You struggled to open your swollen eyes as fresh sunlight spilled into your bedroom, Chloe pawing at your face and begging to be taken outside. You were disoriented, heart falling as memories of yesterday's events flooded your foggy mind. You were confident in your relationship with Shawn and then found out he was fucking someone else, someone he'd promised you didn't have to worry about. You got home and refused to comply with Geoff's wishes, your own sobs rocking you to sleep.

You peeled the sheets off of your body, a whiff of Shawn's scent twisting the searing pain in your chest as you shakily got to your feet. Chloe was scratching your ankles as you slowly made your way down the stairs, throwing an oversized jacket over the sweats you were wearing and stepping out of the front door. The cool air stung your burning eyes as you looked around the street, thanking heavens it was empty.

The rest of the morning entailed lots of moping around and feeling bad for yourself, leaving you grateful for it being a Saturday. You could hang around in bed all day and not worry about actual responsibilities, successfully locking yourself up and avoiding Shawn's attempts at communication at all costs.

It was around noon when you finally decided to shower, heart twisting as memories of Shawn washing your hair for you flooded into your mind. The tears erupted all over again, leaving you weeping as the water ran cold. You told yourself that crying in the shower didn't count because your face was already wet, allowing yourself to fully break down. Broken sobs, a heaving chest, and countless tears graced your tiny washroom, and you knew this wasn't even the beginning of what getting over him would feel like.

You slipped on a clean pair of sweatpants, walking into your closet to pick something cozy. You automatically opted for Shawn's knit sweater that you still hadn't given back, heart breaking once you pulled it over your head and realized that he wasn't yours anymore. The smell of him still served as somewhat of a comfort, leading you to keep the sweater on, which probably wasn't healthy. Neither was the entire tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream you proceeded to eat.

A knock at the door pulled you from your trance of sadness, Chloe going wild at the window. Not wanting to see anyone looking the way you did, you hushed your puppy and ignored the visitor, praying they'd just leave and never come back. You saw the figure retreat down the front steps to leave, prompting you to get up and watch what was going on from the window. A truck advertising a florist company drove off as you opened the door, met with a massive bouquet of white tulips on your welcome mat. You looked around and picked the bundle up, eyes immediately finding the note wedged between the upper stems.

"For you, baby. Just a reminder of how much you mean to me! Love, Shawn. xx" the card read, earning a scoff from you as you considered how much you "meant" to him. Clearly not enough to say no to a hot blonde. Just then you looked up to be met with a familiar pair of chestnut eyes. Shawn rounded the corner with Geoff as his shoes, eyes finding yours as if he were awaiting your reaction. Your heart twisted into a tight knot as your stare turned cold, a light shake of your head practically scolding him. Your gaze was set on his as you slowly leaned down to place the flowers back on your doorstep, and you swore his chocolate eyes were completely glossed over at your rejection. Without a word, you retreated back inside and locked the door behind you. Your phone was already ringing.

Shawn's face lit up your screen before you declined the call, sending it straight to voicemail and vowing to never listen to it. He called back six more times before resorting to text message, begging you to hear him out.

"Please, please just let me in."

"I'm so sorry, but you need to know what really happened."

"Baby, please. Just listen to me. Open the door."

The messages were along those lines and it killed you to leave him standing outside like that, but you really couldn't answer it. Not like this, not knowing you were bound to get hurt. She ended up inside his home. He told her the code, brought her up, let her in and locked the door, and then proceeded to try to hide it. Even if it wasn't what it looked like, this was probably going to happen eventually with someone so perfect. You knew it was too good to be true and you couldn't bear the thought of being hurt once you actually loved him.

But that was the problem. You did love him. You loved him deeply with every particle in your body and it killed you to be away from him, to brush him off like he was nothing. But that was exactly what he did to you.

He eventually left, you weren't sure how long after. The flowers were gone, too, and for a split second you wondered if they'd end up in the hands of somebody else, somebody like Melissa. You mentally cursed yourself for thinking such a thing.

