#Yeah so the tone shift is really riveting i’m so hooked already and ready for more

[bipediam]

.

[the-navistar-carol]

Intervention

Good God help me I’m back on my Garmari again. AGAIN. Class salt, but not Alya, Alix is neutral (so minor Alix salt?). Chloé redemption, but it’s not mentioned. Also, members of the new team at the end are PV Félix and his Gucci Gang

~~~

Marinette never thought she’d thank Chloé Bourgeois, of all people, for her boyfriend.

Backtrack.

A year and a half ago, their end-of-year class trip was the best one they had had or ever would. Funding, from Chloé’s father, went to a weeklong trip to San Francisco. They toured Alcatraz, the different neighborhoods, the Ghirardelli factory, and walked the Golden Gate Bridge.

None of those events even came close to the Teen Titans’ tower in San Francisco Bay. They didn’t go inside, obviously, but almost every day, in their allotted free time, she found herself at a harborside café, sketching the tower and designs that came to her from it and its team.

It was those quiet times that, incidentally, got her into contact with the team shapeshifter, Beast Boy.

Marinette had been sitting on a dock for a change, doodling idly as her legs swung from a bench — she was still too short for her feet to touch the ground at fifteen. Tikki dozed in her purse, stuffed full of chocolate.

As the sun began to make its way toward the horizon, she got up and placed the sketchbook in her backpack. Then, like the sun, she began to head home.

That journey would quickly be delayed. A man, hood up and all in dark clothes, snatched her purse and took off like a shot.

Tikki!

The Parisian girl sprinted after him, shouting for help. If she had been transformed, perhaps she would have taken him down faster.

But perhaps it was for the better. A green blur shot out of an alley and knocked into the would-be thief with a forceful missile kick, quickly apprehending the man. Marinette skidded to a halt to avoid running him over, and was caught in a pair of dark brown eyes.

Oh, hello there.

He grinned toothily, and held up her clutch purse. “Does this happen to be yours?”

“Oui!” Marinette’s hands flew to her mouth, and she couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment. “Oh! I am sorry, yes, it is.” Despite years of learning English, she couldn’t help but stammer with her accent.

The green boy fished out a pair of cuffs and locked them around the thief’s wrists, and kept a hold on them with his left hand as he held out his right. “I’m Beast Boy. Nice to meet you, though it would’ve been better under different circumstances.”

She shook his hand, and couldn’t help a sheepish smile. “Well, um, if you would like to try again,” Marinette suggested, already flushing, “I will be close to Hyde Street Pier, on the waterfront, close to three o’clock tomorrow.”

His grin only widened. “Can’t wait!” Beast Boy hauled the man to his feet, and glanced back at her. “Oh, hey, by the way — what’s your name?”

“I’m Marinette!”

“See you tomorrow, Marinette!”

That fateful encounter sparked a close friendship, which blossomed into an even closer relationship.

Marinette was grateful that the stars had aligned that day. She wouldn’t be where she was in life without him, if she was being completely honest.

She and Gar were open about their identities to each other, and when he came over on his bimonthly visit via Zeta tubes, they spent their days inside cuddling, watching movies, and playing video games.

The only thing that irked both of them was the fact that their relationship was one-hundred-percent secret from the press, as neither wanted that publicity.

Ergo, they couldn’t be seen in public together.

Therefore, they couldn’t go on dates, no matter how much they wanted to.

At least they had reached a compromise. Until Hawkmoth was defeated, on her own terms, they couldn’t be seen together. Even if her own terms, which would take more time, involved no outside help.

When Lila Rossi entered Françoise Dupont for the first time, Marinette didn’t have to be Ladybug to see through her lies. She claimed extravagant tales of meeting American superheroes on her mother’s travels — of the Teen Titans in New York City, of the Batfamily in Gotham, and of some group she had completely made up — the Gems of Justice, of all names.

Yeah, no. She didn’t have to be a superheroine to spot the bullcrap a mile away.

She tried to keep the whole situation quiet, though, she really did. Marinette didn’t want to burden Gar with class drama. After all, she was well aware that they only had so much time together.

But just like how she had tried to keep being Ladybug from him, that plan fell through in a matter of hours.

He held her when she sniffled over Lila’s threat, and let her slump back into him as she described how her classmates (sans Alya, bless her heart) were riveted by this Italian liar nobody who somehow held their attention.

She held onto the hope that they would all see reason, sometime.

