You and Me, Forever

Running Late

ꫝડꪀꫝꪶ𝕥ꪶρ𝕫ꪑ

Shawn's eyelids fluttered open at the sound of birds chirping in the cold Toronto air. Turning to his side, he spotted his beautiful wife Camila laying there, sound asleep.

"Camila." he cooed, kissing all over her face.

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Shawn chuckled, admiring her face. Let's just say she was tired because they didn't only sleep last night, Shawn smirked at the thought. He turned over to glance at his alarm clock to see that it was the perfect time for him to wake up the kids.

He and Camila took turns taking Skylar and Harry to school, and Shawn definitely had the history of getting them late. Who could blame him, he loved his kids so much he didn't always want to let them go.

And so with one last kiss to Camila's forehead, Shawn hopped out of bed and put his slippers on. Crossing the hallway, he visited a bright purple room first.

Dodging the hundreds of stuffed animals on the ground, he walked up to his daughter's tiny bed, where she was snoring softly.

He smiled at her little face, and tucked a strand behind her ear just like he does to Camila.

She stirred, waking up.

"Daddy! Hello. "

"Hello darling." Shawn chuckled at her.

"I don't want to go to school." She muttered.

"Aw sweetheart, you know you have to."

"I don't want to."

"Love, is there something bothering you?" Shawn asked.

At this, she giggled.

"Hehehe you only call mommy love!"

"Well, I can use it for you sometimes too. Here, let's sit you up."

Shawn sat on her bed and placed Skylar on his lap. She rested her head on his chest as Shawn took her hand in his.

"Well, I have my oral presentation today." She told her dad.

"And I'm guessing you're nervous?"

"Yeah..."

"Well lemme tell you something darling, I know how you feel."

"How do you deal with nerves before you perform?"

"Well, I take deep, deep breaths. You know, in and out, in and out slowly... And then, I ease my mind. I think of things I'm thankful for, people I'm thankful of having in my life."

"Didja think about mommy?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, boy did I think about your mommy when I was on tour."

"Did you miss her daddy?"

"So badly, kitten, so badly."

Shawn looked through the hallway back at his bedroom.

"Anyway, how about some pancakes to cheer you up eh?"

Shawn put her down for her so she could get dressed, and walked across to his son's room.

On the way, a furry little grey dog ran into him.

"Hey boy! How are you doin, had a good sleep?" He said, scratching his neck and patting him on the head. "Go find Camila, she'll want to cuddle with ya."

And he ran off to their bedroom.

Checking his watch for the time, Shawn mentally swore. The little talk with Skylar took a little longer than expected, and now if they didn't hurry up they would be late.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" Shawn called out to his son.

Harry was bent over his desk, scribbling away.

"Dude, did you leave your homework last minute again?"

"Whaaa no of course not dad."

"Well, c'mon buddy let's go downstairs to have some breakfast."

Shawn picked his 7 year old son up and went down the stairs to a waiting Skylar.

Harry took a seat beside Skylar at the kitchen table, as Shawn started to get pans out.

"Guys, I don't think we have time for pancakes."

"What, daddy you promised." Skylar frowned.

"Whatever, what's 16+23?"

"Skylar, do you want to be late or not have pancakes?"

"I don't care about being late, you do." She giggled. "You and mommy have a contest on who gets us on time the most often."

"Ugh, you little geniuses know everything." Shawn said to the ceiling.

"Yo dad, what's 16+23?"

"Daddy, the pancake mix is in the first cabinet on the left!"

Oh god, Shawn thought.

"Why did I have kids again?" He whispered to himself.

"Because you loved me and wanted to start a family." Camila smirked, standing at the bottom of the staircase. "Need a hand babe?"

"Yes PLEASE." Shawn exhaled with relief.

Camila chuckled, as she walked in the kitchen.

"You get started on pancakes, and I'll sort out Harry's homework." She said, putting her hands on Shawn's waist.

"Thank you, you're the best." Shawn grinned down at her, starting to kiss her neck and lips.

"Guys!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hmm right, pancakes!" Shawn moved away from Camila to proceed to the stove, as she went to sit beside Harry to help him on his math.

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"Alright bye guys! Have a wonderful day; Skylar you'll do wonderful on your presentation and Harry, don't forget about your soccer practice at 4." Shawn bent down to hug both his kids before they ran off to the playground.

"How are they already 7 and 6 years old?" Camila pondered, laying her head on Shawn's shoulder.

"No freaking clue." Shawn responded, laying his head on top of hers and putting his hand on her waist, pulling her towards him.

"Okay, we should go home; I'm in sweatpants and a cami and I'm freezing." Camila shivered, snuggling up to her husband.

"Yeah, I got an interview in half an hour."

"Wait, Shawn, isn't your interview at 9?"

"Yeah, it's 8:30."

"SHIT SHAWN I'M LATE FOR A MEETING AT WORk!"

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"So, I guess I'm not the only one who runs late every once in a while eh?" Shawn chuckled from behind the counter with a coffee in his hand.

Camila raised her eyebrows at him as she ran to the closest to grab a pair of heels.

"Shawn, will you zip me up?" She said.

"Of course love." Shawn stood up to help her. "Hey today, I called Skylar love and she noticed I always call you that haha."

"Ookay, I gotta run; I'm so late. Bye you dork." Camila kissed Shawn on the cheek before going out the front door to the driveway.

Shawn smirked at her from the door.

"Hey I'm still winning, you've been late three more times now than me!" Camila called out from her car.

Shawn laughed.

"I love you!" He called out to her.

Going back into the house, he smiled. He was so incredibly happy, with his life right now. He was married to Camila, the love of his freaking life and every day with her was just as exciting as when they were first dating. And he had his two amazing kids.

He glanced at the clock. 9:01.

"Damnit!" He cried out, grabbing his coat and running out the door.

ꫝડꪀꫝꪶ𝕥ꪶρ𝕫ꪑ