Shawn Mendes Imagines (Editing + Open Requests)

♬3.3 - Rain

Imagine your walking home in the rain when Shawn drives past you. He backs up then tells you to get in.

You try to yank your hood over your head again, but it keeps blowing back. Eventually you just hold it with one hand, walking fast, trying to keep the rain from soaking the inside of your jacket.

The last time you got stuck in a rainstorm like this was in middle school. Back when you walked home every day and the weather had some personal vendetta against you.

High school changed everything—too far to walk, so you took the bus. Then you got your license, and walking became something you simply... didn't do.

And yet here you were. Walking. In a downpour.
Because your idiot boyfriend was supposed to be your ride.
And when he started being a dick, you stormed out.

You and Dustin never really got along. The whole relationship felt... forced. Forced the way homophobic parents force their gay son to pretend he likes girls. Honestly, sometimes you wondered if Dustin was gay—maybe that would explain why he was always angry. Especially at you.

Cars drive past, splashing water, probably laughing or pointing or thinking about hitting the giant puddle right beside you.
You know they are.
Because it's exactly what you would do when you saw someone walking in the rain.

A black Jeep passes you, slows, then hits the brakes.
Oh God.
Please don't back up.
Please don't back—

It backs up.

The passenger window rolls down.
Shawn.

"What are you doing?" he asks, staring at you like you're a soggy stray cat.

"What does it look like? I'm strolling through a rainforest," you say with a tired smile.

"Get in the car."
He's already grinning when you open the door.

You and Shawn have always been close—too close for you to feel comfortable dumping all your problems on him. He's the kind of person who would run into a burning building for the people he loves, and sometimes you feel guilty that he always tries to take care of you.
You're technically older. You're supposed to take care of him, right?

"What happened?" he asks as the heater blasts warm air at your freezing fingers.

"Just another argument," you mumble, watching the rain streak down the window.

"Want me to go beat him up?"
Shawn tries to sound threatening. It comes out about as dangerous as a golden retriever.

You laugh. "No."

"Well, Mom and Dad made pizza for dinner," he says, punching your arm lightly. "So that's something to look forward to."

You finally look at him, smiling despite everything.

"Thanks, Shawn."

"For what?"

"For being a good brother. For stopping. For picking me up off the side of the road in the middle of a storm. You know how many siblings wouldn't do that?"

He shrugs like it's obvious.
"I know you and Aaliyah would do it for me. We're lucky. We're family, but we choose to be best friends."

"Cheesy."

"But true."

"Yeah, but..." you sigh dramatically, "still cheesy."

Shawn laughs, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.

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