That hope shattered when Alya moved away. Her parents wanted out from the living nightmare of Akumatown, as all four of their daughters had been akumatized at least once apiece.

Marinette sobbed, for the first time alone in the city of love.

It was midnight when she called him on her first night without her bestie, bawling into the phone line.

It was twenty minutes past when he showed up on her balcony, and she almost tackled them both over the railing. She let her emotions pour out onto his shoulder and he held her tight; and when she ran out of tears to cry, he held her until she fell asleep in her bed.

In the morning, he let her sleep in a little bit, and made her pancakes (with green food coloring, of course, because how else would he?). She cried again upon seeing the food, but there were thankful tears mixed among the sad ones.

Marinette left her house with her head held high.

Without her rock Alya at her side, Lila’s digs and jibes became worse. She took the mental hits, took the comments. Snide words turned into sneering faces turned into trips in the hallways, turned into destroyed work.

She resigned from the class presidency, choking down tears.

How could she have let it get this bad?

She should have stood up to it, so it could have stopped before it all began!

Oh, Alya…

Trips in the hallways turned to shoving at the steps, turned into stolen things.

Garfield, in the Titan Tower, had had a slow week. He’d only gone to visit Marinette a few days ago, but when Raven flicked his shoulder and told him he was moping, he headed off to the tubes to pay his girlfriend a surprise visit.

He emerged in Paris and immediately morphed into a bird, flying high above the city. He didn’t want the attention that came with his ability, not today.

As her school wasn’t out yet, Gar soared around Paris, taking in the sights. No matter how many times he came to the city, the views still left him amazed.

And Marinette with him, when they could go to those places, would leave him breathless.

As the hour wound closer, he headed over to Collège François Dupont, and took a perch on one of the flagpoles, content to wait for the time being.

The bell rang to let the classes out, and he shifted on his seat, eager to catch a glimpse of his girlfriend.

There!

She was one of the first out, and he readied his wings to swoop down to her and sweep Marinette off her feet. He was almost in flight when he stopped dead, dread washing over him like a tidal wave.

A tall Asian boy with an undercut and bleached hair hurried after her, his sneakered feet hitting the cement with a self-righteous purpose.

And a pack was following him.

Her classmates — a pale girl with long black hair, a dark-skinned boy with close-cropped hair, a short blonde girl, a tall blonde boy, and more — were in close pursuit.

And behind them strode a brunette, her wedged heels clicking with her own purpose. Green eyes watched all as her lips curled into a deadly, sickly smirk.

All attention was on Marinette, who hurried to go home, shoulders hunched.

He had left her alone like this.

“Hey!” the Asian boy called, and a robot whizzed in front of his girlfriend, bringing her up short.

She froze, and slowly turned to face him. Marinette was dwarfed by his massive frame, and she was terrified of what might happen next.

His hands came to rest on his hips, and he cocked his head in a leer. “Don’t think you’ve gotten away with what you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Her tone was shrill, it was panicked. “Kim, I didn’t do anything!”

An ugly frown twisted his face. “Then maybe you’ll remember!”

Faster than she could react, his hand raised and descended.

But Garfield reacted faster.

In a blink, he took off like a shot and dove down at the Asian boy, then shifted back to human form midair to launch himself at the boy feet-first like a missile. His boots hit the boy in the back of the neck, and man, was he satisfied to see him fall.

“G- Beast Boy?!” Marinette’s panicked whisper told him she was only a hair away from a complete breakdown.

The classmates hurriedly backpedaled, clearing a ring for him in the crowd that was quickly forming.

Gar hauled the boy — Kim — up by his hoodie collar. Despite his scrawny figure, he was lean, and packed a punch.

“I don’t like bullies,” he hissed as his eyes narrowed to slits. Kim quaked in his grasp, catching a good look at his fangs. “And if I catch you even looking at her wrong, you’ll wish you had never met her.”

Someone in the crowd was foolish enough to step forward and speak up. It was the dark-skinned boy with glasses, and his robot had flown back to be at his side. “My calculations prove that there is a ninety-percent chance that Marinette is the one at fault.”

He felt his girlfriend shrink beside him. It was tempting to shift into a tiger and intimidate the lot of them.

But instead his lips twitched into a smile, instead he grinned. The hook in his mouth had never been so cold.

“Then I suggest you check your calculations, buddy boy.” The class flinched back from his tone alone — it flashed knives, razor-sharp and ready to cut.

“All of you better watch your backs, ‘cause I’ll be waiting for an opening.” His voice spilled from his throat in an angry growl. If he had been a tiger, his tail would have lashed.

