For the longest time

X

We sat on the same side of the booth with our backs to the front door, eating a giant plate of waffles and sipping our mugs of hot chocolate. Ed was quiet and he seemed troubled. The colour of his eyes was gone. Actually, the colour of his everything was gone. His usually bright ginger hair looked opaque, his skin was even paler than usual, his eyes seemed to be sunken into its sockets, even the multicoloured tattoos that peeked out of his jacket were gloomy. I shifted in my seat next to him, feeling awkward. Feeling useless because I couldn't think of anything to say and he hadn't said anything since we agreed that we wanted to have waffles at the diner across the street from the coffee shop.

"So..." I said after what it seemed hours, "..." and nothing came out of my mouth. I tried to think of something, anything, even a lame joke, and I was about to do a knock-knock one when he finally interrupted our silence.

"Have you written any more poems?"

His question took me by surprise, also his hoarse voice. "Uh..." I thought about it while he took a sip from his drink and I wasn't sure if I wanted to say yeah, I have. I have, actually, been thinking like, a lot, about fucking you hard or avoid the subject completely. 

"I think you should never stop writing, Erin." Ed locked his eyes with mine and I felt a sudden shiver down my spine. "You're good, you are! And you can't, just, not do it. When you stop, then it gets really, really hard to get back on track and you're like what the fuck am I doing and it gets discouraging."

As I looked down at my mug of hot chocolate, trying not to blush, I thought that maybe that's how he'd been feeling lately. Maybe he had been frustrated with his own work and it was an advice that he needed himself. "Don't worry, Ed. I haven't stopped. I haven't stuck to the same, you know, formula or whatever, but I've been writing," I nodded with a small smile and a small tingle between my thighs, feeling so inadequate because it wasn't even a sexy conversation. I shook off the thought and looked back at him, "have you?" I asked, "written anything?"

He replied with a big sigh and a shrug of his shoulders. "Nah, not really. But... I dunno, I hope it turns out okay, I mean..." he suddenly started chuckling and then laughing and I looked at him confused because he was laughing at my face.

"What?" I started laughing as well. When he was in a good mood, his smile, laughter and overall-light were so contagious that it was hard not to feel instantly better. "What?" I asked again as we kept laughing and he wasn't answering, he looked like a kid at heart and I thought that was adorable.

"You got yourself a chocolate moustache," Ed gestured to my upper lip with a joyful look in his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," I laughed and licked my upper lip playfully, trying to get the most of the chocolate out of my skin. Eventually, I brought a napkin to my mouth and wiped it off.

"It suited you, though."

"Yeah, I know," I joked, rolling my eyes, "I can pull anything off, even facial hair made of chocolate." Ed looked back down at our plate half-full of waffles, he had a shy smile on his face, almost as if he was embarrassed that he was having a good time. It was painful to watch, but also kind of hopeful. And for once, I tried to see the good part, "hey," I nudged his shoulder, "I made you smile."

"Yeah," he laughed weakly and leaned against the booth, turning his full attention to me."Listen, Erin, you are an amazing person, really, and I really, really like hanging out with you..."

The way he left that last word hanging was enough to make my stomach drop, and it didn't feel good at all. "But?"

"No buts, that's just it"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Trying to find some hint of truth behind the veil that continued to cover his eyes, I wondered if someday the fog would dissolve completely.

"But...," he sighed and looked down at the table, "I hate it that when we hang out, it's usually me being a depressing shit."

I sat there quietly for a moment and thought about it, but I couldn't come up with any reason why I agreed with him. "I don't mind. I mean, I think it's cool you trust me enough to be, like, you know, you're true self or whatever with me."

Ed still didn't make eye contact with me, and he looked clearly uncomfortable, playing with his fingers and fidgeting his feet under the table, "but I do mind, Erin. I do and I don't want you to feel like you have to make me feel better, alright?" He looked like this fragile creature who was afraid to hurt other people, and I can't lie, I thought that was actually really fucking sweet. And it amazed me that he actually cared about me enough not to drown me with his shit. I felt honoured that someone as important in the entertainment industry as Ed Sheeran, cared enough about me to worry about the impact he had on me. Maybe it was stupid because the past few weeks he'd grown to be more than a celebrity I knew, he'd become a -is friend the word?- I cared about him, too. I could recognize part of myself in him and I knew we could do the same with me. It was absurd, yes, and bizarre and unreal. Not everyone has the opportunity to get to know Ed Sheeran like I was getting to know him, and I liked who I was getting to know. 

For a millisecond, I freaked out that all of this was in my head and he was just using me to vent and he thought of me as a crazy fan and then he would just leave me alone forever. It completely freaked me out, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Oh, no, I don't. I don't feel like I have to make you feel better, Ed Sheeran. I just like hanging out with you because you buy me food. Other than that, I couldn't care less about what I'm saying to you." The corners of his eyes crinkled and I saw a glimpse of light in his face, and he started laughing.  "I'm serious," I said but failed to keep my face straight as well.

We crossed the street when the cars seemed to disappear and walked back to the coffee shop building. "Are you staying at the same hotel?" I asked him as we got closer to the back door.

"Nah, not this time. I'm crashing a friend's couch for a few days. My crew - god, I sound like a fucking douchebag- the team I work with and all of them are back in LA, they didn't fly to New York with me, so I'm staying with a friend from school who moved here about four years ago." I think he could read my expression because he immediately laughed and started explaining, while he kicked the small pebbles on the pavement, "yeah, like, a few days because I have to fly back to LA soon. Awards season is not over and I have to attend... fuck."

We got to the back door and I took out my keys and held them in my hands for a really long time and Ed looked at me, with his hands in his pocket and the wind blowing both of our hairs. I could feel the goodnight at the tip of his tongue and I looked at him and realized I wanted to keep talking to him. 

"Aren't you going to go inside?" he asked after a while.

"I..." I put the keys back in my pocket, "you know what, I don't feel like sleeping yet and the night is cold but it's also really nice out here and..." he tilted his head with a confused expression on his face. "Does your friend live far away?"

"No, no. I mean, just a couple stations from here but I was planning on walking," he shrugged, "why?"

"I don't know, I want to keep talking and just hang out with you and, if you don't mind, I want to walk you home, even if it's not your home," I smiled goofily, "can I walk with you?"

Ed's cheeks flushed and his smile became even brighter, "wow yeah... I mean, you can walk me to my friend's house, that'd be nice."

"I promise I won't try to make you feel better."

He laughed, "okay then, it's this way."

***** 

Yoo, okay so I don't know if this is really shitty or what but I'm falling asleep and I really wanted to update so here.

Thank you for reading. If you like it, please vote and comment or just keep enjoying this story.

- TJ