Let's Pretend

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CAMILAS  P. O. V

I don't know how it happened, it certainly wasn't a conscious decision that I made, all I know is one minute I was stood there looking up at Shawn, both of us with tears in our eyes and the next minute, my arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and I'm hugging him as though my life depends on it, hugging him as tightly as I can, just hoping that I can suffocate all the hurt that I've caused him.

He doesn't return my hug immediately- in fact I feel him make a half hearted attempt to pull away but I'm not budging and eventually, I feel his strong arms wrap around my waist in a way that I never thought they would again.

Tears are now streaming down my face and I occasionally feel his chest heave as I hold him close to me.

What have I done?!

To Shawn…

To us…

To myself?

Slowly my hand works its way up his neck and cradles the back of his head which is covered by the hood of a sweater I haven't seen him wear in years, I run my hand up over the hood and the absence of bouncy curls makes my blood run cold. I feel his body tense as he releases me from his embrace and steps inside my hotel room.

Pushing the door shut and standing with both palms pressed against it- I try to steady myself… preparing myself. This isn't going to be easy but things that are worth doing rarely are.

I'm tired and emotional, my tears upon seeing Shawn in such a desolate state prove that I crumble easily these days, but he asked me for help so I'm going to have to toughen up and do what I told Niall I would do and that's put Shawn first.

Turning slowly I face him, silently he had moved across my hotel room and is now sitting on the edge of the bed, he's looking at the knuckles of his right hand and I don't have to see the dried blood to know that he's hit something… hard.

Evening out my breathing I take tentative steps towards him, he never looks up, he just continues to play with what I can see now are cut and bloodied knuckles… I just hope it wasn't Niall on the other end of them.

Reaching down I take hold of his wounded hand and inspect it closely for serious damage, he looks up at me in surprise but doesn't utter a word, I just smile softly and once I'm satisfied the damage is mostly superficial, I return his hand to his lap and try desperately to ignore the butterflies that erupted in my stomach as our hands touched.

I'm standing just a yard or so in front of him and it warms my memory to remember how he used to tease me about how sitting down, he's almost as tall as I am standing up.

He's still gazing silently into my eyes as I reach both hands up and place them either side of his cotton hood, immediately though his large hands shoot up to cover mine, his eyes now begging me not to go any further.

"Shawn, it's okay" I tell him in the softest voice I can muster.

His eyes and hands cling to mine a second longer and then he releases them.

I think I know what's coming and I know he doesn't want me to see… he's probably nervous of how I'll react, but if I'm really going to help him there needs to be no more barriers between us because believe me, there are enough of them already. Holding a breath in my chest and attempting to control my trembling hands I slowly peel back the hood and it takes every ounce of strength that I have not to start crying again.

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