Falling Slowly {{ sweeran }}

Chapter 11

"We couldn't be torn apart, you see we were just like glue" – 'Let It Out', Ed Sheeran

Ed woke up with the unfamiliar feeling of expensive Egyptian cotton sheets against his skin. For a moment he forgot where he was, but a cursory glance around the room reminded him where he was.

Taylor's bedroom. No big deal.He grinned, recalling their kiss last night. And the others that followed...

He turned over in the bed, sweeping his right arm across the mattress only to find cold expanse. He frowned, wondering where Taylor might have gone. She wouldn't have done a runner, surely? From her own home? He quickly got up and scavenged around the room for the previous night's outfit. After a reasonably thorough search, Ed was left missing a sock – annoying, really, but not terribly high on his list of priorities at that moment.

He all but ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs, calling Taylor's name out as he tried not to fall to his death on her hardwood floors. Relief swept through his body as an unmistakeable voice called back to him from the kitchen.

"In here, Ed. Keep your panties on" she grinned as he entered the doorway at last. He was about to reply with some sort of clever retort (actually, probably just a juvenile comment like "That's not what you said last night"), but the intent was knocked out of him when he saw her.

She stood at the stove, singing softly to herself as she cooked. Her unusually messy hair was scooped into a ponytail and she was clad in the oddest set of cat pyjamas he'd seen her wear to date. She turned and flashed him a warm smile.

Breath-taking.

Ed sat down at the neatly set table, slightly dazed, and poured coffee into two mugs. He listened to her quiet singing, adding cream and sugar to his own coffee and a splash of cream to Taylor's, remembering she preferred to take it rather simple. Smiling faintly, he stirred his mug thoughtfully.

"Wow, you're a really good singer! You should totally audition for 'The Voice', or something", he joked, grinning widely as she laughed in response.

"Gosh, you really think so?", she asked, clutching her hands to her chest in mock anticipation, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Yeah, you might even be good enough to get some sort of record deal or something. Maybe get a little bit famous, who knows?" He winked. They laughed lightly as Taylor set down a stack of pancakes between them. Ed gasped.

"You used my Delia Smith recipe! Oh my God, you are my hero." He exclaimed, clasping his hands together as though in prayer. She smiled gently at Ed's antics.

"Well, technically Google is your hero. Don't get too excited, I still don't have any Nutella for these. But, I do have some syrup and fruit – I think blueberries would go well with these." She gestured at the bowls of various berries and sliced fruit as he barely hid his disdain.

"Hmm. Suppose I'll make do..." He replied, sighing gently.

They ate in a comfortable silence, smiling up at each other across the table every so often. Once they finished, they loaded the plates and bowls into the dishwasher in tandem. The whole thing felt dizzyingly domesticated in a way Ed wasn't prepared for. He could get used to it, though.

Once everything was put away and the dishwasher was gurgling away in the background, they both stood somewhat awkwardly. Ed folded his arms, before immediately unfolding them and jamming his hands in his pockets. Taylor's hands fisted in the hem of her nightgown, and he thought she looked as lost for words as he did.

"So..." She began, prompting him to hum in agreement.

"Yeah... Thanks for breakfast. It was nice, despite all the healthy crap." He smiled hesitantly.

"Well, I would say you're welcome, but you kind of just insulted me so..." She pursed her lips in mock disapproval. Ed nodded distractedly. A few seconds ticked by slowly.

"Listen, Taylor-"

"Ed, I-" They both began at the same time. He breathed out a short laugh as she smiled, biting her lip. "Go on, Ed"

"Erm... Well I was just... It's only that I woke up this morning and thought you'd, y'know, booked it out of there at some point. And it just made me wonder – you don't regret it, do you?" He could hear the uncertainty in his own voice – it was not the least bit attractive. Taylor crossed the distance between them, tugging his hands out of his pockets to hold them.

"No, of course not! I mean, I was just going to ask you the same thing. To be honest, I've been sort of waiting for something to happen with us for a while." Triumph soared within Ed. He grinned at the woman standing in front of him, planting a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. He pulled back and he swore he could see in her eyes what he knew was reflected in his own.

Love.

Clearing his throat before he could profess anything, he asked what her plans for the day were.

"Ugh, thanks for reminding me. I have to meet Nigel in his office at midday to finalise some tour details." She groaned at the prospect of sitting opposite her manager for two whole hours. Ed found himself agreeing; not only was he not Nigel's biggest fan, he also selfishly didn't want to share Taylor with anybody else that day. However, before he could commiserate, he noticed something that made him howl with laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Ed only laughed harder. "Ed, are you insane?"

He calmed down long enough to reply;

"You might need to wear a scarf when you go there... I don't think Nigel is going to approve of all those hickeys!" Taylor's hands flew up to the conspicuous bruising on her throat, gasping in shock.

"You are so going to regret this, Sheeran" A rare smirk flitted across his face at her words.

"Make me."