Firefly (Ed Sheeran)

I sit by the fire, rubbing sand between my fingers. I don't know why I even came, considering my friends always ditch me when we do stuff like this. It's so stupid...these bonfires. We basically drive out thirty minutes down to the beach by the lake just so that I can sit alone while my friends hook up with guys. It's pretty pathetic, actually.

My face is probably super red from starring straight into the fire for countless minutes. I brush loose strands of hair out of my face and stand up. I look out to see what everyones doing. There's a little less than a hundred people here, which is a lot considering there's usually only around fifty.

I roll my eyes as some drunk guys about to jump into the freezing water, apparently unaware of the consequences of it being mid November. Even the sand was cold, along with the air. Everything's cold in London. After they jump in, they all scream and everybody turns their attention to them. I roll my eyes, but soon I tense as I realize one of them is screaming for help. Why is nobody helping?

"Shit," I mumble to myself and sprint from my spot by the fire down to the water.

The one yelling for help is close, but as soon as my feet touch the water they instantly feel tingly. Theres a large drop in the water where it gets really deep. As I quickly grab the arm of the idiot, my whole body goes numb. I can see how he wouldn't be able to swim, hence the fact that it's bloody below freezing. I can barely tread the water, and it pisses me off that nobody is helping me drag this boy to the shore. We get to the sand and I use all my strength to help him up to the fire.

I call out for help and about ten people rush to our side. I'm weak from being so cold, and my friend next to me is coughing up a storm. Somebody gives us their picnic blanket and I huddle under it with the guy. I can feel his heavy breath and the cold wetness of his t-shirt. I really hope he's sobering up.

I close my eyes for a second, remembering that I have a bag full of clothes in the car, as my ex-boyfriend's bag of shit still lies in my trunk. I lightly touch the boy's arm, and he turns to me. This is the first time I actually see his face. His hair is tousled, wet, and ginger. He has soft features, almost as if you can tell he's genuinely a kind boy. He looks aware of his surroundings, not drunk. Odd. 

"I have some clothes in my car if you need something dry," I say. He nods smirking, but still shivering.

"That would be lovely," he stands. It seems as everybody has either forgot about us or just didn't care because as soon as we made our way towards the car everybody was partying again.

I scrape the sand off of my legs and shake my hair out. As we get to the car the redhead finally introduces himself.

"I'm Ed by the way," he reaches out his hand, and I shake it. He obviously wasn't that drunk if he's sobering this quick.

"I'm Madison," I reply. Ed looks sheepishly at his feet, shuffling a little. "Madi for short," I smile. He looks up smirking. Maybe he's embarrassed that a girl basically saved his life. I ignore it and open the trunk. Sure enough when I open the box I find three pairs of sweatpants and a few raggy t-shirts. 
He thanks me and sort of looks around, embarrassed.

"Is there a place where I can...erm...change?" He scratches his head and I mentally facepalm myself.
I look around. The only secluded place is the car (besides the woods, which are creepy as hell).

"You could change in the car," I suggest. "I promise I won't look," I say and he chuckles.

He opens the car door and I turn away, biting my lip to keep from giggling. I accidentally sneak a peak at the window only to see him shirtless. I stiffle a laugh and turn away.