So Far Gone
1.5k words of ~hOpEFully~ good n merry content [ hereâs other content as well ]
You straighten the tight white dress you wore after watching Clueless and realizing that you should wear the article of clothing more often. It was a mistake. Your thighs and the fabric were slightly sticking together from all the warm sweat accumulating caused by the humid apartment packed with people.
âY/N, c'mere and have another drink!â Tom yells from the kitchen situated on the other side of the crowded apartment.
It was Tomâs birthday party and you could never pass up anything he invites you to. You could have a sprained ankle and he can still convince you to come. Currently, you are honestly unaware of how many tequila shots youâve downed since you got there but youâve been saying 3 since then.
Itâs 12:30 now and youâve talked to more people than you have in your entire life mainly because all of them where pretty chatty and drunk, rambling aimlessly and disappearing after a minute or so.
You catch a glimpse of Shawn Mendes, whoâs having a conversation with Tom as of the moment. They were by the marble counter in the kitchen, pouring drinks and chatting simultaneously
The two of you havenât met yet but you kinda wish you would tonightâor maybe itâs just the alcohol that sparks a false sense of confidence in you.
âWhoâs the pretty girl?â Shawn asks his friend, vaguely pointing your direction discreetly.
âWhite dress?â Tom asks, eyebrows raising briefly.
âOh, alright, so you agree that sheâs pretty, eh?â he teases, smiling to himself. He adjusts his polo, pulling it down to expose more of his skin.
âWell, she is. I mean, sheâs really great. I met her way back⌠like 2â3 years, I think.â
âDamn man. Youâre late 3 years then on not telling me about her, sheesh,â he replies, getting lost in your movements and the way you steal a few quick glances his way.
âGo talk to her,â he says, playfully pushing him forward. âOh, by the way, her nameâs Y/N.â
âFuck man, not too loud!â he screams back, embarrassed of you hearing that heâd been talking about you to Tom. The numerous beers he drank earlier are now hitting him and itâs not a cute sight with him fumbling around the flat.
He quickly unbuttons the fourth button on his polo, adorned with pink flamingos, as he nears the girl he had his eyes on since the night began.
Patiently tapping his leather boot-clad foot on the wooden flooring a few inches away from you, he waits for your conversation with his friendâs girlfriend to die off.
But he couldnât wait. A good 30 seconds had passed and he just had to hear your voice. He taps your shoulder two times, lost in the way your hair falls to the side as you turn your head to face him. You mumble a soft âexcuse meâ to end your former chat, followed by a 'see you aroundâ to close it off.
âMay I help you?â
Fuck. Your voice is as hot as he expectedâwell, maybe a little deeper but dear god was it better.
Taking a moment to bring himself back to life, he stutters, âIâm Shawn,â looking like a damn fool in front of the prettiest girl in the room.
âI know who you are,â you laugh, giving him a name he could call you by.
He says your name again to himself and you couldnât help but blush at how he says it. With your name rolling off his tongue and how his lips move slowly to make sure he pronounced it correctly, you were surely as lost in him as he is with you. The only difference being you mastering the art of keeping a straight face, leaving him completely clueless to what youâre thinking.
âYouâre very beautiful, not being creepy.â
âOh wow, why thank you,â you blush, shifting your weight to your left. You wish you had another drink so you could sip forever and avoid conversation. âYouâre not so bad yourself,â you add, noticing his dark chocolate curls that bounce ever-so-slightly with every movement.
âHow come we havenât met before? You knew Tom way back, right?â
âDamn, howâd you know that? Been talking about me, eh?â you tease. You specifically made sure that you squint your eyes slightly and tip your head to the side a bit just to push some of his buttons.
âHmm, yeah, I was. How could I not? With you burning your eyes through me a few times, I gotta know your name in case you start a fire 'round here,â he smirks, diverting his gaze.
âWow, Iâm that hot, huh?â
âNo, 'cause you look like someone to commit arson,â he jokes, laughing before taking a sip from his cup.
âYouâd be my first victim,â you joke back.
âBecause Iâm the only person here whoâs hotter than you and you donât like competition?â
âNo, 'cause I fucking hate you.â
âShit, feisty, eh?â
You hated him. He knew how to play it well and he was getting you goodânot that youâre complaining or anything. And with that good sense of humour? Two can play this game and youâre not someone who loses.
Moving your hair to side, you expose your neck briefly, seeing him make a quick glance, giving you a sense of satisfaction. You start walking away from him to fetch another drink, hips swaying softly, hoping heâd come after you. You reach the kitchen and look for a bottle of beer inside the oak cabinets.
âI got it,â he speaks up as you bend over and reach your hand down to grab the bottle below the counter. He slides his hand down your back, stopping just below the small of it before pushing you to the side. He grabs two bottles, opening one and handing it to you.
âThanks, but I could very well do it myself,â you mumble, letting him hold you and lead you towards the balcony.
âYeah, but I wouldnât want you bending over like that any longer,â he whispers, his back leaning against the metal railing.
âCouldnât handle it?â you tease, mimicking his position but with your body facing the opposite way.
You take a moment to just appreciate the view, with all the tiny orbs of light decorating the skyline and the stars dotting across the dark sky. You face him briefly, finding some kind of reaction.
âTorontoâs beautiful,â you spark up a chat once again, taking a sip of your drink and observing his features. You couldnât help but observe every curve of his face, noticing little freckles on his neck as well.
âNah,â he says back, tucking a twirl of hair behind your ear. âYou are,â he adds.
You laugh in response, unable to construct something witty to say back. âReally?â
âYes, Iâm dead serious,â he says, looking at you in the eye, and inching forward. âHot too, if I may addâgod, bending over for me and shit.â
âUghâcut the shit, man,â you reply, sick of the little flirt game you had going on. âOkay, you got me 'ight. Iâve completely fallen for you tonight so stop talking me down like that.â
âToo far?â he now sounds concerned, moving his drink to his right hand to scratch the back of his neck with his left.
âNo!â you voice rises, leaning forward towards him. âJust stop sweet talking. You got me alreadyâgod, justâtalk to me,â you persist, looking into his eyes, that reflected the lights from the party.
âOkay, umââ
âTell me about what you love to do, or your family, what music you listen to, or just you,â you ramble on, looking up and inhaling deeply.
You were so gone. Searching his eyes for depthâanythingâsomething. You were sure as hell that there was something beyond his cocky aura, a soft side perhaps.
And so his composure broke. The night falling deeper as you both share stories from your childhood, forgetting about maybe scoring a one night stand with someone from the party.
Itâs all a blur; one drink turning into four. His features were softer and gloomier now, making you check the time. 2 AM. You look around, scanning your eyes through the sheer glass of the vast apartment and seeing less people since the last time you checked. Tom passed out on the couch, while Brian roamed around the TV, struggling to find the button that turns the device on.
âWanna come back to my place?â Shawn suggests, tapping his thumb on the back of your hand whilst he holds it tighter.
You didnât seem to notice that at some point throughout the night, he managed to hold your hand without your protest.
âAfter all that talking, youâre still looking to get into my pants, huh?â you reply, trying to hide the fact that his words slightly offended you.
Fuck. Canât believe you fell for itâhis little actâlooking like heâs trying to get to you know better but heâs just looking for a hook-up.
He shakes his head and adjusts his posture, dismissing your suspicion. âNo, no. I justâYou need to rest 'cause you look so fucking tired and I want to see you tomorrow and have breakfast with you so, you know, we could talk more about our favorite movies.â
Heâs definitely got you good.



























