chapter eighty-four
fake
[anya rose steinburg]
-
"hey, rose! grab my phone!" shawn yells at me, pressing his nose against the glass of butterbeer he's holding.

"shawn, my names not rose!" i complain, picking up his phone, and sliding it to the camera app.

"okay shh, just take a picture of me with this." he says suddenly, smirking at me. "rose, hurry up!"

"dude, my names not rose!" i yell at him, folding my arms. "i'll only take the photo if you say my name right."

"fine," he grumbles. "so... an-rose!" he chuckles.

"that's it, i'm leaving." i glare at him, standing up and taking his phone with me out of the small room we are in for the butterbeer, straight to the outside part of the studio tour, known as the backlot.

"wait, wait, anya!" he shouts after me, running close behind me. "hunny, i'm sorry."

"i was kidding, shawn." i chuckle, turning around, seeing him look at me confused.

"you need to stop doing that sort of thing to me." he glares playfully at me. "i got so scared, anya."

"hey, you know i joke with you." i say softly, cupping his cheek. "i'm sorry, shawn."

"you made me so fucking scared." he whispers, pecking my forehead. "stop it."

"shawn, hey, what's up?" i say, concerned and looking over his face. "come on, look where we are, calm down baby."

"i just got worried- i don't want us to fall apart again." he says softly.

"shawn, don't think like that." i tell him, running my hands through his hair. "we won't fall apart again."

"you don't know that." he mumbles, looking down at the floor. "i'm just so fucking worried, all the god damn time. do you wanna know why i'm so much more closer and more affectionate now? i don't wanna lose you."

"you won't." i whisper. "shawn, i love you, okay?"

"i love you more baby." he croaks out, hugging my waist. "now lets go explore!"

"you're so crazy." i shake my head at him, as he laughs, letting go of me and holding onto my hand instead, as we make our way around the sets outside. "shawn, how many people do you think are gonna be at the hotel tonight?"

"maybe about 40, i don't know. you can go up while i take pictures." he shrugs, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"no, its not that, it's just the fact that they already know we're in london." i say. "oh well, i'll take their pics so you can get full bodies instead."

"anya, are you sure? we have no jake right now, let alone any sort of bodyguard." he stops us as we walk, placing his hand on my waist and looking at me concerned. "we can easily sneak away from the hotel- or we could go through the entrance where no one waits, you know, the one that faces the river."

"well we don't even know if they're gonna be here, let's just enjoy our time and worry about it when we get there." i peck his cheek softly, before both of us continue walking around.

"shawn, go pose with buckbeak." i laugh, as he walks around, wide eyed. "act really scared."

"i'm not posing, why don't you pose?" he jokes, nudging my hip.

"i asked you, now go be beautiful." i push him gently to the railing next to the hippogriff, and he glares at me playfully, as i snap a picture with my phone camera. "stunning!"

"you're something else." he shakes his head at me jokingly, as i chuckle. "alright, let's go take a stroll, m'lady." shawn says, attempting a british accent, as he holds onto my hand, rushing down the set of diagon alley with me. he turns around, sending me a wide smile, before looking around in astonishment.
-
"you know, sometimes i should steal your t-shirts, since you steal mine." shawn giggles, taking a sip of his beer, as i pull over one of his shirts over my head for bed. "would they fit?"

"of course not!" i laugh. "you need to go to sleep shawn, you're drunk." i chuckle, running my hand through his curls of hair.

"but my beer." he moans. "you know i only like coming to europe because i can drink freely, that's why i hate america. i can't drink there."

"you still do." i quickly mumble, as shawn chuckles, finishing off his bottle of beer. "it's not like it's bad, you can drink in canada now, you're 19 now." i tell him.

"oh yeah." he shrugs, hiccuping. "anya, will you cuddle with me?"

"of course baby, lets get you changed first." i say, chuckling, and grabbing his hands in mine, leading him to the bedroom of our suite.

"you always seem to do this." shawn yawns, as i pull his shirt off of his chest. "like whenever-" he hiccups. "-i'm drunk, you always clean me up."

"well you do it for me." i chuckle. "remember australia?" he lets out a squeaky giggle.

"you fell on your face." he laughs, as i pull his tracksuits bottoms on. "that was funny."

"and now this is funny." i peck his cheek gently, pulling a t-shirt over him. "there we go." i say quietly, before he flops onto the bed, cuddling up to the cushions, shutting his eyes.

"i'm sorry." shawn yawns, as soon as i lie down, after changing and brushing my teeth myself. i look at him confused, turning onto my side so i am facing him. "i'm such an idiot."

"shawn, hun? what's up?" i ask him, as he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"you don't deserve to be cheated on." he mumbles. "i-i shouldn't have done it." i feel my heart drop, as shawn sighs again. "i hate drinking."

maybe he's only saying this because he's drunk, and making things up on the spot. maybe he's faking it. maybe he's talking about a song. maybe. no, what am i saying? it's the matter of being certain about things, and i have no idea about the occurrences.

