Shawn Mendes Imagines

Sit Still (Cute)

THESE IMAGINES ARE NOT MINE!!! I JUST EDITED THEM A LITTLE!!

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Sighing again, I erased the same line I'd drawn at least 300 times now.

"Shawn!" I almost shouted, exasperated.

"What?!" Shawn asked, startled by my outburst since it'd been quiet in my room for a while now.

"Can you please sit still? I've been trying to draw your jaw and ear for the past, like, 30 minutes and every time I think I've got it down or am close to getting it down, you squirm and I have to start all over again!"

"Sorry, Y/N! It's just hard to sit in this position for so looonnggg," he said, dragging out the last word.

I let out a frustrated growl and he smirked.

"Well, what position do you prefer?" I rubbed my temples in frustration.

I swear, I loved this boy but he sure knew how to test my patience.

"Mm, missionary, to be honest," he shrugged, his face devoid of emotion like it always was right before he cracked up at his own joke.

"Ugghh, fuck you!" I whacked him in the arm with my sketchpad, his shoulders shaking as he roared with laughter.

He could be so immature sometimes. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't love his immature sense of humor.

"I wish you would," he smirked, eyes shining with mirth.

"It's a good thing you're cute," I grumbled, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

"Why?" He asked, sporting a shit-eating grin.

"Because if you weren't I'd be using this pencil to stab you, instead of using it to draw your stupid cute face."

"Oh my god, am I your muse?" He asked dramatically

"No, you're my pain in the ass," I rolled my eyes.

He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, "She called me her pain in the ass."

"Alright, Romeo, calm down. Now can you please sit still?"

"Only if I can sit on the floor, cross-legged," he said, smoothing his clothes.

"Anything to get you to sit still," I said, moving off the chair I was sitting on, to plop myself on my floor.

He stepped off the stool I'd sat him in originally and sat cross-legged in front of me. He turned his head to the side like he'd had it before, clenching his jaw.

I dragged my eyes away from the delicious sight of his side profile to sketch it more accurately. A few minutes had passed, the only sound in the room was some relaxing music I'd put on low, the sound of lead scratching over the paper, and our soft breaths. I had moved on to drawing Shawns's broad shoulders, trying to get the shading and outline right when Shawn's voice broke the silence.

"I never asked you what your project was for, Y/N."

I almost dropped my pencil, leaving a crooked line that I quickly erased.

"It's a drawing project," I said, trying to avoid answering truthfully.

"No shit, Sherlock," out of the corner of my eyes I could see a smirk on his face before he went back to talking. "I mean, why'd you pick me for it? Every assignment you've gotten so far in your drawing class has come with some prompt. Some reason behind why you're drawing the thing."