Shawn Mendes Imagines

41. Porch Swing Angel - Muscadine Bloodline

Shawn's perspective

"Shaaaawn !" She screams and runs the last few feet between the both of us. Once she reaches the front door, I can finally feel her arms wrapped tight around me as she hugs me. My arms do the same as hers and pull her petite body closer to mine, my chin resting on the top of her head as her cheek is pressed against my chest. Her hair still smells the same : a light note of coconut. She knows how much I love that scent, and I'm pretty sure she washes her hair with that shampoo on purpose.

"I missed you." She whispers against me, still holding me tightly. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

So I wasn't just me...

"I missed you too, Y/N."

We let each other go and she smiles back at me as a gust of wind tousles her hair. I can't help but stare at her for a moment. The sun highlights her luscious hair and makes her eyes sparkle. She's dressed casually but that's what I prefer the most on her : maroon cotton shorts, plain white tank top and her old cherished black Vans.

"Are you ok ?" She giggles and I realize I've been gazing at her for too long. I nod and let out an embarrassed laugh followed by a quiet "yeah". I rub the back of my neck in nervousness. She chuckles again and my cheeks turn slightly pink when I hear the cute little sounds she makes. I'm weak, I know it.

"A-Alright. Wanna come inside ? I made some tea for you." I offer and she nods her head vigorously.

*

"So," She starts as I pour some tea in the cup right in front of her on the kitchen counter. "How was that festivals run ? We haven't seen you a lot since your album came out."

"It was amazing. I love festivals. I feel different on stage like... I don't know. You know, you have to prove your worth. People aren't there for you but for other artists and you have to show them that your music is worth it too. It's like a challenge. You want people to say at the end of your performance "Wow, who was that guy ? I fuckin' loved it." There's always that rush of adrenaline when I go on stage and it's kind of addicting." I pause for a moment as memories flow widely in my mind. "Not the same than my own tour though." I shurg after a few more seconds of reflexion.

I make a brief eye contact with her and I see she's smiling and looking at me intently. She has always enjoyed listening to my stories about my job. It amazes her every time and "it makes her feel proud" as she says.

"It's nice to have you here, Shawn. I mean here, in Pickering. Not Toronto. I like when you come back to see your parents because I can see you too." I chuckle a bit and I earn a weird look in response.

"You know you can visit me even if I'm in Toronto, right ? I think you have your driving license since you're 16 too." She rolls her eyes at me as she takes a sip of the hot beverage she's holding in both hands, elbows on the counter.

"Shaaawn," She groans. "That's not what I meant. I like when you're back at your parents'. It reminds me the countless memories we've made here. Remember when we were in high school ? I was always around. Your parents once told me I was the adopted child of the family."

I laugh as I remember the way my dad told her those words after another dinner spent with her. I swear she has slept and had dinner in this house as many times as I have.

"Yes, I remember that. My mother even asked me once why I had that many clothes on my bedroom floor. It wasn't even mine. It was your hoodies that you didn't like because, according to you, "mine were softer and more comfortable" so you would always end up stealing mine and leaving yours here."