Afire Love// ed sheeran

Remember

Enjoy. I won't be updating for a little while since I am going to Barcelona in a week. More wonderful chapters are coming with more drama and plot twists.
-Alyssa

We sat in a small cafe,  our heads lowered under menus and our hands tapping on the cold wooden table. The room was dark, masking us from the general public. Little catepillars sprouted in my stomach, butterflies sprouting and flapping their wings nervously against my organs. I set my menu down.

"Why did we come here?" Ed asked, scraping his gand against the tuffs of hair sprouting from his chin. He set the menu down, sighing loudly. A waitress came up to us.

"Two cokes and burgers," I replied, handing her the stack of menus. The woman pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and walked back to the front of the restaurant.

I pressed my sweaty palms to the cushion I was seated on, looking around the restaurant. A mahogny guitar hung over one of the tabled while vintage posters hung over others. The place was full of business men and hipsters, chugging down pints of beer and chomping down plates of food. After meeting Ed in the park earlier that day, I had gone home and changed into shorts, a black tee, and Ed's plaid shirt from the first day.

I opened up the closet, pulling on a black tee and sliding hangers back. At the sight of the red and black fabric, I froze. Flashbacks to that night played back in my mind. I lifted it off of the hanger, my eyes wide. I hugged the soft cotton to my chest, sniffing it. I could swear it still smelt like his cologne, the smell of cedar wood mixed with something that reminded me of roasted almonds. I closed my eyes, shaking my head, and pulling the fabric on. I pushed the sleeves up to my elbows and breathed on a sigh.

"The first night we met," I stated simply, looking at his hands. They were shaking slightly but he was trying to hide it by pressing them to the wooden table. "It was at a Taylor concert. I was front row and you were looking at me as if I was the only girl there. I was amazed by the talent you possessed, how your music could be so beautiful, original, and unique. I had never witnesses such pure, unadulterated talent. I was wonderstruck." My throat felt dry, my skin crawling. I sipped my coke and rubbed my hands on my forearms. I looked up at Ed. His eyes were closed as if he were picturing it all. "You gave me a shirt, this one," I said, gesturing at it with my finger. Ed opened his eyes, looking at the fabric. He tentatively held out a finger, looking up into my eyes for permission. I nodded and he touched the sleeve of my shirt with the tip of his finger. He clasped onto it with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it softly. As he went to let go, his finger slid against the skin of my arm, electric currents soring through my skin. I shuddered slightly at the feel of his cool fingers against my warm skin. He must have felt it because he quickly withdrew his hand, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

I shook my head, folding my hands together. "After the show," I continued, trying to act unphased by the sudden feel of his hand against my skin, "I went here, expecting a quick dinner and a return home. A boy with orange hair and a wide smile interrupted that… you." I smiled slightly, looking down at the table. "We talked about music, the show, what music represented for us and why it was such a crucial element in our lives. I offered to pay, not wanting it to seem like I was taking advantage of your kindness… you declined, payed, and wrote your number on the receipt. You called me your-"

"Singing partner," he finished, opening his eyes.

"You remember?" I asked, amazed.

"Those words have been repeating in my mind for the past few months. I didn't know what they meant or the importance of them but I guess it makes sense," he mentioned. The waitress set our food on the table and we started to eat.

I never realized that being Ed could be so easy. There were moments when I looked up and it felt like nothing had changed, that Ed and I were still in love. At other moments, he felt like a good friend. We laughed at corny jokes, talked like it was nothing new. But my hands were always shaking, my forehead always sweating, and my heart always pounding violently against ribs, threatening to break free.

"So when was our next date?" Ed asked after we had finished our burgers. We were walking down the dark streets towards my apartment. There was barely any one out and there was a slight nip in the air.

"Not for a while. I was so nervous to call you but eventually, I did. And we called, texted, or facetimed each other every single day for a week. And then... you inviter me on an adventure, an offer too good to pass up."

Ed looked over at me. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, like stars in the night sky. "Adventure?"

I laughed, looking up at the stars. I imagined my weak mind those months ago, my soft heart, and my fragile self esteem. "I was very weak minded. I was so afraid to be seen or heard. The idea of being judged scared me. You wanted me to lose that fear, to break free from the shell that encaged me. You wanted to take me to Europe… To help me explore lands that I had never seen and be free from my fears." I looked up at my apartment building. A few of the windowd were lit up but the majority were cast into darkness.

"And did you go? What happened after?" he sounded so excited. It was as if he were kid in a candy shop, ready to learn more. It was endearing and all I wanted to do was hug him, but I resisted, afraid to scare him off.

I checked my watch. 11 pm. "Next time my friend, next time," I said. I patted his shoulder tentatively. I walked up the stairs to the front door and turned around. Ed was looking at me, a smirk on his lips. I waved at him and walked into the bulding, leaving him outside.

***

In my apartment, I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt changed, as if a whole new person had overtaken me. I was smiling, a genuine smile,  and Ed was plastered into my mind.

I checked my mail. Flipping through bills. I pushed them aside. I felt pure giddiness in my chest right where my heart was supposed to be. But at the sight of the next envelope, my hands shook, my palms sweaty, my heart pounding quickly.

Julliard.

I picked it up in my hands, the smooth white envelope shaking in my hands. I slid my nail open under the envelope flap, tearing it opwn. Inside laid a few pages of stationery stamped with the Julliard symbol. I picked up the pages, reading the pages.

My results were-

***

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