Shawn Mendes Imagines

75. Quarantine Birthdays (S.M)

You've done everything possible to prepare for today. Everything has to go to plan because there isn't any space for mistakes.

The moment Shawn leaves the house is the moment that everything starts going wrong.

When you open up the door for the delivery man, you see that he's left the cake on the porch. You carry the box inside, eager to see how the design you picked out turned out.

Except, you're shocked when you open the box for a preview and see that the cake doesn't say, 'Happy Birthday Shawn.'

No, instead it's all black and says, 'Rest In Peace.'

So, the delivery man mixed up the cakes. One for a birthday celebration and the other for a funeral. You spend hours on the phone trying to get the original cake back but it turns out that the cake was destroyed out of the rage that the people at the funeral felt after seeing the celebratory cake.

Now, your plan has already been ruined just by that.

You still have some hope though, so you finally head outside to grab the package of decorations that have been waiting for you. Another delivery man had left the package there about an hour ago while you were on the phone, so now you finally have the chance to pick it up.

You lean down to grab the box, but you notice that it's ripped up. You look around the lawn and find the neighbor's dog is holding a piece of cardboard in its mouth.

The decorations inside are destroyed. The bright green colors now resemble a vomit-like substance. The letters are now random crumpled up pieces of paper.

Before you can freak out, you get a text from Shawn telling you that he'll be home soon. You try to shove away all of your feelings of panic while you take the boxes of decorations to the trash.

There isn't a point in putting them up. You decide to shove the cake into the refrigerator and hope that Shawn doesn't open it.

You have one point left in your plan and you don't think that it could get messed up in any way possible.

When Shawn arrives home, you once again tell him 'happy birthday.' You hug him and he's cheerful like always, having no idea how you've messed up his birthday so far.

You sit on the couch with each other and soon enough, it's time. You activate a FaceTime call with some of your closest friends while you head into another room so Shawn doesn't notice.

The call is barely beginning to connect when suddenly, all power goes out. The call disconnects and you're left holding the phone, speechless with the darkness around you.

You hear Shawn call out your name so you march back into the living room in an awkward silence. He asks if you're okay, and you nod your head weakly.

The last part of your plan failed. Shawn's birthday celebration is ruined.

You sit down on the couch because you don't know what else you can do. Except, you don't notice Shawn going through everything in the refrigerator.

"Y/N?" He asks loudly.

You walk into the kitchen and almost trip over yourself in shock. The box is open, and the cake is there, showing it's ugliness to Shawn.

"Rest in peace? Who died?" Shawn questions.

His innocent face and question makes you start crying tears of laughter and joy and anger and sadness and every single emotion possible.

Through the tears, you explain to him how everything had gone wrong.

He stays silent for a few moments after you're done explaining, until he finally says, "it's okay."

"No, it's not. I'm really sorry and—"

"Y/N, trust me, it's fine. You don't need to do anything like that for me. You already do more than enough for me by being my girlfriend."

"But—"

"Look, we still have a cake here. Let's eat it. We don't need the decorations or anyone else here. I see my friends almost everyday, I'll be fine," he says.

"Really?" You ask uneasily.

"Yes, really," he responds. "I love you and I love that you tried to do all of that for me."

You smile, and lean in to the counter, looking closer at the cake.

Hey, maybe the cake isn't that bad.

When you grab a knife to cut a piece, Shawn instead opts to grab a spoon and eat from the tray directly.

You decide, fuck it, and do the same. When you get a spoonful of it, you're happy that it tastes good at least.

You take the box to the living room and sit on the couch with Shawn, enjoying the laziness and simplicity of it.

"I love you," Shawn tells you.

"I love you too," you say warmly.

You enjoy the rest of the day with him, celebrating his birthday in a way that's unlike his past extravagant celebrations. Somehow, it feels sweeter to focus on just the two of you.

I can't believe Shawn is 22! (I know I'm posting this a day before his birthday)