𝐞𝐜𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲, shawn mendes

v | 'how drunk are you?'

venus carerra
15/10/18
11:45pm
san francisco, usa

"That's just a dream though." I conclude, brushing my hand against a lamppost that lights up the street. He turns to me, an indescribable expression written on his face.

"I'll make it happen." He blurts, not an ounce of uncertainty in his voice. It's strange, how I could talk to him for hours and hours and get to know him, and suddenly he's shedded of the celebrity persona I'd seen him as before tonight. Because in that moment, I completely forgot who it was that I was confessing my dreams to.

I stare at him for a few moments, catching my breath. Because the craziest thing about the words he just uttered is that if he wanted to make them true, he could.

"What?" I gasp, the simple word the only one I'm capable of.

"I'll make it all happen for you, Venus." He repeats, "Or at least, I'll give it my best shot."

"How?" I blink, unable to think straight.

"Leave it to me." He smirks, "But your talent... that kind of thing needs to be shared. And not just to crowds of a hundred like tonight, or however many people you perform to at your godmother's bookstore. I'm talking what I have. More, even."

"Is this a really elaborate prank?" I squint at him, legs weak at the sound of all his compliments. "Like, are you fucking with me?"

"There's zero fucking going on here," He affirms, chuckling childishly at the innuendo. "Unless you want me to be fucking y-" He pauses momentarily, eyes going wide, "fucking with you?"

I shake my head, giggling along. "How drunk are you?"

"Too drunk to be having a serious conversation with you. But sober enough to mean what I said." He smiles, and I swear he moves a little closer, "And, I'm sober enough to walk you home?"

"I mean, if you want to?" I turn to him, "I could walk back on my own, if not."

"I want to. Got to keep you safe from all the murderers that are lurking around, you know how it is."

"I'm sure I'd be fine. I've lived here all my life, and never once have I been murdered."

"Maybe you're just lucky." He states, his shoulder bumping into mine as we walk, nearing the golden gate bridge.

I smile softly, allowing myself to properly look at him for the first time. He's attractive, obviously, but not just in the way fans like Marisa see him. Up close he's visually flawless, perfect features and perfect skin and the most incredible eyes and lips I've ever laid eyes on, and it's when my eyes flick from those two features for the billionth time that I notice I'm staring.

And it's when he says, "What you looking at, eh?" that I realise he noticed too.

"I don't know," I find myself giggling, stupefied by the man next to me. I'm past attraction now, in a stage I can't quite explain. "Just you."

"What about me?" He presses, the tips of his fingers brushing against mine as we walk down the street. I don't reply with words, only closing the distance between our fingers, wrapping my hand in his. He takes it further, squeezing his palm against mine and pulling me closer.