*** “I can’t believe he actually said that,” you cried out, hugging your knees.
“I know, I can’t believe it either,” Peyton, one of your closest friends, said, placing her arm around your shoulders.
She looked at the time on her phone, and softly let go of your embrace, before raising herself from the mattress.
“I gotta go, Will’s waiting for me outside.”
”Do you need anything before I leave?” she asked.
”No, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping me,”
”It’s fine. I’ll come back later, okay?” she added.
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
As you sat back on your bed, your eyes caught a small stuffed moose, stuck under an old tee that probably hadn’t been washed since you and Shawn moved in.
You picked it up from the floor and brushed off the dust that was on it. The more you looked at it, the more you could hear Shawn’s terrible attempt of speaking French.
You brought the small toy to your nose. It still had that maple syrup odor.
You threw it at your door in frustration and let yourself collapse onto the bed.
”I’m so fucking stupid,” you said with a loud sob.
“I guess that changes everything,” Shawn had said, letting go of your hands.
“What do you mean?” you asked, frowning your eyebrows in confusion.
“We’re fucking soulmates y/n! We can’t just go and pretend this won’t change anything!” Shawn yelled.
“Ar-are you upset that, that it’s me? That I am your soulmate?” you questioned, looking straight at him.
Shawn stayed silent and looked away.
“Answer me!” you yelled, ignoring the tears running down your cheeks.
“You can’t fucking blame me y/n! All my life I’ve been told that the day I would meet my soulmate would be the best of my life. That I would instantly know that it’s her. That we would connect,” Shawn exclaimed.
“And I just can’t believe that it’s you,”
“I mean, we don’t have any of this! We’re just two best friends,” he said, lowering his voice.
“What did you expect? That it would be some dumbass bitch, randomly turning the corner? That you would look at her and you’d know it was the one?” you screamed.
“Y/n I didn’t …” he started, walking closer to you.
“And all this time I thoughtyou liked me back,” you scoffed.
“God, I’m so stupid,”
“Y/n..” Shawn said, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you raged, pushing his hand away.
“Y/n please it’s not what I meant!” he pleaded.
“I don’t care if you meant it or not, it still fucking hurts!” you said, facing him.
*** When you finally had stop crying for more than 15 minutes, you stood up from the bed and walked into the living room.
You were extremely tired from all that crying and the only thing you wanted was to relax.
Once you had made yourself a nice cup of tea and took all the blankets that was in the appartement, you sat down on the couch and rolled into the blanket.
You opened the tv and zapped the programs until you found something that wasn’t talking about gross things or too romantic, which end up being: High school musical.
“Why are they always singing?” you commented, halfway through the movie.
“I mean they could d-“ you started, but immediately stopped when you heard the doorknob jiggle.
Panicking, you hid yourself under the pile of blanket.
The sound of the door creaking was heard followed by a muffled voice that you rapidly identified as Shawn’s.
“Get the fuck out of here,” you said, throwing away the blankets.
“Jesus y/n, don’t ever do this again,” he panted, placing one of his hand on his chest.
“Get out!” you yelled, pushing him away.
“You can’t kick me out of my own apartment y/n,” Shawn objected.
“Yes I can! Now get out of here!” you raised your voice.
“I won’t fucking leave until you let me explain myself,” Shawn said, closing the door.
“Fine. If you won’t leave, then I’ll leave,” you fumed, furiously walking to your room.
You took out one of your backpack in your closet and threw everything you could fit into the bag.
“Y/n, for god’s sake, just let me talk to you!” Shawn exclaimed, as he walked into the room.
“No! You already hurt me once and I don’t fucking want to be hurt another time!” you hissed.
Before you could do anything, Shawn firmly grabbed your wrist and pushed your bag away.
“Let go of my arm!” you snapped, tugging at your wrist.
“God dammit y/n it’s not what I meant!” he huffed.
“What I meant was that I felt so fucking stupid for not realizing that it was you,” he admitted.
“It had always been you y/n,”
“And yes, yes I love you too y/n. You could never imagine how much you mean to me,” he added, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
“I’m so sorry,” you cried, throwing yourself into his arms.
“It’s okay y/n,” Shawn murmured softly into your ear.
