#mango tea

that is, until a light knock sounds from the door. you wouldn’t have heard it if you hadn’t been secretly hoping to hear from someone other than your roommate, who would’ve just walked in. you grumble in your half-asleep state when you stand from the couch, the soft cushions bouncing below you as you rise to your feet. you pull your cardigan tighter around your body, standing still for a moment when you reach the door to rub your eyes.

they’re still slightly closed when you open the door, muttering a questioning, “hello?”

“hi,” the person in front of you breathes out, the familiar voice rushing to your brain.

you swear you’ve never opened your eyes so quickly.

there he is, disheveled and slouched over, but so, so relieved. he hadn’t expected you’d actually answer the door. you’re still speechless when he speaks again. “i know this is borderline stalkerish, but amir gave me your address and i really needed to see you,” he sighs with a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

your jaw is slack for another moment before you finally speak. “uhm, i, uh, shawn.” confusion crosses your features when you stutter out your jumbled thoughts. “it’s been six months.”

“i know, i know but please, just hear me out,” he pleads, almost desperately.

“come in, then. and tell amir that i have some things to say to him next time we see each other!” you turn around, leading him into your home. he only chuckles. you enter the small kitchen, turning on the overhead light before leaning back against the countertop.

“welcome to my humble abode,” you laugh at the small space, suddenly self-conscious. “it’s obviously not as big as your condo, but-“

“no, it’s perfect. it’s very you,” he smiles, glancing around the room.

“thanks,” you mumble shyly, before speaking up again. “do you want tea?”

“do you have the mango stuff?”

“i might still have some,” you reply, rummaging through the cupboards. “ i think i brought it with me when i moved out of your place.” the tension thickened at the mention of you leaving, and honestly, you can’t believe you’ve gotten this far without bursting out into tears. 

maybe that’s why your head is stuffed in the cupboard you know doesn’t have mango tea in it, just so you don’t have to look at him. you haven’t gotten any of the tea since you moved in, since you left, for that matter, but you haven’t let it leave its place at the back of the cupboard. while it may seem that it’s just tea, it’s all you’ve had left of him that’s yours and yours alone.

“so, shawn,” you clear your throat, easily grabbing the tea from its place in a different cabinet. “what’s up?”

he’s silent for a minute, watching as you turn on the kettle. he’s looking down when he speaks again, “i miss you. i know you have a boyfriend, but i really do.” he looks up at you with wide eyes, the warm brown colour filling your vision.

you laugh, turning back to face the counter. “you basically wrote an entire album about it,” you pour the hot water over the teabags in your ceramic mugs. “i’m not sure you could’ve been less subtle. besides, we broke up a couple weeks ago.” you look at him over your shoulder with a shy smile.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be, it’s not like i’ve never gone through a breakup before,” you assure, a slight tone of sadness present in your voice. you walk over to him, a mug of tea in each hand.

“y/n come on, please don’t be like that,” he sighs, taking a mug from your hand. he’s never liked to see you upset, and this is no different.

“like what, shawn? hurt? sad? conflicted?” you look at him with glossy eyes, and he can see the disconnect. you’re simultaneously so close and so far away from him and yourself. it’s hard for him to see you like this -  even harder knowing that he caused it.

you sit down on one of the round barstools, looking up at him while he stares down into his mug. “thanks for the tea,” he smiles forcefully, eyes flickering up then back down.

“it’s no problem.”

the room falls silent again, the only sounds the soft passes of your breathing. you’re not sure what to say, and you’re about to ask if shawn wants to take his tea with him when he breaks the silence.

“i love you,” he says, surprising himself with the firmness he speaks with. you’re surprised too, your breath catching in your chest, looking at him, bewildered.

“no, shawn, i- you can’t. you can’t love me.” you shake your head.

“i do!”

“no! if you love me now, you would’ve loved me six months ago,” you sob, tears finally running down your face.

“but i did. i did love you and i haven’t stopped. i never stopped loving you, y/n,” he tells you, walking over to your spot at the counter. he brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, the fresh tears running slowly down his hands.

“i’m sorry, shawn, i really can’t do this. not after everything you’ve done.” you push him away gently, sliding off the stool.

“what do you mean, ‘everything i’ve done’?” he asks with furrowed brows.

“the album, shawn! every single song on that album, your album, taunted me like i was the one who fucked up. you fell out of love with me shawn, you can’t release an album full of old love songs and expect me to beg for your forgiveness. i never wanted to leave you, but i wanted you to be happy. why couldn’t you just let yourself move on like you so desperately wanted to?” you cry, breaking his heart even more than you already had.

“i told you, i never fell out of love with you! i never wanted to move on, i wanted to fix us!” he exclaims, the hurt turning into anger.

“well that turned out fucking great! now we’re standing here in my kitchen, brokenhearted, at 9 pm on a saturday because of it!” you yell back, trying not to be too loud for the sake of your neighbours.

“i don’t know what to tell you, y/n,” he says, the initial rage bubbling back down.

“obviously you do since you showed up here in the first place!” your tea’s abandoned on the countertop, and all of the frustration you’ve been holding in for the past six months is flying out of you. while you’re sure you’ll regret all of this in the morning, you can’t bring yourself to care.

your cheeks are flushed and your breathing’s heavy, you’re more angry than shawn’s ever seen you. he hates this too, he just hates when you’re not happy, and he hates that you’re not his anymore.

“y/n, it’s always been you, i promise. i was stupid and i made a mistake. i’m so sorry.” he wants to make you look him in the eyes and see the sincerity floating behind them, he wants you to believe him and every word that he’s saying, but he won’t, and he doesn’t.

“you made a mistake and you broke me, shawn. i’m sick and tired of being so lonely but i can’t find the will to change. i don’t want to feel like this, but i can’t go back to you,” you breathe out, your voice lowering to almost a whisper.

“i never wanted to hurt you,” his voice is almost as low, but just as full of emotion.

“i know,” you smile, and for the first time in a while, it’s almost genuine. “i don’t hate you shawn, i never could. and i don’t want you to think that this has been easy for me either, because honestly, these last few months have been some of the worst of my life. when i walked out of that apartment i walked out on my best friend, and i am sorry.”

“please don’t apologize, it’s my fault, i know,” he says sheepishly.

“you’re right, it is your fault,” you reply with a giggle.

“well, uhm, now that i know you don’t hate me, this’ll be a lot less awkward.” his eyes scan over your face, trying his best to read your emotions.

you laugh again, “it’s already awkward, shawn. what are you doing?”

“please, please just let me hold you,” he pleads, his eyes staring into yours.

“what?”

“i just- i don’t know or care what happens when i leave, but i need to be close to you. i’m not ready to lose you, y/n. i can’t lose you. this is painfully awkward, i know, but i promise i’ll shut up if you let me have you for a bit. or i’ll just leave, if you’d rather, which i can totally do-”