Never Let Me Go

Our Song

I heard the bells on the coffee shop door jingle, which meant someone had just opened the door. I silently shivered, a chill of anxiety running up and down my spine. The little voice in my head tried to calm me, told me it could be someone completely different, someone new. Yet,  I did not dare to fully look up, rather I just slightly observed through my peripheral vision. As the stranger grew closer, I undoubtedly knew that it was him. The bright lights of a car headlights flashed in my eyes, as I finally looked up to see the back of his head. He was wearing a simple jacket, fitting dark navy blue skinny jeans, and a grey beanie slightly tilting off of his head. I found my cheeks warming, and as I brought my hands up to my mouth, it was curved in a smile.

I sneakily watched him through the corner of my eye, as I pretended to scribble something meaningful  in my notebook. He ordered an iced green tea, something I had never quite liked. The minute he spoke, my heart began to beat as if it was trying to escape through my ribcage. His voice was cool-toned, and he spoke delicately and sweetly as he said thank you to the cashier. I saw his right shoulder blade go backwards, and I knew he was about to turn around and look for a seat. Nervously, I shoved my head downwards into my notebook, and continued to scribble nonsense. I thought he had decided to sit elsewhere, until I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a low rumbling sound clouding my thoughts. His breath smelt minty and fresh as he whispered, "Hi, is this seat taken?" The little voice in my head firmly told me not to turn around at any costs, but the butterflies in my stomach blinded my brain. I turned around and smiled at him, something I had rarely done to anyone. I nodded my head yes, since all words in the english dictionary had chosen this moment to escape my brain.

I hadn't noticed how tall he was, until he walked over to the small plush seat, and pulled it backwards so he could walk around and place his feet underneath the coffee table. He placed his iced green tea on a table, and took out a chocolate chip muffin I hadn't seen him purchase. He put the muffin on a napkin, and to my surprise brought out another from a mysterious brown paper bag I hadn't seen before either. He placed it on my napkin, and gestured with his hands that it was for me. Shakily all I could say was a quick "thanks," before I had quickly gulped down a bit of the ice cold expresso I had bought long ago. 

"I don't mean to be an intruder since we only just met through a coffee shop window, but I would love if I could maybe know your name," Shawn bent his head forwards then downwards, trying to make our eyes meet.

I chuckled a bit, and cleared my throat, "Im Delilah, Delilah Marie Woods," still not bringing my face up to meet his. To this day, I still question why I willingly told him my full name.

I could tell he was smiling when he said, "Nice to meet you Delilah, I'm Shawn, Shawn Peter Raul Mendes."

I nearly choked on my coffee as I remembered where I had seen his face, the mysterious familiarity of his eyes and his smile. "You're Shawn Mendes, as in Shawn Mendes Life of the Party, Shawn Mendes Show You, Shawn Mendes One of Those Nights, that Shawn Mendes?" 

"Yeah haha I'm that Shawn Mendes," he said uncomfortably as I knew I had come off as just another one of his fans.

"Its really nice to meet you Shawn you're extremely talented,"  I said trying to ease my tone of excitement and anxiousness. 

"Opportunity looks like a lot of hard work eh?" 

We talked for hours, laughing and smiling as if we were old friends. I started to see Shawn as a person, not an unbelievably perfect model as he was portrayed to be  in magazines and on social media. We talked about many things, our passions, our strengths, our weaknesses. I was never really a fan of small talk, I was generally not afraid of going deep behind the scars to find the human. We talked and talked, and talked, till our mouths ran dry, and our tongues felt like sandpaper rubbing against our teeth. 

We were the last people in the coffee shop, and were silent as the last song played.

Shawn sighed, his muscular shoulders sweeping downwards as he rested his head on his hands and said, "I should get going, security's pretty strict on time."

"Yeah, we've been here a while and we've downed half of the caffeine that this cafe owns," I said as I quietly laughed.

I realized that Shawn's happy demeanor dulled when he had stopped attempting to look me in the eyes. He lifted his right hand, swishing his coffee straw in between the slightly melted ice cubes. 

I sat in silence as I listened to Hey There Delilah play on the overhead speaker. When I was younger, I used to think that Hey There Delilah was wrote specifically for me. I could always listen to the song, and feel like I was worth something. I was worth more than just a person, and I was worth more than just these bones. 

"I love this song," I quietly whispered to myself.

Shawn tilted his head upwards, "I love this song too."

Embarrassed, I began to doodle on the napkin my consumed muffin had been on. Suddenly, Shawn snatched the pen out of my hand and started to write on his own napkin. I watched his veins harden and then relax as he started and finished each word. He bit his lip a little, his eyebrows furrowed while his over-caffinated hand shakily wrote.

He put the pen down, and pushed both the napkin and the pen towards me. Slowly, he smiled from the corners of his mouth, and started to put on his jacket, arm by arm. He scooted the chair out from underneath him and stood up. He turned away, as if he was about to leave, but I could see his muscles tense from underneath his jacket.

Slowly and quietly he whispered, "Maybe Hey There Delilah could be our song." He shrugged his shoulders, and walked with no hesitation out of the door as the bells jingled. 

I sat there, 

Not knowing and not caring,

I picked up my notebook,

I cleaned off my pen,

I took out my music,

and began to write again.

The highway cars slowed down,

as Hey There Delilah, 

came to an end.