A Thousand Tiny Wishes // Ed Sheeran

Chapter Five - Let Him Go

Her POV:

It didn't seem real that he was actually leaving. It didn't seem fair either, but I knew it was what he wanted the most. Ed kept things so tight-lipped that I'd never even heard him sing, or play his guitar. Hell, I didn't even know he owned a guitar until two nights before he left.

He walked from his house to mine with the guitar out of its case and slung over his shoulder, smiling wide when I pulled the front door open.

"You weren't at school today," I smirked, the door hanging open and my arms folded over my chest while I leaned against the frame.

He shrugged in the carefree way that he does, his bottom lip spilling over his top one as he did, eyebrows pulling up, "You're just mad 'cause you had exams."

"So did you, Ed, you just decided to automatically fail them because you're too good for school, right?"

"Right," he smiled matter-of-factly, tucking his lips in and squinting his eyes in the type of smile I can only describe as cat-like.

I would admit that I didn't think he was serious about leaving, especially after a week had passed since he told me his plans and he was still home, but when he sat propped on the floor with his back pressed to my bed and his small guitar resting neatly against his thighs, I knew that not only was he serious, he was good. I could feel his passion in my bones as he sang, his voice turning to caramel the second the words spilled past his lips.

He sang me a cover of 'Make You Feel My Love' by Bob Dylan, and I sat beside him with my knees pulled to my chest, arms folded neatly around them while I listened. I rested my cheek against my arms, watching him stare down at his hands while he played, his eyes closing once he began.

The melody was soothing, his fingers working fast with each chord. It was almost mesmerizing to watch him, each word flowing from his mouth clear and calm and like something I'd never expect to come from him.

He cleared his throat once he stopped, giving the strings a final strum before resting his head back against the mattress and turning his face toward mine. His eyebrows became two flattened lines above his bright blue eyes while an even blush colored both cheeks.

"What do you think?" He asked and the question hung in the air like a patch of warmth in a cold room.

I saw it in his eyes exactly what he was thinking, and the two blue orbs darted over my face, begging me to soften the blow as if he couldn't take another word of criticism. Although I had nothing but positive things to say about his talent, I knew there would be a part of him that wouldn't believe me.

"I think you're serious about leaving," I said, keeping my voice low at the sudden realization, "and I think you've got talent that a lot of people would kill to have."

A smile pulled at his mouth and he diverted his eyes to his lap while his fingers quietly strummed, and although I knew how hard it would be for me to let him go, I knew I had to. I knew that he would make it and become something he'd always dreamed of being.

"You know," he started, resting the guitar beside him on the floor, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands until they disappeared and stilled in his lap, "I rehearsed this massive speech about how I want you to come with me-"

I shifted where I sat, halfway between opening my mouth to tell him I couldn't when he shook his head and reached for my hand, peering through his orange strands of hair and into my eyes, "but I know how selfish that is, and I know that you've got your own plans."

It was clear to me that he knew exactly what he wanted and what he didn't want. Just by looking in his eyes I could see that he'd not only contemplated asking me to go with him wherever he was going, he'd probably lost sleep about it. Deep down I knew that he wanted to take me along on his journey, and as difficult as it was for me, it wouldn't have been possible for me to go with him.