You watched The Notebook and cried buckets, pausing every-so-often to dwell on the similarities between Shawn and Noah. Determined, charming, good-looking. The difference was that Noah actually loved Allie.

Evening came and went, leaving you without an appetite as you scrolled through Instagram. It was Saturday night and Shawn had an Instagram story, but you were hesitant to watch it because he'd know. You eventually gave in, seeing a video of a group of guys you'd never seen before watching the Jays game at a bar down the street. You wondered if he went out willingly or if his friends had to drag him out of his condo, aiding him in drinking his troubles away. You wondered if he'd get drunk tonight and call you at three in the morning. You wondered if he'd call her.

Tears stung your eyes once again as you wandered into the kitchen to raid the empty fridge. The sight of the flowers from last time–the ones from your first real date—broke your heart, petals turning brown as they drooped from their stems. It was all too fitting.

You stuffed your face with some bread, the only thing that wasn't totally grossing you out right now, and headed upstairs, curling up with Chloe and a good book.

Sunday's pain was pretty much the same, except Shawn wasn't here begging for you to take him back. Perhaps he'd given up after you failed to answer his predicted three AM calls. You wondered if he called someone else after, you wondered if he was waking up in someone else's bed. Or if someone else was in his bed, a bed that you imagined to be yours one day.

You tried to push the thoughts from your mind as feelings of loneliness took over the shock of Shawn's betrayal. You realized that you were kind of alone, having completely isolated yourself lately because of Shawn. Your parents lived pretty far and you didn't have many friends because you didn't live on campus, and this was the first time in your life that your independence wasn't quite fulfilling you. God, it would have been nice to have somebody—anybody—who knew you inside out.

A few uneventful hours passed before Geoff was testing his luck with you.

iMessage from Geoff: Dude, he's a mess. I exploded on him and he knows he fucked up, but you've gotta hear him out. It's not quite what you think.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you contemplated a response, finally deciding to just get it over with.

iMessage to Geoff: I don't care. Regardless of how much happened, too much happened. And I don't wanna risk the heartbreak. I'm sorry, I can't.

Geoff's typing bubble came and went, and then again. He didn't know what to say to that, probably conflicted because he wanted this to work out but could see that you had a point. He didn't text back, and a part of you wished he had. You wished he'd have given you an excuse to just give in and fix things with Shawn. Temporarily fix things.

Monday came with a new type of hurt—the physical kind. Your chest felt like it was imploding on itself at the mere thought of Shawn. You could feel your heartbeat stressfully speed up as you wondered where he was or what he was doing, and it pained you to know that you would no longer be a part of that. Your whole body ached with fatigue, accompanied by a pulled chest muscle from sobbing so hard. Shawn's characteristics continuously floated through your mind, a headache forming as you thought about the feeling of his soft curls and stubbly chin, or the way his rough fingers felt when they engulfed yours and squeezed. His eyes on you, his lips on you, his body on you—everything. Everything made you hurt.

Your heart sank as you saw that Melissa had recently added to her story, the feeling of heartburn being simulated in your chest. You felt hopeless and helpless, and you were painfully eager to know what she posted but also terrified of what you might find. Your curious side won, causing you to click her icon and brace yourself for what was to be seen.

Her story consisted of two instalments. One was a video of Shawn on the small stage at the bar as he rehearsed, an even more solemn version of Back To Black by Amy Winehouse spilling from his lips. It reminded you of the video you'd watched a couple weeks back, when you first discovered how incredibly talented he was. You saw the pain in his eyes as he sang softly, sitting on the stool as if he couldn't bear to stand up. It was cut short as her story flipped to another video, one of her face, up close and personal.

"Hey guys, just wanted to show you what's up before this stud heads out! How're we doin', Shawn?" she squeaked, flipping the camera to show him. He stood a little slumped over, scrolling through his phone and appearing unamused as he quickly looked up, shooting her phone a pathetic wave. It looked forced and unpleasant, and you felt for him. If he was going through anything like what you were, he was definitely hiding it well.

But he wasn't going through it. He fucked up, it was all on his accord. There was no reason to feel bad.

