" Not now.. but I pick myself up, dry my tears, and stumble down the dark stairs anyway.
My finger finds the light switch at the bottom of the creaky steps; I flick it on.
To my suprise, I'm met with the sight of a blow up matress, pillows, blankets, an open pizza box, dimmed fairy lights, Harry Potter paused on the screen, and Shawn with a bright smile spread across his face.
"So, what do ya think?" He asks looking up.
Before I get the chance to respond with such a glowing soul, he cuts me off, "I know how much you hate me always having to tell you how special you really are, Y/n. So I thought.. why not just show you, instead?"