Professional Publicity Stunt » Shawn Mendes✔️

thirty-five: i don't wanna lose you now, or ever.

"Not the reaction I was expecting," he chuckles. "But this is kind of a surprise, isn't it?"

"You could say that," I mumble, my hand still clutching the doorknob. "What—What are you doing here?"

"Yeah...I guess I should explain that."

"Maybe," I blink, still not sure if he's really here or if this is me lucid dreaming. Or is it hallucinations, even if it still feels like a dream? "Uh, but, come in. Sorry...for slamming the door in your face."

"It's okay," he shrugs, laughing a little as he steps up into my trailer. He turns around, holding out one of the cups in his hand. "This is for you, by the way."

"Thank you," I smile, taking the cup from him. Iced caramel coffee. The one he got me addicted to. "I haven't had one of these in ages."

"Really?" He asks, raising his eyebrows as he wraps his lips around his straw – seriously? He's in front of me for two seconds and my brain is already focusing on his lips. For Christ's sake, calm down.

"Y-Yeah," I nod awkwardly. "Not since...you know."

His face falls in realization, his cup coming down from his lips as well. "Oh."

"Yeah," I repeat, nearly grimacing. "Uh, sit down, explain yourself," I tease, gesturing to the couch and trying to ease some of the awkwardness in the room.

"Oh right," he nods, planting himself in the middle of the couch, leaving me nowhere else to sit but beside him.

And I do – inelegantly. I bring my legs up underneath me, resting my coffee on my knee. I still haven't taken a sip. Something about it is so...odd. This entire situation right now is odd, and I'm still not totally sure he's real, but I almost don't want to take a sip from the coffee, in fear that it'll disappear from my hand if I do.

And the fact that he's just staring at me doesn't help matters either.

"So...what are you doing in Vancouver?"

"Oh, a festival," he explains. "And I thought since I was in town, I...I thought I'd come talk to you."

There it is. The famous, "Can we talk?" or "I need to talk to you." It's always something about needing to talk.

"Right, festivals," I smile, trying to deflect a little. "Sorry, I haven't kept up with a lot of the stops since we started filming. I've been in my own bubble."

"I understand," he nods. "How is it?"

"What, filming?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, it's good," I pause. "Everything I dreamed, I guess. It's been really fun."

"I'm glad," he grins. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good," I lie, adding a smile. I'm not entirely lying. I am good. I'm proud of the work we've done on this movie. I've had so much fun spending these two months living with Kate and working with her, and so many more actors I've looked up to. I've gained a new friendship with Andrew, and he's really taken me under his wing. I'm good. I've got good things going for me.

But I am so not doing good. At the same time, I am not good at all.

"How are you?" I ask, deflecting.

"I'm okay," he replies, and he seems sincere enough, but he looks tired. But he's also on a festival tour.

"Shawn, I'm sorry."

The sentence leaves my lips before I have any time to protest, and I nearly smack my hand over my mouth in shock when I realize what I've said.

Oh, and his hand doesn't help. His hand that instinctively reached out and is now resting on my knee as he looks at me again with that look.

"Why, honey?"

Might as well continue on, now. What else do I have to lose? "Oh, God, I was awful. Leaving you like that," I shake my head. "God, I am so sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," he murmurs. "I forgave you for that the moment I read your letter."

"Oh, God I had forgot about the letter!" I groan, smacking my hand over my eyes. "Who does that? Who walks out and leaves a letter? That's awful!"

"I still have it," he admits quietly. "I read it before bed every night for a long time."

I split my fingers, glancing at him. "You're serious?"

He nods.

"Why...why'd you stop?"

"I wanted to talk to you about it in person," he shrugs. "Not in my head while I looked at your handwriting."

I chuckle, leaning my elbow on the back of the couch to rest my head in my palm. "I've talked to you in my head a lot, too."

"Yeah?" He laughs. "Did you apologize to me in there, too?"

"Every day," I nod seriously.

He frowns. "Honey..."

"I've missed you saying that."

"I've missed saying it."

Tears. The tears are real, and they are gathering in my eyes at the exact moment I don't want them to. But I can't help it when I'm looking into his eyes and I see the same reaction.

"You put in the letter that I deserved to meet someone in a normal way," he begins.

"Because you do," I mumble.

He gives me a look. "If you want me to, then I'll camp out in the Starbucks and I'll wait for you, and I'll offer to buy your coffee, and it'll be like a clean slate, but my point is—" His hand moves from my knee to wipe one of the stray tears that had fallen down my face. "The point is it wouldn't matter. I've loved you since you walked into the room and if I had met you in the Starbucks downstairs that day, I know I would've loved you then, too."

I scrunch my face up, trying to stop the emotions, but it never works. I lean down and put my coffee on the floor while he continues talking.

"I don't want to meet someone else in a 'normal' way," he chuckles, using air quotes. "We're not normal. We don't have normal lives – or not the normal lives my parents have, that's not my point."

He stops himself, reaching out to grab my hand. "I don't want to meet someone else because I don't want someone else."

"Me either," I blurt, sniffling and probably looking absolutely disgusting as I wipe my nose on my sleeve. "Oh my God, me either."

I can't control my body as it practically lurches toward Shawn, giving him a split second to set his coffee down before I've wrapped my arms around his neck. I sigh shakily when I feel his arms wrapping around my back, holding me against him, and good God, I've missed this. I've missed him so much. Too much.

I pull back from the hug, expecting to sit back and calm down, but there's no time, because Shawn cradles my face and pulls me back in, this time pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

I've missed that, too. So much.