The days seem to drag on longer while time stood still, your feelings of helplessness turning into purposelessness. You were disappointed. Disappointed that you couldn't be upfront about your feelings and felt the need to be cowardly and give up, disappointed that Shawn had failed you as a boyfriend.

Your voicemail was full and you had over sixty missed calls from Shawn, eventually having sent a long text message saying he would respect your wishes is this was what you really wanted, but not without giving him a chance to explain. You didn't have the heart to respond, to explain why you couldn't fall back into it and how he'd broken your trust after you'd made yourself so vulnerable. It wasn't worth it, nothing seemed to be lately.

You snuggled up with Chloe and a glass of wine, drowning your thoughts until you'd finished the bottle. The tears started up all over again, transitioning into sobs as you realized how pathetic this was. You felt so alone, not even able to tell anyone about what was going on because no one knew. The one person who knew you best was a complete and utter dick, and you really didn't want to open up that line of communication again. Or did you?

You picked up your phone and dialled the number you knew by heart, instantly hanging up when Greg failed to answer on the second ring. Coming to your senses, you realized how stupid an idea it was and you mentally cursed yourself for letting it get that far. How pathetic.

You got up to take Chloe out, unlocking the door and taking your shoes out of the closet. You realized you'd left your phone in the living room and went back to get it, ending up slowly making your way to the washroom with every intention of peeing. You got held up once you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, eyes raking over your swollen features and messy hair. Your oversized sweatshirt was draped over your body, reaching your sweatpants-clad thighs. What a fucking mess.

The tears spilled over your lower lash line and dripped to the tile floor, breaking you down yet again. You felt dizzy, leaning back against the white wall and sliding down the hard surface. You sat on the floor, knees pressed to your chest as you tried to catch your breath and slow your cries. The guilt was beginning to eat away at your mind and heart as you regretted calling your ex-boyfriend, lost in the sobs echoing around the bathroom. Chloe was curled up at your feet for the first few minutes, but got up to leave when something else occupied her attention. You didn't bother to chase her around, too caught up in your own drunken troubles to care.

"Oh, honey," his voice startled you, causing you to snap your gaze up to the doorway.

Shawn was already on the floor with you, pulling you into his strong arms with a heartbroken expression on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you snapped, voice cracking as your sobs took over.

"Door was open, only way to talk to you," he spoke softly as you gave in, not bothering to fight his comfort. His arms wrapped around your shaking frame as you cried into his black t-shirt, relieved to have his scent surrounding you again.

"Shawn, I, I don't know what to s-" you began, voice cracking again as the tears grew more intense.

"Shh, shh, honey it's okay, you don't have to say anything," he cooed, holding you tight against his firm chest as he rocked you back and forth.

You cried and cried, eventually catching your breath and crawling out of his lap. You sat cross-legged in front of him, hands on his knees as you spoke, "Okay, I'm listening. You gonna tell me what happened?"

He looked at you with wide eyes, shocked that you were willing to hear him out.

"Uh, y-yes, of course," he said, placing his large hands over your small ones. "Rehearsal, Friday. Normal as ever, nothing weird or out of the ordinary. I even ordered flowers to your house mid-set," he spoke, thumb brushing the back of your hand as his eyes pleaded with your curious ones. "I took the long way home because I was in a good mood, all because of you," he smiled, reaching out to touch your cheek. You pressed your face into his palm and he continued, "I get home and she's sitting outside my apartment. I didn't let her in, I swear. She said the doorman told her where I lived," you raised your eyebrows, "Oh, don't worry. He was let go the next day. So, I ask what's going on and she starts weeping, mumbling something about her power being out, and that I had to let her in. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want bad blood but I didn't want to be friends, either. Eventually she was sobbing and I froze up and invited her in for a few minutes, just to collect herself. I know I shouldn't have, but I did, and I'm sorry," he paused, reaching around your small frame and scooting you a few inches closer. "Then she locks the fucking door and corners me, saying we need to stop denying the spark between us. I was like, what the fuck?" he said softly, your face completely in his hands at this point. "I told her to get out, and she wouldn't, and then you knocked and I didn't know what on earth she might say or do so I slipped out to see you. I didn't even have words, the pain on your face killed me on the spot. I didn't know where to start," his voice broke, tears forming in his eyes now, too. "You left and I was livid, and I screamed at her to get the hell out. She left and I was just a mess. Geoff got back and gave me an earful—which I deserved—and then we had a good talk and decided I needed to get you back. But it's not that easy when I fucked up so bad," he cried.

