Lego House (Ed Sheeran Fanfiction)

Chapter 17

As the sun set and the sky became dark and the moon came out with the stars shining, I sat on the bed lying down for much needed sleep. Dylan had gone out for in search of bandages, which I gave her good luck on her somewhat not so good French. Ed had stay behind to keep an eye on me, but I was pretty sure that I wasn't going anywhere for the next couple of forevers. 

I could hear his footsteps pace throughout the room and towards where I laid. He sat down next to me, taking my hand and his and petting my hair. I smiled to myself and rolled away from him, opening me eyes.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he stated as he rested his eyes against the head board.

"I kinda was awake already," I told him, moving next to him and resting my head on his shoulder.

I started to play with his hand as we sat there silently  and the only light was the moon shining through. A noise came from my stomach making my face turn red like his hair.

"Hungry?" he guessed.

"Maybe a little." 

"Come on." He hopped off the bed and took me with him towards the balcony where I noticed was a spread out blanket with a flower in a vase with plates of food surronding it.

"What is this?"

"Well I wanted to say I was sorry, yet again. I went over what you said to me on the phone about how we barely knew each other, so why not have a date or something like that."

"Or something like that? Um okay."

I moved to sit down and he came down next me. Reaching over for the plate of peaches, he handed one to me. I took it and took a bite, completely absorbed with the juice of the fruit. 

"So tell me Annie, whats your favorite color?" I looked at him, was he completely serious. "What? You say I don't know you, so why not try to?"

"Fine, its orange, like your hair. How about you?"

"Green. Not just because its my eye color."

"Favorite writer?"

"Me...Well I don't really know. You? Oh wait let me guess, the guy who writes those plays about those people dying."

"That guy is William Shakespeare, known for one of the best playwriters ever written." He smiled at me and I could feel myself blushing.

"So tell me, do you remember what your life was life before? Um... before your supposed parents left you?"

I looked at him, bracing him for the tears that might come. He squeezed my hand tight, reassuring me. "Um... I don't...Wanna tell."

"Oh um okay... I'll tell you what my life was like before I met you." I nodded and he went on. After awhile I found that he didn't have a easy life as I thought. His family didn't appreciate his dream for music so head dropped out of school for a career which didn't start out as he had planned.

I didn't have a not so great life either, but before I thought when hell struck when I was young, it had actually started a bit earlier than I remembered. So after I heard, I told him what I remembered. I used to think that I lived some magical life with my adoptive parents, but I could remember the pain that I felt, the strangers that I saw, glass breaking, the yelling. Everything made me seem like what was new actually started way back when I only a little kid.

But I knew I could trust him and I knew I was risking a lot but not at all. 

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