` ❀ 𝓔veryone wants him, that was my crime. The wrong place at the right time and I break down, then he's pullin' me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman . ݁ ꒱

— 𝒜 late-spring school event — end-of-year awards night in the gymnasium.

You knew it the second you got out of your mom’s car.

The flats were a mistake.

Sure, they were adorable — cream-colored with little satin bows on the toes, matched perfectly with your dress — but about ten minutes into the crowded event in the stuffy gymnasium, the backs of them started digging into your heels like punishment. By the time the second award had been called and the third parent started loudly clapping for a kid who didn’t even win, you could barely stand still without wincing.

Shauna noticed immediately.

She always did.

She leaned in, voice low, lips brushing your ear. – “You’re making the face. The one you make when you pretend you’re not dying.” –

You straightened. – “I’m fine.” –

Shauna arched an eyebrow. – “Is this a fashion pain thing?” –

You hesitated. – “They’re just... really cute.” –

She glanced down at the shoes, then back up at you with that soft, teasing look she reserved only for you. – “And clearly designed by someone who hates feet.” –

You tried to laugh it off, but when the principal invited everyone to stand for a round of applause, you flinched — visibly.

Shauna didn’t hesitate.

She leaned down, slid one arm behind your knees, the other behind your back, and in one smooth, determined motion — lifted you off the ground.

You gasped, looping your arms around her neck on instinct. – “Shauna!” –

– “I warned you about those flats.” – she said, grinning as she started walking across the gym with you in her arms.

Heads turned. A few teachers blinked. Jackie raised an eyebrow from the other side of the bleachers. Jeff snorted into his cup.

But Shauna didn’t care. Not one bit.

– “I can walk—”

– “Sure you can,” – she said, tightening her grip. – “But you’re not going to. Because I love you. And because those shoes look like they’d chew through bone if given the chance.” –

You pressed your cheek to her shoulder, heart fluttering like it always did when she let her guard down in public, just for you.

– “Next time,” – she whispered. – “we go sneakers and hoodies. I’ll carry you for the aesthetic, not survival.” –

You laughed against her.

The bows might’ve matched your dress, but Shauna — Shauna was the one who matched your heart.