Shawn Mendes Imagines

Drunken Love

Shawn's POV

Standing by the window, I gaze upon the city lights. My apartment is quiet as I stand alone in the darkness of my living room, with nothing but my thoughts as company.

I wasn't really looking at anything in particular, just staring blankly at the Toronto skyscrapers, with too much on my mind.

I tiredly run my fingers through my tangled locks of hair, when I hear the doorbell ring. It was past midnight; Who could be here at this hour?

I open the door to see Y/F/N, with a grinning Y/N behind her.

"Hey Shawn.... so Y/N has had a little too much to drink and her parents would be really mad if they found out so could she crash here tonight?"

I look behind her at Y/N, who giggles softly at nothing. Smiling at her drunken state, I nod and then let them in.

Y/N told me she was going out with the girls for her 19th birthday and seeing as it was the first day she was allowed to drink, she wasted no time in making the best of it.

Y/F/N brings Y/N over to the couch and makes her sit. "I'll call you tomorrow morning, my ride is here," she tells Y/N, who nods and giggles randomly again.

"I'll take care of her," I reassure Y/F/N.

She smiles at me gratefully, and then walks out the door.

I head into the kitchen to fetch Y/N a glass of water. As I walk over to the couch where she was sitting, I see her playing with her fingers and mumbling nonsense to herself.

After handing her the glass, I take a seat next to her.

"I assume you had a fun night?" I ask, chuckling.

I watch as she eyes the water suspiciously, inspecting it, and then takes a sip.

"Loaddds of fun," she slurs, nodding her head tiredly.

I laugh, and she shifts closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my neck. I put my arm around her, slowly stroking her back.

After a few minutes, she sits up and looks at me. She leans forward and whispers into my ear.

"I have to tell you something."

She had that childish grin and a playful twinkle in her eyes.

I chuckle. "What is it?" I ask.

She gets closer, her face inches away from mine. "I love you," she whispers, her two hands placed lightly on my shoulders.

Before I could react, her plump pink lips are on mine, and her fingers move towards my hair. I kiss her back, engulfed in the moment. My hand moves to her cheek and my mind turns to jelly.

God knows I've loved her for the longest time. But this wasn't truly her, she was drunk. I come to my senses and gently push her off.

She looks at me, confused. "You don't love me?" she says looking hurt.

I sigh. She probably won't even remember any of this in the morning.

"Of course I love you. I've loved you for so long... but you won't even remember this tomorrow and you also wouldn't be doing this if you were sober.... I don't want to take advantage of you."

She simply looks at me in confusion, her mind obviously not used to the alcohol.

"It doesn't matter... we'll talk in the morning okay?" I tell her. She just shrugs and lays down on the sofa.

I lay next to her, thinking about what just happened. There was no way she actually felt that way. We were only ever meant to be friends....

I look down at her after a while, and she's sleeping peacefully, her eyes gently shut. I decide to bring her to my bed; she would be more comfortable there. I could sleep on the couch for one night.

I scoop her up in my arms, and she subconsciously places her arms around my neck again. When I try to set her down on the mattress, she doesn't let go.

"Can you stay?" she mumbles softly.

I hesitate for a moment, and then nod, placing her down and walking over to the other side of the bed.

She comes closer and presses herself against me. We fall asleep like that, my arms wrapped around her torso, her face buried in the crook of my neck.

When I awaken the next morning, I see that she is still asleep. She was so damn gorgeous.

All I wanted was to be able to wake up next to her every morning. I loved her so much, more than she would ever know.

I slowly reach over and grab my phone off the bedside table. About half an hour later, her eyelids flutter open, and she slowly sits up, yawning.

"Morning Y/N," I say to her.

"Morning.... Shawn? What am I doing here?" she asks. She doesn't remember.

"You were drunk last night and Y/F/N brought you here," I answer slowly.

She nods. "Thanks for letting me stay... did anything— oh. I... I kissed you yesterday didn't I?" she realizes as her cheeks flush red.

"Yeah but umm, don't worry you were drunk so uh I pushed you off," I say, trying to spare her the embarrassment.

We sit quietly for a moment, as she looks down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. An awkward silence hangs in the air.

"What if I had done it when I was sober?" she asks quietly.

"What?" I say, being caught off guard.

"What if I had kissed you when I was sober? Would you have pushed me off?" She looks up at me, her striking, hazel eyes meeting mine. She leans closer slightly.

I shake my head. "No."

I connect my lips with hers and smile. Oh how long I've wanted this. Maybe the saying is true; drunk words are sober thoughts.