A Thousand Tiny Wishes // Ed Sheeran

Chapter Nine - Chances

                  

Ed

After being on my own for a month and already having my luck stretched beyond its existence, I couldn't help but put myself in an alternate universe where I just went home.  As much as I didn't want to, I wanted to have somewhere to go, somewhere with a roof and heat.  I wanted to shower and wear fresh clothes from my wardrobe.  I wanted to climb under the blankets and sleep for two days straight in my single bed, even if the mattress was lumpy.

I stared blankly ahead at the space between where Stuart was leaning against the counter in the pub, the side of his blue jeans and the brown cabinet in my line of vision and the sandwich he'd given me still half eaten in my hand.  Frozen was an understatement for what I was after he'd gone and offered me his sofa to spend the night on.  Part of me wanted to drop everything and take off out the door, but the bit that was still sat on the stool wanted something different.

"Well?" Stuart's voice snatched me from my own thoughts and I glanced up at him standing there against the counter, his arms folded over his solid blue jumper. 

My mouth wanted to form words but all I could think was how stupid I was.  How irresponsible it was for me to even consider leaving home and being able to be out on my own and make it, and how downright terrified I felt being left to fend for myself after the incident in the car.  It was still so fresh in mind, sitting there behind my eyelids and on my skin and I cringed while I chewed, wondering what made Stuart any different from the fucking filth of a man that had me pinned beneath him on the leather seat in his car.

It seemed like such a simple thing to say you're tired and have a bed to go to.  My bed, as of late, has consisted of cold cement grounds, park benches, and bus seats so turning down a solid place to sleep outside the elements seemed to be inconceivable after the way I'd been living.

"It's okay to say yes," he reassured me, "I promise nothing bad will come of it.  You have my word, Ed."

"Why should I trust you?"

Stuart aimed a finger at his own chest, his eyebrows rising at my question.

"Me? Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

I shook my head and he let his hand lower before he glanced behind me at the window.  His eyes were fixed on the glass and I turned my head as well, seeing that snow had started to fall again, the flakes drifting down to the pavement and glowing orange in the light.

"I've got a girlfriend who lives with me, if that makes you feel a bit better," he continued and I snapped my head back toward him, "She's always having a go at me for bringing lads like you around but I figure it's worth it if you don't have to spend the night on the street."

Stuart had the kind of look in his eye that told me that not only did he know some of my story, he understood it.  He'd mentioned seeing the likes of me before and I had to admit the positive vibe I'd been getting from him was far more than I could say about the stranger who'd picked me up on the side of the road.  I sat for a bit in silence, hoping that time my instincts were correct in allowing me to trust him and before I could weigh the pros and cons I just swallowed back the last of my pride and nodded slowly. 

With a smile he offered to clear the sandwich since I hadn't taken another bite and I thanked him, slowly standing to gather my things. 

The walk up to his flat was a straight wooden staircase behind a locked door at the back of the pub's small kitchen and my heart pounded the further up we climbed.  I was more alert than ever, keeping my eyes on his hands and staying two or three steps behind him.