Sometimes, you can just tell when a gesture- a glance, a head-tilt, a twitching finger, a tiny nod- means more than what means the eye. Sometimes, we imagine it. We imagine something that is not there, because we want it.
We want that boy to glance over us, because he can’t help himself, so that’s what we see, instead of what is most likely there. He was looking for his friend, behind you.
You want that older girl to respect you because of your acting abilities, so when she gives you a hug on opening night, you believe that it is because she does. When in actuality, she was probably just nervous.
You want that teacher who makes you actually care about the subject to notice something special in you, so when you catch her staring at you inquisitively, you assume that she does. But she is probably just staring at your hair- which is a mess.
Shawn Spencer had always had an affinity for ignoring these things-that-aren’t-things, and was quite pleased with himself over that. He wasn’t an emotional guy- at least not publicly- and in the time that wasn’t taken up by playing Trashcan NBA or Hungry Hungry Hippos with Gus, he preferred to do other things with his time than concern himself with other people’s thoughts and feelings towards him.
He didn’t waste time wondering if Lassiter actually did respect him- Shawn knew that he did, and that was the end of that.
He didn’t bother himself pondering the idea that Henry might actually be proud of him- he was, it was fact, and he knew that. Ever since that first McCallum case, and Henry read that article in the newspaper, he knew that. Confirmation through little half-smiles, and small nods weren’t needed. Besides, he didn’t live to please his father.
In a non-arrogant way, he knew that he was invaluable to the department, so he didn’t wait for the chief to give him a case, because he sort of just knew he’d solve it eventually, whether or not he was officially ‘hired.’
Define hired, anyway.
There was one person that got to him every now and again. For years, Juliet had managed to evade his evasion. Even after they started dating- especially after they started dating- Shawn found himself caring about what Juliet thought about him, a lot.
But before that, the almost indistinguishable head shake of her head snapped something inside him, and then, he needed to be right. If only to get her to nod her head at him and smile, he needed to be right.
++++
They’d been dating for over a year, when Shawn started getting antsy. He had never, ever, ever, had a relationship that lasted that long in which he enjoyed every second. Abigail was closest, and five months behind, anyway.
Naturally, her being a detective, she was good at hiding things. He however, was a liar- born and raised- and he was good at hiding things as well. Too good. And it was starting to bother him.
They sat on Juliet’s- essentially theirs, seeing as he spent most nights there- couch, watching old reruns of Everwood. For what reason, Shawn- and Juliet, for that matter- would never know. It’s like the pointy thing of 80’s shows. The clock on the bookshelf blinked; 12:46 pm.
She scooted closer to him subliminally and placed her hand just so that it touched his. He instantly wondered what it meant. Is that a sign of hope? Respect? …Love? Trust? Nothing?
He sighed to himself as he took the hint and wrapped her hand in his before lifting it to his lips. She turned her head as they made contact with her skin, smiled, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. As she laid her head on his shoulder, he swallowed. He loved her, he knew that much. She loved him, that much he was 92% certain of, mostly because she tells him. But there is always that niggling 8% of doubt.
And he hates that doubt. He never wanted to be that boyfriend who… concerns himself with stupid insecurities. He didn’t want to be an insecure person, because insecure people were weak to him, and that was the last thing he wanted to be.
She trusted him. And he absolutely hated it. He wasn’t honest enough to deserve anyone’s trust, let alone hers. As she wrapped the hand that wasn’t in his around his arm, he felt his anxiety build up further.
This had been happening a lot lately around her. She would touch him lovingly, anywhere, and the first words that would pop to his lips were ‘I’m not psychic,’ closely followed by ‘I don’t deserve you.’ He swallowed them every time. There was no choice.
He detached his right hand from hers before reaching for it with his left, and placing his right arm around her shoulders. There was a hitch in his breath as she snuggled in closer to him.
The longer he kept this secret, the longer he would have to keep it, because if he told her now, their seven years together- friends, or more than that …she would think everything was a lie.
He felt that ever present ball of anxiety and nervousness in the pit of his stomach grow. It was a knot that twisted inside his, growing and growing, causing him physical discomfort. He focused on it, and let it go. He imagined a literal rope ball, tied in many indistinguishable knots, and he imagined himself untying all the knots inside him. As he did that, idly staring at the screen, he felt the knot untie, as anxiety was released everywhere in his body. It seeped down his extremities like liquid fear, and he sat, slightly paralyzed, though never showing it. He compared the feeling to his high school exams.
He would sit on the couch, watching TV. He recognized that he had a test the next day, and he knew he could study… but watching TV was just so much better. He recognized that he would probably fail, but he didn’t care enough to care, really.
Here, he sat on his couch with his girlfriend, watching TV. He recognized that he lied almost everyday, and he knew that he could tell her… but that could ruin everything. He recognized that the relationship could end if he doesn’t go about this soon, but he cared too much to risk it.
“Are you okay, Shawn?” Her tired voice startled him out of his reverie, and his head snapped towards her. She yawned adorably.
As he looked down at her, he could feel how sad his face looked, and he felt like slapping himself. He leaned forward slightly and kissed her forehead. “Yeah.”
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking, for now.
Juliet was one to pick her battles, and here, he could tell beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t fighting this one. This particular instance would never be brought up again. And for that, he was thankful.
“I should probably go.” Shawn said, making no effort to do the proposed action.
“Yeah.” Juliet said wrapping her arm around his waist, yawning again.
“Yeah.” He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.
As her eyes fluttered shut, she whispered, “…No.”
“Yeah,” Shawn chuckled, “no. Let’s get you to bed, alright?”
“Are you staying?” She mumbled.
He stood her up and began walking her back to her –‘their,’ essentially- bedroom. “For you? Anything.” She glanced up at him sleepily and smiled. “Your eyes are really blue when you’re exhausted. Did you know that?” She walked in front of him into her bedroom as he dutifully followed.
Shawn could tell Juliet was glad to already be ready for bed as she flopped herself onto her side. He quickly changed, brushed his teeth, and slid into the bed next to her. She flipped over so her back was against him, as it was whenever he spent the night, and he put his arm around her.
He kissed her neck gently and she giggled slightly. “Love you.” She whispered in the dark.
He sat silent for a moment, pondering everything that was wrong with her saying that statement to him. He could really only think of one thing.
“Love you too, Jules. And I… I have something to tell you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.” She reached back and grabbed his hand, dragging it across her middle, bringing to rest around her. “Shhh.”
And for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel anxious at all.
Stay by TheRealJules
Story Notes:
I have exams this week. #ProcrastinationInTheGreatestWay
Author's Chapter Notes:
I do not own the NBA, or Hungry Hungry Hippos. But I do own Psych. Just kidding.
Chapter End Notes:
Te Gusta? Te Gusta. Me Gusta. Spanish exam on Wednesday. Kill me. (don't) I hope you liked it! Review and I'll sing you a song based entirely on Psych. I'm serious, I might actually do that. Review. I might, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, continue this, if three people + ask for it, I'll put it under consideration. 5+ and I will. -_- #Scamming
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