"w-what do you mean?" i stutter out, after a few brief moments. then, i hear quiet snores, and realise that shawn has fallen asleep, his eyes fluttered shut, and his hands clutching a pillow like he would hold me.

did he cheat on me? would he cheat on me?

after tossing and turning and falling in and out of sleep, i sit up, swinging my legs over the bed, making me rise, and wander over to the balcony, pulling a blanket off of the bed, before sitting down in the open air, the chill of the october night setting over my bare shoulders. i wrap the blanket around my shivering body, feeling the warmth immediately radiating off of it, as the sun begins to rise.

tears prick my eyes, and i let a single one roll down my cheek, pulling my knees to my chest, hugging them close to me. i sniffle quietly, looking back into the room, seeing shawn out of the bed, gazing at me through the closed door, almost debating something with himself.

"i said something, didn't i? last night." he speaks softly, opening up the balcony door, and leaning against the wall.

"who was it?" i croak out, tears filling my eyes again.

"i can't tell you that." he looks down in shame, his voice cracking.

"why shawn? it's not hard to tell me a name." i glare at him through my tears, as he sighs, throwing his head back, and running his hands over his face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"because," he sighs, wiping his cheeks. "she was a drunk mistake, i don't know her name, heck i don't even know her hair colour."

"how far?" i croak out, looking over the river outside our hotel room view, folding my arms together.

"making out." he answers simply, sitting in the other chair on the balcony.

"where?"

"rio." he whispers, looking down at his hands.

we sit in silence for what seems like hours, but is only a mere few minutes, before i get up and wander back inside, my mind aching with the thoughts running through my head.

he said it was a drunk mistake, should i really be reacting like this? i don't want to cause or start any drama between us, and he does seem genuinely guilty about it. but, the secrets, and the fact he kept up the lie for a month, a whole entire month that we spent together.

"anya?" shawn asks softly, coming back into the room and shutting the balcony door. "i'm gonna go and get some breakfast, do you want anything?" i look up at him, seeing his eyes puffy and bloodshot, tear stains lying on his cheeks.

"come here." i whisper, holding my arms out to him. he sighs, walking into my embrace, and crying into my shoulder as i wrap my arms around his neck.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, i-i didn't even know what i was doing- or where i was- i can't remember much, but i'm sorry." he cries over and over again, as i run my hands through his hair, salty tears running down my cheeks.

"shh." i whisper, pecking his cheek gently.

"why aren't you mad with me?" he croaks out. "damn, anya, i'm so sorry." he whispers.

"because i trust you shawn, and i don't want to fight." i say back to him, rubbing his back. "we've all done stuff when we've been drunk, shawn, it's fine."

"baby," he cries into my shoulder again, sniffling softly. "i don't deserve you."

"yes you do shawn, you deserve everything in the world." i remind him, running my hands through his curls.

"i'm sorry, baby, i really am." he looks up from my neck, facing me directly. "i'm sorry."

"i'll go and get us some breakfast, you stay here." i say, looking up at his eyes filling with tears all over again. i feel a tear slide down my cheek, and shawn quickly cups my cheek, wiping it away.

"don't cry." he whispers. how can he even say that? i'm basically saying it's okay that he cheated on me! what am i doing?

"how can you even say that?" i croak out, sniffling. "you cheated on me."

"i'm so sorry." he mumbles. i sigh, looking down and wiping my eyes. "anya i thought you just wanted to move on?"

"i do! i mean- i don't, no i do- i don't know." i shut my eyes, sitting on the bed, and leaning my hand on my head. "i want to go home."

"but hunny, we're going to paris tomorrow-"

"paris?" i ask, raising my eyebrows.

"it was supposed to be a surprise." he mumbles, as i look up at him. "i can book you a flight to toronto if you really don't wanna come."

"no shawn- toronto isn't home." i say shakily. "the hamptons is home."

"oh." he says, his voice cracking. "i'll book you a flight." he walks to his suitcase, taking out his laptop and plugging it into an outlet.

i bite my fingernails, concentrating on a spot on the carpeted floor, tears pooling at my eyes. i'm breaking his heart, again.

"shawn." i say softly, looking up at him. "stop it."

"what?" he sighs, looking straight at me. "why?"

"i'm not gonna ruin the plans you made." and i also really want to go to paris. "don't book me a flight back."

"oh thank god." he mumbles, shutting his laptop and standing up again. "so-"

"i wanna be alone today." i quickly say. "i need to think."

"o-okay." shawn stutters out. "i'm going for a shower." he walks into the bathroom, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

we were doing so good, what happened?
-
should anya forgive shawn?

fyi: don't hate, this is 100% based off of a personal situation