Prostitute • Shawn Mendes

Fifteen

Kennedy

I wake up at around five in the morning, trying to convince myself that I should stay and that this was not a mistake, but I just can't seem to think that all this was a good idea. Shawn is a sweet guy, don't get me wrong, but all of this is too risky, I was only supposed to fuck him on his birthday, not go on dates and lay with him.

I attempt to get up without waking up Shawn, just to make it home before the sun rises so Martha doesn't get suspicious in the morning, but as soon as I move his arm from my waist, his eyes flutter open. "Where are you going?" He asks, squinting a bit and grabbing my hand with his.

"I should really go home, Martha must be worried-"

"No, stay. I'll bring you home in the afternoon." He interrupts, running his fingers down to my waistline. I must have an unsure look on my face, because he then says "Please, just sleep with me, help me get through the rest of the night." I chuckle at his response, but he puts on a pouty face and continues to carefully grab me, treating me as if I were some fragile puppy. I smile, then lay back down, tucking my head into his chest again. He runs his hand down my bare back, kissing the side of my neck. I let out a quick breath, then trail my hand down my chest, grabbing his hand as soon as I reach my waist.

"I like it when you touch me." I sleepily whisper, closing my eyes slightly. I place my fingers over his, then carefully bring his hand to my inner thigh. He continues to kiss my neck as I continue to direct him where to touch me. Suddenly, he stops, and I feel his head resting on my shoulder and his face pressed on the crook of my neck. His breaths begin to get heavier, which is how I know he's asleep again. I carefully try to fix my body, so that I'm a bit mofe comfortable than I was before.

I smile at the thought of all this, the thought that this all can last for a longer time, the thought that Shawn and I can actually be together. I know how stupid it sounds, but where would we be if we didn't dream, even if it is a little bit.

--

As soon as I wake up, for the second time today, I realize that Shawn is no longer holding me and that the shower water is running, which must mean that he is probably taking a shower, unless it's someone else, which would be very strange.

I remove the blanket, exposing my naked body to the cold atmosphere in Shawn's room. I get up and walk to Shawn's closet, finding a big grey sweatshirt on the first cabinet. I throw it on over my head, it falls to about my mid thigh, but it is much warmer than being naked. I hear the bathroom door open, making me jump up. I quickly open the door up more, just to see Shawn standing near the bed with nothing but his boxers. "Hey." He says as soon as his eyes make contact with mine. A towel is gripped in his large hands, he roughly rubs his head with the towel as water droplets shoot off from his hair.

"Hi." I reply, checking my wrists to see if i have a spare hair-tie, luckily, I do. I carefully pull it off my wrist, then tie my hair up into a high ponytail.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, sitting down on the bed and grabbing his phone from the white bed stand. I walk over to him, then sit down so our thighs are touching.

"Good." I say, grabbing his hand, he flashes a smile at me, then pulls me closer to him. "I should be getting home soon though." I whisper, attempting to pull away from him.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, with a concerned look on his face. It's not that I want to leave, it's that I have to. Shawn thinks in some sort of different type of way, that everything will always work out in his favor, which honestly is probably the case for most things in his life.

"I'm not, it's just, I just turned sixteen, Shawn. Y-You're twenty one-"

"Okay?" He interrupts with a bit of attitude. "I know your age and I'm fine with it. We just have to be a little secretive and I'm fine with that."

"I don't even know you." I say, making him chuckle.

"And I'm making an effort to try and get to know you, which you seem to not even care about." He snaps back, placing his phone back down onto the night stand.

"Oh, so you're completely fine with the fact that I'm a prostitute? Or did you forget about that? Are you fine with attempting a relationship with a girl who's sixteen and fucks a different guy everyday? Do you still want to get to know me, Shawn?" I reply in a partially mean tone. Shawn stays quiet for a few seconds, then fiddles with his fingers. His eyes trail up my body to my eyes, then he reaches out for my hand.

"Yes, I'm willing to try." He whispers with a slight grin. I can't help but smile as he stares at me. Shawn is actually the sweetest guy I have ever met, he actually makes you feel like he gives a fuck about you, which as I know, most guys don't, and if they do it's only before they fuck you, then after its like you never existed. I get closer to Shawn, then carefully sit down on his lap.

"Why?" I ask, bringing my hand up to his hair and running my fingers through his soft, partially moist curls. He runs his hands down my back, then cups them around my ass.

"The same reason you're still here." He whispers, softly pressing his lips onto mine. "So you tell me, why am I willing to get to know you still?" He mumbles on my lips, making me smile.

"I don't know." I reply softly, turning my head slightly to the right.

"Because you like me." He whispers, pressing his lips onto mine again. "If I remember correctly, a few days ago you told me you never get this intimate with clients, but if you think about it, I'm not a client, I never paid you. You're doing all this because you like me, whether you want to admit it or not." He says, then runs his hand up to my hair and takes out my ponytail before softly pressing my his lips onto my neck.

"And how do you know all this?" I ask with a slight chuckle, but kissing his neck again.

"I minored in psychology, I read right through you Kennedy." He replies, pulling back. "You're scared and I get that, but you can trust me. Or at least try to trust me by getting to know me." He says as I realize that he doesn't want me to kiss him anymore. I look into Shawn's brown eyes, trying my hardest not to smile, he carefully grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. "Can you try to trust me, Kennedy?" He asks after about a minute of awkward silence.

"We just met-" I spit out before realizing what I actually said. Shawn lets go of my hand with a slight, sarcastic chuckle.

"I'll bring you home I guess, sorry." He whispers, getting up and walking up to his closet.

I want to trust him, I really do, but the more trust I allow myself to have with people, the more hurt I get. My last relationship was a disaster, hell, I'm a fucking prostitute. It may not be by choice, but it's still what I am and what I will be labeled as. How could he even try to trust me? I don't even trust myself.

"I'm sorry." I say loud enough for him to hear from the closet. Shawn reappears in the room again, now wearing a pair of black jeans. The towel is still in his hand, his hair is still partially wet. "We can be friends, I mean, friends before we take this any further, I trust you, I trust my friends."

Shawn smiles, then walks over to me. He carefully grabs my waist and pulls me close, water droplets from his hair drop onto mine, then down my forehead. Shawn chuckles, then wipes the water away. He leans in, then presses his lips onto mine. "I'm fine with that, friend." He winks, then leans in for another kiss.