Mr. Mendes | shawn mendes

twenty-four.

"What made you want to start teaching, Mr. Mendes?" I asked, my computer opened so I could record his answer.

I had chosen the coffee shop in hopes of us being around lots of people in public, but to my misfortune, the shop was completely empty.

The two of us sat at a table near the back where we wouldn't be disturbed, not that it mattered anyways. I took a sip of my coffee after asking my question, head tilted slightly as I looked up to him.

"Well," Shawn began, licking his lips for a moment before continuing. "I had teachers growing up who weren't the best, especially when I took biology. I remember thinking. 'I never wanna be a horrible teacher like this', so it started from there."

"So teaching was something you always wanted to do?"

"Not necessarily. I went to school for medicine, actually. I wanted to learn as much of the human body as possible." He nodded. "I got my degree in physical therapy. I did that for awhile, then decided to come back here to where I was raised."

I was slightly shocked; I had no clue that Shawn had even gone to school for something other than teaching. We had never talked about it.

Not only was the asshole good looking, but he was also one intelligent son of a bitch.

"Why didn't you do physical therapy here?" I asked, this time out of curiosity itself.

"Well, East High had reached out to me, and offered to pay me a bit above teacher's salary due to my degree. I remember my horrible biology teacher in high school and figured I'd do it and be better than she was."

I continued to ask him a few more questions, silently thanking whatever higher power that he hadn't tried anything unprofessional.

After about forty five minutes, we had finished the interview and I had clicked my camera on. I scrolled through the photos as Shawn finished his coffee, my breath catching slightly as I came across a certain picture.

The picture was the one I had taken of Shawn in our hotel room a few weeks ago; the one where he was grinning up at the camera. My eyes began to burn slightly with tears before I blinked them away as Shawn broke my thoughts.

"Miss Ange? Everything okay?" He asked, concern all over his features.

I could tell he was trying to stay professional as I nodded, glancing up at him while I shut my laptop and reached for my bag.

"Fine, Mr. Mendes." I hummed, letting out a small sigh before standing from my chair. "There's a small art alley around the corner, sir. I was thinking we could take the photos there?"

"Whatever you'd like, Julianna." He spoke, nodding his head before standing up from his own seat.

We threw our trash before we stepped out of the shop, awkward silence surrounding us as we rounded the corner to the empty alley. I glanced up at the displays of graffiti, my favorite form of art, before I stepped back to look at Shawn.

"I think if you just kinda, look into the camera for a few shots, then off in the distance, we should be good." I spoke, making sure the camera settings were right.

I began to take the photos, trying not to drool over how good Shawn looked. I might've hated him in this moment, but I couldn't deny the fact that I wanted to jump his bones.

After a few minutes, I set my camera down before stepping towards him, my cheeks flushing slightly as I spoke.

"Do you mind if I fix your hair?" I asked, chewing gently on my lower lip.