“Please don’t cry,” he said, leaving small kisses on top of your head.
hey its me back at it again with a fic no on wanted!!
word count: 945
warnings: panic attacks, anxiety, thunder storms, shitty writing that’s it i think (???
You sit in the corner of the room shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. It was late in the night, or early in the morning rather around one am you woke up about a half hour ago to the sound of thunder outside.
You’ve had a lifelong fear of thunder for reasons you’ve never been able to figure out. Different therapists and doctors had concluded it was a side effect of your anxiety. So here you are at one in the morning having yet another panic attack from the storm. Thankfully your boyfriend, Shawn, was still out at the studio.
He’d called you a few hours prior saying he’d gotten a great idea for a song, and not to wait up because he wouldn’t be home for a while. This wasn’t uncommon as he was it the midst of creating his third album and he’d often stayed out late to work.
Most nights you’d be upset by this wanting to fall asleep in his arms instead of wishing he was there. However tonight you couldn’t be more thankful. The two of you were a fairly new couple and you’d yet to tell him about your anxiety. You knew it would be so much easier to tell him. but you didn’t want him to think less of you or see you as weak.
Despite the relief you felt of Shawn not being here, part of you wishes he was here to wrap you up in his arms and comfort you. You let out another loud sob as you hear the thunder rumble outside. Maybe it was the sound of the rain and thunder outside, or maybe it was the sound of your sobs, whatever it was you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps walking down the hallway and, you certainly didn’t hear the door open.
“Y/N?” You hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend call out. You let out a loud sob as a response unable to form words.
“Baby what’s wrong?” he says in a concerned manner walking over to you.
“The storm.” You manage to choke out in between sobs. He gently grips your face with both hands carefully wiping the pads of his thumbs under your eyes.
“Y/N why didn’t you tell me?” He questions softly as he pulls you into his lap. You shake your head gently hoping he’d understand that you didn’t want to talk about it right now. Thankfully he seems to understand as instead of questioning you further he pulls you closer to him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. As the thunder continues to clap outside Shawn gently lifts you and carries you toward the bed.
He lays you down pulling the covers over you before quickly pulling of his shirt and pants and climbing in next to you. He pulls you close to him and you lay your head on his chest. For the next half hour before you fall asleep Shawn softly sings to you in a successful attempt to comfort you. Eventually you fall asleep to the sound of his voice feeling safe in his arms.
The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You sigh and turn to the clock on your bedside table which read 10:34. You immediately assume Shawn has left for the studio as he usually leaves around 9, however most days you’re awake when he leaves.
You feel a little relief as this means you won’t have to face the awkwardness of the conversation about your anxiety. This relief however is quickly replaced with the guilt you feel for not telling him about it. You think back to how caring he was last night. He didn’t interrogate you about it and respected that you didn’t want to talk about it, and he certainly didn’t tell you to ‘just get over it’. Both of which have happened in the past.
You throw the covers off of you and stand up walking out into your kitchen. However instead of an empty kitchen you’re greeted with your boyfriend making his usual coffee.
“Y/N you’re awake!” He says.
“Ya,” You nod. “I just woke up.” He strides over to you and presses a kiss yo your forehead.
“Well good morning.” He says handing you a cup of tea. “So,” He begins. “I was researching about anxiety this morning because like I gotta know how to take care of my girl, and apparently caffeine is really bad for anxiety so I made you herbal tea.” You begin giggling softly at how caring he’s being. “Oh God, did I do something wrong I know I shouldn’t have assumed it was anxiety. It’s just I had a friend back in high school who had anxiety and she used to get panic attacks like you had last night oh gosh I’m so sorry.” He quickly rushes out.
“No it’s anxiety you’re right I’ve just never had anyone care this much.” You tell him.
“Well get used to it.” he stated pulling you into a hug.
“Why aren’t you at work?” You question softly.
“You really think I would leave you home alone after last night? I want to spend the day with you.” He states. “I’m sorry.” You whisper softly. “For what baby?’ He says resting his head on top of yours.
“For not telling you it was stupid of me, and for making you miss work.” You mumble into his chest. “No babe don’t be sorry for any of that, but please don’t keep stuff like this from me.” he says pulling away to look you in the eyes.
“I won’t I promise.” You say leaning in to touch your lips to his.