imagine

Shawn Mendes (In Paris)

"Mi amour." Shawn smiles, holding his hand out to you as you stifle a laugh. He pulls your hand to his lips and places a tender kiss against it. He pulls you closer, with his hand instantly at the center of your back.  "Shawn, that's Spanish." You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes because he knows it is. His smile widens, and his eyes sparkle under the street light.  "I know." He shrugs, "I still like saying it." you can feel your heart grow ten times it's size in your chest. You lean up to him, with your arm now reaching behind his neck. Your lips press against his, causing a hum to escape his lips. When you kissed, the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled. You pulled each other closer until there was no space left between you - to the point where you could feel the beating of his heart against your own chest.

You pull away, breathless, remembering you were in the middle of a quiet sidewalk in Paris - with the love of your life. A simple gaze between you two was enough to say all the words you didn't have the energy to speak. Your thumb grazed his cheek scar, admiring all that he is.  He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was handsome from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon your own. 

"Mon chéri." the words slipped out of your lips so simply, like they were always meant for him and you were always french. His forehead leans against yours and lets out a breath.

No matter where you went, he made it easy to fall in love with him all over again.

"happy valentine's day, my love." He mumbles sweetly.