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Y/N woke up that morning and she knew that day was going to be hard. She felt it in her already aching head and trembling hands. She felt it in the bone-weary tiredness that weighed her down like a pile of bricks, burdening her early morning rise. And like every time she gets this feeling, she was right.

A series of small mishaps accompanied her morning routine. From the coffee machine refusing to switch on and the glass she accidentally smashed on the hardwood, to the small tear in her favourite jacket that wasn't big enough to be noticeable but not small enough to avoid being sewed.

The day only got worse from there.

Stumbling back to her apartment that evening, against the backdrop of a grey, thundery sky, all Y/N wants is to crawl into bed and forget the day even happened. Knees stinging from when she tripped over a step and landed on the pavement, she slowly ascends the concrete stairs up the six floors to her apartment, cursing the elevator for still not being fixed after five weeks.

She reaches her breaking point the same time she reaches her door, when she proceeds to drop her keys, hit her head off the door handle after bending down to pick them up, and then going on to miss the keyhole a total of four times. By the time she gets the wretched door open, hot tears are threatening to spill from her tired eyes and she wants to scream.

However, as soon as the door closes behind her, a quiet melody reaches her ears, the sweet sound filtering through her otherwise silent apartment and causing her to sigh in relief. Gentle humming can be heard as she quietly toes off her shoes and throws her bag and torn jacket over the edge of the couch.

She pads down the hall in her fluffy socks, hand wandering along the wall before coming to rest on the door handle of her bedroom. The music continues, unperturbed by her presence, as she makes her way to the side of the man she loves and lays her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and melting into the ease of the moment.

Shawn continues playing for a few minutes more, softly sung words occasionally accompanying the wavering notes of his guitar. His head rests on hers as his fingers dance across the strings, playing the song they had long-professed to be theirs.

As the last notes trickle off into the silence, he gingerly places the guitar off to the side, turning to kiss Y/N's forehead before helping her up off the bed.

She stands still, eyes watchful as moves around the room quickly, gathering her comfiest clothes from her drawers and grabbing her hairbrush off the dresser.

Wordlessly, he helps her shed her uncomfortable work uniform, occasionally pressing kisses against different parts of her body as he goes. Once everything is off and she now wears her favourite pyjamas, he presses one final kiss to her hand and pulls her over to the bed, instructing her to sit forward so he can brush her hair.

As the brush passes through each tangled strand with the utmost care, Y/N lets the stress of the day slowly melt away. She doesn't even notice her eyes have closed until she feels a hand touch her arm, tugging her back in invitation, which she gladly accepts.

Now, lying under the covers with Shawn's arms wrapped around her and her head lying just over his heart, she feels calm. All the stress and problems from the day can wait.

She is finally home.

- - - - -

Short and sweet :-)

Happy Valentine's Day!
If you're like me and don't have a Valentine, then please spend the day doing whatever it is you love best - whether it's eating your body weight in chocolate or binge watching your favourite TV show.

Thanks for reading xx

Shawn Mendes Imagines Where stories live. Discover now