here's a short one for y'all. also we love a dramatic af camila
-
Shawn knows he shouldn't have blown up at her like that. He had gotten the last word in their fight and that never ends well. He had said something about her being second priority to his music. He'd watched her eyes darken and water.
She had stormed out of the house with tears streaming down her face after screeching 'I hate you.' He definitely didn't mean it, but he had been caught up in the moment. He would sacrifice everything for Camila's happiness.
He had looked for her everywhere to no avail; she returned two hours later and since then she hasn't spoken a word to him or acknowledged him.
It's 12 p.m., and they're both lying in bed turned away from each other, a good two feet between them. He can hear her sniffling on the other side of the bed and his heart painfully squeezes. Turning around, he sees her whole body curled in a ball and shaking. Shawn frowns and inches closer to her. Hesitantly, he presses his body against her back, afraid that she'll push him away. She doesn't. He wraps an arm around her waist and shoves his face into her mess of hair.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it. You know that," he sighs.
She doesn't say anything so he intertwines their fingers, kissing the back of her neck.
"We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight. I love you," he says.
-
Shawn feels around the bed for Camila, only to be met by cold sheets. He lifts his head up to search for her.
Padding down the stairs, he looks for her in the kitchen. She's sitting at the bar with puffy eyes in his black graphic t-shirt, drinking a cup of coffee. He softly smiles.
"Morning, Mila," he says.
She doesn't look up or reply to him. Shawn frowns. Hopefully making her favorite banana pancakes will soften her up. He gets busy gathering all the ingredients. He stares at her through the corner of his eye as he flips the pancakes, almost dropping one on the floor.
"Here you go. Just how you like them, love," he says, setting a stack of pancakes drowning in syrup in front of her.
She gives him a troubled look and takes a fork, stabbing it hard into the pancake. Shawn's eyes widen and he swallows. She angrily shoves a piece in her mouth. Shawn uncomfortably scratches the back of his neck as Camila takes a few more bites. She drops the silverware dramatically on the table and stalks upstairs, fists balled.
"Babe, you didn't even finish your food!" He yells after her, but she ignores him.
She returns back downstairs after awhile in ripped shorts and a belt stylishly wrapped around her waist, still in his shirt. She didn't bother taming her hair. She looks like she's going to get revenge on him. Taking her keys, she slams the door closed.
Shawn rubs his face in exasperation. This is going to be a lot harder than he thought.
-
Shawn gets a text from Roger after an hour.
She's here with me at the studio. Don't worry.
At least she's alive.
Is she ok?
Well, she's angrily writing down lyrics right now and every now and then she'll go mess in the sound room.
Trying to think of everything he can do to sweeten her up, Shawn orders a bouquet of red roses to be sent to the studio. He attaches a Sorry note to it, requesting her to go to the movies with him tonight.
