Little Bird (Ed Sheeran)

Chapter 8 ~ Ed

      I have her in my arms and nothing feels better. Whilst we listen to her playlist, her head rests on my chest as my arms wrap around her waist, keeping her close, my chin on the top of her head and she is playing with my tattoos, running her fingers over all the edges, re-drawing the designs. Sometimes she giggles and shakes her head lightly, sometimes she keeps her fingers over a specific tattoo for a longer time and I know she likes that one better.

We haven’t said much since she finally gave in. I helped her to finish rearranging her room and then decided that we both didn’t feel like doing anything else, so we are just chilling on her bed. I love having her in my arms like this, sharing a moment without the need to feel the silence with words, just being together.

I know she’s afraid, but not afraid of getting hurt really, afraid of hurting me. She thinks that if things don’t work out, it will be her fault. I know she believes she is a mess and that I have no reason to feel the way I feel about her, but that’s because she was hurt badly before. I still can’t believe someone did that to her. Why? Why someone would play with another person’s feelings just for the sake of having fun at other’s expense? Those minds are really fucked up, they are not even worth thinking of them. They were part of Moni’s life, they changed her and made her who she is now. She’s stronger, she’s more independent, she’s more grateful, but at the same time she has big scars that have held her back. And I won’t let that to keep happening.

“What does your tattoos mean?” I ask her because as she strokes my inked skin, I keep looking at her wrists: both tattooed.

She stops sliding her fingers over my arm and focus her attention on her wrists, exposing them for a better examination. On her left wrist she has three little birds flying, they are running away from her skin, it gives the sensation that they will fly away in any moment. On her other wrist she has some words in a language I don’t know –Imora Thea Mi Savur– and they surround the whole wrist, but a feather joins the first and last word at the back of her wrist.

“My birdies are Freedom, Hope and Strength. My first tattoos and those are words that keep me going, that’s why I have them, to remind myself that I can spread my wings and fly. The other one means God Save Me From Love. It’s a quote from a book and it’s kinda my motto,” she explains and I think of her words.

I understand her first tattoo perfectly. Moni is like that, she needs her freedom, she doesn’t want to be held in one place. The second one… “I never thought you were that scared of love,” I say out loud and she wraps her left hand over her right wrist immediately, stroking the words with her fingers.

“It’s not like that. I’m afraid, yes. Love is too powerful and it’s a double-edged sword. It can make you stronger or it can destroy you. You have to be careful and when I say God Save Me From Love I don’t mean to help me to never fall in love, but to save me from love destroying my life. Love changes us, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. I don’t want it to be for bad. Does it make sense?” she questions, her voice low and soft. She cocks her head to the left and looks up to meet my eyes. I know she’s opening up again, she’s allowing me to see her insecurities and private thoughts. And probably those are two of the most important things for her.

“It makes total sense,” I answer and she smiles at me, a heart-warming smile.

I lean in, my nose brushing against her softly before my lips look for hers. I feel Moni tensing in my arms right before I close the distance between us and I kiss her, but she gives in and replies by kissing me back, her right hand sneaks up to my hair and I love the way her little fingers ruffle my hair. I love the way she feels in my arms, her lips on mine, moving in sync, slowing and sweetly.