You went downstairs after fully unpacking to find four boys actually cooking. All four of them. Each was doing something in the kitchen, even though Ian was just kind of lost, pretending to get work done.

"Uh, what's going on in here?" you asked, trying to hold back a bit of laughter.

"Well, usually we take turns, or order-in. But you're here now and we want you to feel welcome, so we're all pitching in a bit for a nice dinner. Welcome home," Brian smiled as the boiling water in the pot on the stove overflowed, sizzling and smoking like mad.

"It's made with love, I promise," Shawn added, looking up at you but immediately looking down when you caught his eye.

Again with the saying nice things. What the hell? "Well, what can I do to help?" you asked and Brian pointed you to the cutlery drawer as you proceeded to set the table.

Dinner was half-decent tasting as the five of you sat at the round table, talking about upcoming assignments and things you wish you'd have known coming into college. The boys then told you how it worked at their house, what the regular routine was, and so on. You fit right in and things were going great. Shawn hadn't said anything rude or confrontational, and you find of forgot that you were supposed to hate him.

It wasn't until you put an entire meatball in your mouth that things got a little weird. They weren't little meatballs, either. They were freaking huge. But you were listening and not really thinking and managed to fit the whole thing in your mouth with ease, catching Shawn shifting in his seat out of the corner of your eye. No one else noticed, but you were sure you heard him release a small "Oh my god," under his breath. Positive he was judging you for pigging out, you looked over at him, catching his eye. "That was so hot," he said jokingly, but there seemed to be almost an ounce of truth to it. You giggled.

You helped clear the table, insisting on washing the dishes after Shawn said he'd do it. You'd finally worn him down, but he was keen on doing the drying. You soaped and washed each dish, handing it over to Shawn to dry it. He'd reach some high cupboard to put it away that you wouldn't even think to keep dishes in. Being tall sure had its advantages, and you were positive you'd be climbing all over the counters to get plates and mugs for the next few weeks.

Matt decided last-minute to go hang out with his girlfriend, leaving the four of you to decide on a game. "We really only have a deck of cards, so looks like we're playing euchre. Ian, you're my partner," Brian stated, pointing at Ian and directing him to sit opposite him at the table, "Y/N, that leaves you and Shawn."

"What?!" you said as Shawn smiled, taking a seat across from you.

"You guys all know how to play? Deal goes to first black jack, we pass on or order up a trump suit, and then play for tricks, which is really just winning the hand that was just played. First team to win ten rounds wins the game. Cool?" he said, confusing Shawn a little. You grew up playing euchre, so you were fine, and Ian didn't seem to be too intimidated.

Picking up on Shawn's uneasiness, you turned to Brian, "Why don't we play an open hand, you know, just for practice?"

You looked over at Shawn as he mouthed a "Thank you," your way. You winked at him, subtly nodding your head in his direction.

Brian ended up dealing and you were to his left, meaning you had to lead. The first open hand was a little slow because you explained every single thing you did and why you did it, which was kind of embarrassing but you knew Shawn needed the help. He picked it up pretty quick, and you were soon playing real rounds. You and Shawn were dominating, and each time you'd win a round, you'd feel his socked foot brush against yours. Normally this would cause you to pull away, but you didn't. You ended up just resting your foot on his for the entire game until you won. It was kind of... nice?

The four of you exchanged playful banter and then fell pretty silent as the air grew thick. Something was off, and Shawn wasn't too happy anymore. He'd flipped in the last few minutes, and everyone could feel it.

"Time for a movie, then?" Ian said as he stoop up, putting the cards back in their trusty elastic band.

"Yep. We're watching 10 Cloverfield Lane. Shawn said it's not too scary, he's seen it before," Brian said, walking over to the living room and hooking his laptop up to the television. You followed, stationing yourself on the loveseat facing the screen. On each side of the little couch were two comfy chairs, one of which was already occupied by Brian. Ian came in, placing his phone on the other chair and claiming it as his before retreating to the kitchen to make some popcorn. Shawn came in with four beers, one for each of you, and planted himself beside you on the couch but as far away as possible.

The movie wasn't even that scary, but the sound effects and semi-pop-ups had you freaking the fuck out. You flinched every time, earning a giggle from Brian. At first, Shawn thought it was funny, but that was until you were covering your eyes, scared of what might come on the screen next. Lifting his right shoulder, he gave you permission to cozy up to his chest. He placed a strong arm on your back as you inhaled his scent: sweet and minty with a hint of honey–something you'd never taken the time or had the chance to smell before.

You grew used to the tone of the movie and weren't too scared anymore. Shawn may or may not have had something to do with your sudden feeling of comfort. Shawn began rubbing small circles on your side with his thumb, indicating something scary might be coming. You appreciated the warning, and took a moment to crane your neck and look up at him. Oh. My. God. you thought to yourself. What the fuck? He was gorgeous. Literally gorgeous. His loose waves fell along the top of his forehead as his lips formed a little smile, turned up at the corners of his mouth. His chocolate eyes were already on you, burning a hole into your heart. He lightly shook his head, reverting his gaze back to the television screen. What an angel, you thought. No way could this be the guy who'd been torturing you for months.

The movie grew fuzzy as exhaustion came over you, fighting to keep your heavy eyelids open. Before you knew it, you'd fallen asleep in the arms of a person you thought you knew.

When you woke up, it was just Shawn. Brian and Ian had gone to sleep, and you wondered why he hadn't woken you up. Looking up at him for the second time of the night, you noticed his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed as his mouth hung slightly open. He'd fallen asleep, too.

"Shawn," you whispered, getting up and patting his right thigh with your left hand, "Shawn. Come on, you have to go to sleep."

"Hmmm?" he deeply slurred, eyes opening and finding yours.

"Gotta go to bed," you said, pushing yourself off the couch as he agreed and did the same.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand and leading you to the bottom of the stairs.

"Shawn, what are you doing? Isn't your room in the basement?"

"Yeah, but I gotta tuck you in," he said through a yawn, reaching to cover his mouth. You didn't object. It was sweet, really. He led you into your room, peeling back the covers for you, and pulled them up to your neck once you'd laid down.

"Thank you, Shawn," you said as he looked down at you, trying not to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

"No problem. Sleep well, okay?" he said, walking backwards toward the doorway. A sudden feeling came over you. What was going on here? Why were you craving Shawn's affection?

"Wait, Shawn? Shawn?" you said, lifting yourself onto your elbows.

Instantly, he popped his head back in, "Yeah?"

"Did you wanna, uh, just, stay? Like, crash here?" you asked, reverting your gaze, embarrassed of your request.

"Umm, yeah. Yeah, sure. Thanks," he said as he walked to the other side of your bed, crawling in and laying down on your right, turning away from you. There was a pause of silence for a moment.

"Did you wanna, uh, like, maybe, snuggle, or something?" you asked into the dark silence. No response. "I mean, we don't have to. It's fi-" you felt that same strong arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you into Shawn's warm chest.

He buried his face in your hair, breathing heavily as you could feel his heart beating on your shoulder.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered, and you could have sworn it sounded like he was smiling.

Drifting off into a deep slumber, your mind was at ease. You felt safe, protected by the cage that was Shawn Mendes, the boy who'd been picking on you for what seemed like forever. Nothing mattered in this very moment. You were content. Content and carefree, until you woke up the next morning to an empty bed.