Stitches [Shawn Mendes x Suicidal Male!Reader Modern AU]

Six

*Shawn Mendes POV*

Day two of detention, and (Y/n) looks terrible. No not in a mean way, he just looks terrible. The bags under his eyes look like really dark bruises, like he has black eyes just without the swelling.
His hair looks abnormally messy and his (e/c) eyes look empty and bloodshot.

I sit watch from my seat as he sits down, in the back of the class, and he turns his head away and stares and stares and stares at anything but me. His eyes looked like he exhaled life with every breath.
I stared in concern, but his eyes flashed up to mine and the sudden emotion there intimidated me.
He didn't look angry, he didn't look sad, he looked like someone had poured betrayal, depression and pure unadulterated fury into a blender.
I looked down and turned back around in my seat as the teacher enters and I have a staring contest with the lyrics written in the desk.
I'm not at all surprised that (Y/n) is mad. He has every right to be considering that I not only invaded his privacy by pulling up his sleeve to see his cuts, but asked him how he got them like a total dumbass.

Then the lyrics sink into my brain and I stare in shock for a moment before I remember.
That's right, (Y/n) say here yesterday...I shouldn't be surprised that he'd write lyrics again. I smile to myself.
They read,
I thought that I'd been hurt before
But no ones ever left me quite this sore
Your words cut deeper than a knife
Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

And it just stops. I'm not sure why, but I expected it to go on longer. I roll my pen between my fingers, staring at them, mouthing the words to myself over and over until words begin to play in my brain and sing in my ears.
The words pound inside my skull until I finally write them, slowly but surely I find them coming easier and easier.

Got a feeling that I'm going under
But I know that I'll make it out alive
If I quit calling you my lover
Move on
You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
I'm shaking falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches
I'm tripping over myself
Aching begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches

I know he isn't my lover exactly but I still imagine it as him I'm writing the lyrics about and yes I've never kissed him but damn...I want to.
"What are you doing?" (Y/n)'s sudden revival of speech startles me.
I turn and look up, and he's standing right next to me, looking at the lyrics.
"Um, I'm just-"
"Vandalizing?" He asks sarcastically, but I can hear a small curious hint to his voice.
"Yeah, but I was just following your lead." I prompt, willing him to look at me. My wish is granted and his (e/c) eyes turn to mine, and for a moment I can't help but stare.
"How did you know I did it?" He asks me cautiously.
"Well, you sat here yesterday, and your Instagram is full of your lyrics." I say, hoping he won't get angry at me again.

He stared at it, and I watch his eyes flit across the words, readingand rereading them.
"Well, I think of them as poems. And I didn't know you were his good at writing them." He praises me and smiles softly at me. I feel my cheeks heat up and I pray I'm not as fiery red as I feel.
"Thanks. But you're definitely better." I say, and the sound of footsteps makes him quickly head to his seat, I hadn't even noticed the teacher leave because I was so absorbed in writing.
I replay our conversation in my head, and soon I have it memorized and I store the memory safely in my heart and that's when I decide.

I'm gonna risk it, and ask him out as soon as I can.