Shawn Mendes Imagines

Lost Love (Sad? Cute? Fluff? IDK)

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

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He leaned against the balcony of his second-story apartment, the snowflakes falling gently against his eyelashes as the bitter winter breeze brushed up against his exposed skin.

Shawn loved the winter. While most thought of it as a bitter season with darkness, Shawn saw it as a time for sleeping, a time for nature to rest so it could regroup for spring.

She loved the winter too.

She had been born for winter, at least, that's what Shawn had always believed. Always dressed in either white or an icy blue, like she was snow in human form.

When Shawn had asked her why those colors meant so much to her, she would never give him a straight answer, but then again, Shawn didn't expect her to, for that was her way.

She wasn't one to give a person a straight answer until they tried to figure it out for themselves. Especially when the discussion was about her. She'd leave little hints but never gave the full version of herself.

Shawn almost had the full version of her. Almost. He didn't figure her out all the way, but he had some of her down.

Shawn loved having her in his arms on those long, cold winter nights, when they could have deep discussions about the world and it's problems, wondering if they'd ever be fixed.

While she wanted a fast-paced ending to each problem, Shawn had been of the opinion that problems couldn't be solved overnight–you had to break them down and study them to get to a conclusion.

They often laid in the snow under the stars and talked about what the future would hold for them.

She didn't want to know what the future held for her–she wanted her future to be a surprise, each day taken as it went, and leave tomorrow for tomorrow.

Shawn, on the other hand, had to plan each day out, had to know what the future held for him, had to know what was going to happen and when.

Shawn knew that somewhere, in another country, in another town, she was having these exact same discussions with another soul, someone who was either starry-eyed like her or had their head in the clouds as Shawn did.

Shawn remembered the last day he'd seen her, the day she had come to him dressed in black, a stark contrast to her usual white or ice blue.

She explained to him that things hadn't felt right for a while, that she no longer had the vibe to have these late-night discussions with him anymore, and that they had to find other loves.

She told him, straight forward, that she wished him no will-ill and that she wanted nothing but the best for him, nothing but good things in life, and that he'd be happy.

Nothing hurt more than a lost love. 

🥳🥳🥳

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