Your heart broke all over as you reached for his face, pulling him toward you into a tight hug. "Shh, Shawn, I got you," you whispered, overwhelmed by how much you'd truly missed him. "Baby, it's okay."

"W-what?" he snapped up, looking into your eyes, afraid he'd misheard you. "It's okay?"

"Shawn, you were just being nice, and nothing happened, right?" he shook his head. "Okay, well just work on saying no, then. I'm not mad," you said softly, relief rushing through your body as he took your face in his hands and planted a soft, tender kiss on your puffy lips. It felt like everything in the world was good again."Shawn, I've gotta tell you something."

"What is it?" he asked, forehead resting against yours.

"I called Greg," you said quietly, looking down at the floor you were both still sitting on.

"What? Honey, why?" he questioned, face contorting and then falling, sad and worried and angry all at once.

"Honestly, it's a lot. Don't worry, I hung up on the second ring. But I was really scared," you spoke, tears starting up again. "I just felt, I felt alone, you know? There was no one I could tell, or just interact with, and like, he knows me, so, I thought it was a good idea, but then I realized it was a bad one and I'd rather be completely alone than have him in my life."

"Oh, honey," Shawn said softly, "You never have to feel like that again, ever, okay? I've got you," he cooed, pulling you closer as he hushed your gentle sobs.

"You're not mad?" you mumbled.

"I'm mad you felt like you couldn't call me, but that's my own goddamn fault," he said sternly. "I'm mad at myself for hurting you. I can't be away from you."

"I don't like it either," you responded, "But I wouldn't have called you, Shawn."

"I wish you would have," he said softly, the warmth of his neck warming your cheek. "I want to be your everything, baby," he muttered, leaning back to look into your eyes. "I need you to know how much you mean to me. I need you to know that I'm so gone, head-over-heels, no-turning-back, utterly and completely falling in love with you."

You felt as if your heart had burst, overwhelmed with relief and joy and love.

"You are everything, Shawn," you replied, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his cheek, "I'm so in love with you."

His face lit up as more tears fell, pulling you in for a very wet kiss on the bathroom floor. His hands were in your hair, and then they were on your thighs, and then they were on your face, his touch fire on your skin and you couldn't get enough.

"I love you," he muttered, kissing you softly, "I love you," he muttered again, kissing your forehead, "I love you," he said once more, pulling your body against his for a warm hug. You sat there in silence, overcome with emotion and kind of confused at how things turned around so quickly, until you were interrupted by a low grumble.

"Hungry?" he laughed, moving your face to look at him. You nodded. "Babe, when did you last eat?" You bit your lip, thinking back over the last few days.

"A meal? Shawn, I haven't had an appetite for days," you confessed.

"Days?" he asked, surprised. He instantly got up to his feet, pulling you toward the kitchen with him. "Let's fix that," he spoke softly, pulling out a bar stool for you to have a seat and retrieving a blanket off the couch. He came up behind you and wrapped it around your shoulders before planting a soft kiss on your cheek and opening your fridge, realizing the only ingredients you had were for breakfast food.

"Breakfast-for-dinner it is," he smiled, pulling a pan from beneath the counter and somehow finding enough things to make some kind of omelette.

"Shawn, why are you doing this?" you laughed.

"Because I love you," he replied softly, meeting your tired gaze with a boyish smirk.

"No, I mean, why don't we just order something?" you asked, laughing when a look of confusion crossed his face.

"Oh, shit. I didn't even think of that," he giggled, "But seriously, babe, you're telling me you don't want a love omelette?"

"A love omelette?" you blinked.

"Yeah, an omelette made with love, because I love you," he smiled again, leaning over the counter for a soft kiss before resuming his kitchen creation.