“I’m giving you one warning. Scram.”

The class took off and scattered, one of them even darting into the street.

Gar didn’t spare them a second glance before turning back to Marinette and hugging her tight. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her perfume. “I should be there for you, not an ocean away.”

Her arms snaked around his sides and clutched him tight. Her entire body was shaking like a leaf, so he gently rubbed her back.

“Hey, hey. Marinette, let’s get back to your room, okay?” Any trace of the snarl he had bared at her classmates was gone; his voice was gentle now, it was soothing.

She sniffled, and hiccuped once as she tried to get her breathing under control. “Okay.” Her voice was quiet, subdued. There was no trace of the sassy girl he had met who loved life fiercely with all her heart.

Anger built inside him but he dispelled it, thanking Raven for forcing him to learn meditation.

After he picked up her bag, Gar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “It’s not that far. You can make it.”

Another subdued “okay” was all the response he got.

He led her across the street, ignoring the looks passers-by threw him and even the phone cameras.

Once she was inside the bakery, a shocked gasp let him know Sabine Cheng had seen them. She rushed out from behind the counter to hug her daughter tight, then led the two of them to their living room upstairs.

After he had set down her bag and the three of them were seated on the couch, Sabine with her arm around Marinette and Garfield holding her hand, his girlfriend finally broke down, sobbing into her mother’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to make tea?” he offered, knowing Sabine didn’t want to leave her daughter’s side.

The older woman nodded. “Please. Peony.”

He gave Marinette’s hand a squeeze and got up, finding the kettle and mugs easily. While he waited for the water to heat up, he sat back down next to her.

Sabine looked to him, gray eyes piercing. “What happened, Garfield?”

He told her everything. How he had watched her come out of the school and saw Kim go straight for Marinette on an offense she hadn’t committed.

“It’s Lila,” his girlfriend muttered, her voice muffled by her mother’s shirt. “She’s influenced them all except Alix.”

That didn’t help matters.

“But Alix didn’t defend you,” Gar told her gently. “They all, one way or another, abandoned you.”

Marinette hiccuped, finally looking up at him. A bolt of pain shot through his heart at the face looking him in the eyes — red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and a running nose.

“They abandoned me,” she repeated, her voice hollow. “I have nobody.”

“You’ve got me,” Garfield reminded her, taking her hands and squeezing them tight. “You’ve got two parents who love you more than anything in the world. And, if I called them now, you have the Teen Titans. All of them would stand for you. Every last one of them.”

The kettle whistled, and he got up to steep the tea. He heard Sabine murmur to her daughter in Cantonese, things he didn’t understand but knew the intent. He returned to the couch with three mugs balanced carefully on a tray, and set it down on the table.

“Mrs. Cheng, I don’t know if you’ve considered it, but have you thought of moving schools?”

She nodded, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I have. And I think that it would be best.”

Marinette didn’t even flinch, just numbly nodded. His heart broke to see her so lifeless, and he pulled her into a tight hug. He almost had to blink back tears of his own, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Let me help with this, Mrs. Cheng. Please.”

Sabine nodded. “I will. How long are you going to stay in Paris?”

“As long as I’m needed.”

And he did. He stayed.

Garfield was the one to march into Françoise Dupont to deliver the paperwork to Damocles, his chin up and shoulders back. Even if he was at average height — and shorter than a good half of the school — they cleared a path for him, the school yard silent enough to drop a pin.

He didn’t spare them a parting glance.

Gar was the one to walk her to her new school, where she was mobbed by Kagami, Luka, and Chloé. They thanked him, each thank-you heartfelt, and he grinned, knowing his girlfriend was in good hands.

He was there for her first week, and went back to the Tower knowing she had friends to support her there.

And when Hawkmoth was finally defeated months later, with a new team and a new Chat Noir, he pulled Marinette into a searing kiss as the rain began to wash Paris clean.

[jawnjendes]

mystery | shawn mendes

oof its been a while since ive written anything.

university au, shawn x goth gf

~2k words

masterlist | series playlist

~

“You're really mysterious, you know that?” Shawn smiled as he placed his hand on the shoulder of my driver's seat.

It was only endearing because it came from him, my boyfriend of 2 months. Anyone else who pointed out my reserved nature was blacklisted in my mind. Apparently it's borderline offensive to not want to delve into personal details about your life.

I've always been a listener. An observer. An introvert. I guess I looked that way too from the lack of color in my wardrobe. How would I end up with someone like Shawn, right?

He had a lot to talk about. He had a lot going on in his life. From family, to work, to music, to university. He was not one to shy away from basic human interaction. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about things he was passionate about won me over. He had ambitions and goals and killer abs. So I decided to keep him around. I wasn't sure why he kept me around.

Shawn said he liked my silence. To him, it was something like a chase, and the moments where I did open up to him are worth it. Of course, he liked to poke fun at me and call me a hermit, but he's cute and my boyfriend, so I allowed it.

“It's kinda what you get for having a goth gf,” I responded meekly.

We had been driving around all night long. Shawn had asked if I was having fun, to which I replied a simple “yes.” A lack of run on sentences is what made Shawn compelled to say the thing I'm told everyday of my life. Maybe he thought I was supposed to be less tense now that some time had passed between us.

Where's that photo of Bruce Banner when you need it?

“Hey, I like this goth mystery you got going on,” he told me. “Makes me wanna turn goth too.”

I chuckled. “You're too much of an open book, my dear.”

“Seriously, though. We need to get deep.”

If this was a cartoon, my eyes would have widened out of their sockets and my heart would have pounded out of my chest. I mean I felt the effect, but as always, it was internal.

“Deep how?” I asked. “Like, you wanna share childhood traumas or something?”

“Yes, that's perfect!” Shawn sounded less sarcastic and more serious. “Just share whatever you want with the class.”

“You say that like I'm hiding something.”

The car slowed to a stop in front of an intersection. Shawn didn't say anything for a hot minute, which made me look at him.

“No, I don't think that,” he finally said. “I just need to know if you're still into this.”

What the fuck is happening? What is he trying to do?

“Well, yeah,” I told him. “We're here. On a date. Heading to your place right now.”

Shawn nodded. “You're not wrong. But what I mean is… you don't really talk a lot.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Hey, I told you the riveting tale of my wisdom tooth removal.”

“Babe. You know what I mean. I don't know that much about your family, or where you come from. Past relationships, your friends back home.”

Haven't dated a guy who's an overthinker. Haven't dated a guy who actually wanted to know these things.

I'm just really shit at talking. And I have what my therapist calls a “wall” up.

I hesitated, watching the street light turn green. “Any other concerns?”

Shawn cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. His tone softened a little bit. “Do you still like me?”

“Of course I do. I mean, you'll definitely know that when we get to yours.” Dear god, please let that suffice.

~

It sufficed. Shawn was happy, for the night at least.

I felt happy too, I was just internally shoving it all into a bottle. Waking up next to Shawn made my cold, mysterious heart swell so much I thought I was going to puke up butterflies and glitter. No one needed to know that, though. I already spent the night with him.

We were still spooning by the time Shawn woke up. Even in his sleep he had a firm hold on me, so I couldn't plan an impulsive escape. Yeah, I wanted to escape.

He kissed my neck, but it didn't have the same affect it did last night. I just had my eyes hyper focused on my phone that was on the nightstand. This was a rare time I wanted someone to call me due to an emergency. Get me the fuck out of here.

“I have to go,” I said, my clear voice breaking the warm, hazy silence.

“No, stay,” Shawn mumbled, hugging my waist a little tighter.

“I have a work thing.” Not a lie, but it sure felt like one. Last night I planned to ditch the mandatory work luncheon. Thank god I didn't mention that plan out loud.

Luckily, Shawn knew how seriously I took my glamorous office job, so he let me go and rolled onto his back. I didn't look at him as I climbed out of bed and grabbed my clothes. Once I was in my shirt and underwear, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I had a new text from my manager, Stacy.

“Hey, sorry to be so last minute, but the luncheon had been moved to the same time tomorrow. See you then!”

Okay, now I was lying. Fuck.

“You have fun last night?” asked Shawn from the bed.

The sound of his sleepy, euphoric voice sent a chill down my spine. He really knows what he's doing, which is why I had to get out of here. Fool me once.

“Yeah,” I said shortly as I bent over to get my pants.

When I was fully dressed, I felt a pit in my stomach. I didn't really want to leave, but I already knew how this was going to play out. I didn't want this sick cycle to repeat itself again. I needed something to send me off.

I turned towards the bed and leaned down onto the mattress, now looking at Shawn. He was dozing off again, but awoke at my movements. He sat up on his elbow, smiling at me.

“You sure you don't wanna stay?” he offered.

“Can't skip work,” I replied. Then, I leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. I hadn't been so intoxicated since-

“Mm, text me, okay?” Shawn asked, to which I loosely promised.

As soon as I was in the car again, I pieced it together. How convenient was it that Shawn wanted emotional reassurance as we headed back to his place. Of course he played up being sensitive and wanting me to be open. He knew I wouldn't use words, so he made me think I was in control. In reality, I was being played like a Nintendo Switch. Of course he wanted me to text him. It was so he could have an excuse not to do it himself. Oh my god I got fucking played.

The only thing I knew what to do was to keep myself busy and away from my phone. If anyone could play the Silent Game, it was me. I was the ruling champion. I wasn't going to crack, no matter how much I wanted to.

Here I thought I had someone different. Someone actually nice. But jeez, men really are the worst. How many more times was this going to happen to me?

My fears were even more confirmed as the silence stretched into the night. I found myself going to bed alone and quite sad. At least last time I got played, I knew what I was getting into. Shame on me for thinking Shawn would be different.

But I was stronger now, and I knew better now. It was time to get a move on.

~

“You know,” I said, rubbing my hands together the way that I usually on these days, “it's one thing to use me and kick me to the curb. But he really thinks he can come back for for seconds. How arrogant and heartless must he be?”

I had spent the last thirty minutes getting my therapist, Callie, up to speed. I hadn't seen her in just over a month, so I told her about my night with Shawn and the silence that followed the last three days. She was good with validating phrases like “he did not!” but that was as far as it went.

“So he tried to contact you again?” Callie said as she wrote on her clipboard. “What did he say?”

It was embarrassing how quickly I had burned Shawn's text into my brain. Then again, I don't think I did that voluntarily.

“All he said was ‘hey I miss you.’” I folded my arms and rolled my eyes.

“Why do you seem upset by that?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't have one. “I… I wouldn't say upset…”

Callie nodded. “Okay, what word would you use? Disappointed? Disgruntled?”

“I don't know. When I saw the text, I just thought he wanted to hook up, and ignore me once again.”

She stopped writing for a second. “You know, from what you've told me about Shawn, he seems like the last person to want to hurt you like that. You told me you were in a relationship, right? It's not just a friends with benefits situation?”

I nodded. “Yeah, he asked me to be his girlfriend like, two months ago.”

“So where is this fear and distrust coming from?”

Fear. Distrust. Weariness. Tip toeing. No sudden moves just in case he changes his mind and doesn't tell me.

I sighed. “Luca.”

Callie already knew that, she just needed me to say it. “It came from your time with Luca. It was a very one sided and unhealthy relationship, so of course you would keep your guard up now. And since Shawn is the first person you've dated since Luca, it's a bit scary to make yourself vulnerable again.”

The words sank in for a minute. As soon as they were processed, I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. I'm a fucking idiot.

“Yeah…” The hand rubbing recommenced

“Have you told Shawn about Luca? Are you at that place where you can share those things?”

I shook my head. “No. I don't, I don't want him to think I'm hung up on someone, especially someone like Luca.”

“Yes, I see your point. However, I do think it would be good for Shawn to know why you're so-”

“Mysterious. He says that a lot. Everyone says that a lot.”

Callie smiled. “I was going to say closed off. It's important to share past experiences when you're ready.”

“I know he wants to know things about me, but I think my quiet self makes him think it's a game or something. It's fun for him. I think if I let him in and bare my soul he'll either get bored or freak out because I'm secretly crazy.”

“We don't say crazy,” Callie firmly reminded me.

“Anxious,” I corrected.

~

Being aware of your crap and overcoming your crap are 2 different things, as said by a wise lady on a hospital drama. I already got the awareness down, now I just had to suck up my pride and stubbornness in order to dump myself on Shawn's doorstep.

A week had gone by without much talk between us. It's hard to find a balance between staying interested and being clingy. Just the thought of that made me shake myself like I had to reboot my brain. I detested clinginess. It's not a dealbreaker, because it's basically inevitable. It was just my least favorite part of a relationship. I know, if I had a heart, it would just be a black hole. I don't know why Shawn chose me.

I let him know ahead of time that I was coming over. As always, he was excited and looking forward to it. I had to remind myself that this was a good thing. We are overcoming the crap now.

Obviously, I was nervous by the time I had pulled up in front of Shawn's place. I knew how to hold it down and remain composed, though. Part of what he liked was trying to read my face. At this point, I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't see myself going away because of it. I had plenty of things to say, I just needed Shawn to hear it.

I expected him to be broody and passive aggressive over the weeklong silence. Shawn was all smiles. He brought me some water. Sat me on the couch and draped me in a blanket. Everything seemed like it always was these last 2 months. It was strange territory. A guy being genuine and giving me non sexual attention was different.

Unless-

NO. SHUT UP.

“So what have you been up to?” I asked Shawn. “Feel like I haven't seen you in centuries.”

He chuckled and recalled his week. Shawn was a busy man. Turns out, he was catching up on coursework and picking up extra shifts at his job. Meanwhile, I made him think I was doing the exact same thing. Why? I don't know, my therapy sessions are once every 2 weeks. There's still a lot to unpack.

“Oh! I got a gig at this bar on Friday,” he told me with a nudge to my arm. “You should come.”

I would have been picking at my nails had I not been holding a glass of water. “Yeah, absolutely. I love watching you perform.”

“Awesome. It's a date.”

Oh thank god, we're still dating.

Unless-

OH MY GOD. SHUT UP.

“So…” I started with a big sigh. “I go to therapy.”

Shawn quirked his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Good segue. Long pause. Fuck. “Uh… I wanted to tell you because, uh… y'know, I share everything with my shrink. Like, everything.”

“Everything, eh? Including me?” A cute, boyish smile was creeping on his cute, boyish face.

I nodded, putting my glass down on the coffee table. “I talked about how I practically fled after we spent the night together. I talked about why I did that.”

The tiny smile disappeared from Shawn's face. He hadn't forgotten about that. Perhaps he didn't like my great escape.

“Yeah, why did you leave?” he asked softly.

My heart ached at his tone. To think I was so irrationally angry at him a week ago.

“I thought you only wanted one thing from me,” I admitted.

Shawn looked confused. “Why would you think that? We've been going out for two months, I don't understand. Did I do something?”

“No,” I told him. “It was never you. I just…” Ugh, words. I shifted around and started rubbing my hands together. Soul baring time. “It's… hard for me to believe that someone would want me for more than just my body. So I jumped through a lot of mental hoops to make myself think you were a person with bad intentions…”

“Why would you want to believe I wouldn't be good to you, though?” he asked.

I looked down at my hands. This was far too many emotions for me to share and feel at once. But he still didn't understand.

“Because…” I mumbled. “The guy who came before you wasn't good to me.”

“Oh…”

Dam. Burst.

“It's not sad at all,” I said quickly, fumbling with my fingers. “It's not as bad as you think. I never actually dated the guy, but I liked him so much that I just let him use me and toy with my feelings. I did whatever I could to keep him close...”

Shawn's big hands went over mine, calming my sporadic movements. He had a certain look on his face. He was listening, but careful not to speak out of turn.

“He and I never talked about feelings or anything,” I continued. “That wasn't a problem at first, because I don't talk about those things. But I never knew where anything was going and he never took me seriously whenever I tried to establish something with him. He acted like I was insane for trying to communicate. He would also ignore me for weeks at a time, and act like we never did anything. It drove me so crazy. I am a little crazy now because of him.”

I didn't realize I broke eye contact until the silence stretched a little too far. I looked back up at Shawn, nerves spilling out on the floor. I felt like such a mess.

“I gotta say,” Shawn spoke, “I've never heard you talk this much before.”

For a split second, I wanted to pummel him. But he offered a smile and squeezed my hands. The air wasn't that tense or awkward.

“But seriously,” he continued, “that helped me understand you a little better. I had no idea someone hurt you. You really liked him, eh?”

“Let me put it this way,” I said. “We never dated. But when I had enough and decided to cut him off, it hurt like a break up. It messed me up for a little bit. Intensified my anxiety issues.”

“I can’t believe someone treated you like that. You just seem so strong and unbreakable all of the time.”

“Well now you know what's behind the mystery. A crazy, nervous wreck.”

“Never would have guessed you were the nervous type.” Shawn kissed my hand. “I'm sorry you went through that. I'm glad that guy is out of your life now.”

“Me too.” A stream of incoherent sounds were still building up in my throat. “I know I started the silent game, but we can't do that. We can't not talk to each other. I know I'm quiet, but it does more harm than good.”

Shawn smiled wide. “I am so down for basic communication. And just so you know, I didn’t want you to leave last week. I don’t ever want you to leave.”

My knee jerk reaction was to brush it off. Okay, sure. You don’t mean that. But I squeezed his hand, and let out more cheesy feelings.

“I don’t wanna leave either.”