For the longest time

IX

One time I read that the most effective way to stop time is kissing. I've had time being stopped before, many times, but somehow this was different. Not only all the clocks in the world had stopped ticking, but time had disappeared entirely from my mind as a concept. Time didn't exist because in that kiss everything was now now now. There was no distinguishable space-of-time from when Ed's hands travelled up to my neck and cupped my face, to when he roamed them back down and felt my cold skin, full of goosebumps, under my shirt. Our breaths became heavy and faster and I could taste the tea in his mouth. He pushed his body closer against mine until there was no inch of our bodies that weren't touching.

I hadn't been touched like that in such a long time.

His lips traced kisses up my neck to my ear and I knew that if I dared to let go of the moment and open my eyes and stopped dragging him even closer to me, the spell would break and time would be a real thing again. "Erin," he begged against my ear and I felt my underwear dripping, "can we go up? You have a room here, yeah?" 

As soon as I felt how hard he was against my leg, I dropped a moan and threw my head back, slamming my back against the door. "I want to, yes-god, I want you," I mumbled and took a deep breath before coming back down to earth and opening my eyes, "I can't."

I could feel Ed's face turn hotter and his ears grow red, he immediately pulled away and shook his head, "no, no-yeah, I mean, you're right. No, that was stupid, I'm sorry, I-"

"Ed," I interrupted him before he could go on. "Ed, I have a roommate and she's sleeping now. If we go up, not only she's going to fucking know, but she will rat me out and I'll lose my job."

He was still breathing fast and flexing his fingers to calm himself. To be honest, I was doing the same. "Oh... oh shit. I- Erin, if I'd known. Fuck, no- I just..." he started laughing and scratched the back of his neck, "I'm really fucking horny, Erin."

I bit my lower lip, my mouth stretching into a wide smile, "yeah, me too."

I wasn't sure how it had started, maybe with the text I sent him before I went to bed that night, but our chats suddenly became more like sexting than anything else. Ed had gone back to LA that week for an event and I fell asleep every night wanting his hard-on against my leg. We never sent pictures, although sometimes I was tempted to do so. Especially when my mind started to reminisce that night, thinking about all the possible scenarios we could've made if the coffee shop wasn't my job, or if I didn't have a roommate, or if he wasn't an A-list celebrity and we could've gone to the nearest motel we could find.

Maybe it was my hormones or maybe I was starting to do better at this whole new adulting thing, but either way, I was inspired. I started writing again and drawing. As Ed's texts got dirtier, my pen scribbled faster and in more than one occasion I found myself lost in erotic art. What really struck me was that I didn't know I had it in me. I knew I could be brave and write about the darkness within or whatever, but I never thought I could articulate my lust in such a way that actually translated what I wanted from Ed into words.

I found another way to cry. A happy cry. A lustful cry. Tears run down my legs. Such joy in dreaming you there.

The day Ed got back to NYC, I called his phone after my shift, around 10 pm. But he didn't answer.

I thought he was just busy or tired and passed out on his bed, but the next day he didn't reply either. I texted him and nothing. I grew annoyed by his absence because he'd been promising to fuck me hard when he got back and now he couldn't be bothered to talk to me. 

For five days I walked around with a frown on my forehead, a frown that wanted to tell the world that Ed Sheeran was a fucking asshole. And then I remembered his words: "Thank you for not asking anything of me. The mental state I'min right now... People want so many things from me. I try to be good and not disappoint them, but somehow I always manage to mess up anyway."

I started to feel like I was the asshole. I had begun to expect things from him, when -at first- that wasn't even the plan. The plan was to co-exist. It was such a selfish act, also. Because I didn't want him to be my boyfriend or mine for all that matters, I just wanted to fuck him. I was so into fucking him that for some reason I forgot that night we met and we'd decided not to ask anything from each other. I felt stupid and horrible and I decided I wasn't going to talk to him until I cleared my head.

The same guy that had flirted with me the other day came back and introduced himself, I recognized him then. Travis the bartender, he was there when I met Ed for the first time in my life.

Maybe I was feeling so shitty or so horny that anyone would do. Maybe I felt guilty for asking Ed anything and he clearly had a lot on his mind. I felt paranoid as well because it could all be in my head and Ed had just lost his phone. Whatever the reason was, I ended up fucking Travis at his place, one Thursday night, after both our shifts were over.

He came before I could feel a thing, but he was a nice guy so I didn't tell him I'd faked my orgasm. I knew it was a shitty thing to do, but I wasn't planning on seeing him ever again.

I walked back home to the room above the coffee shop, feeling disgusted with myself. It hadn't been worth it. 

The coffee shop was closed and I always went inside from the back door. To my surprise that night, Ed was standing there.

"Hi," I said, trying to hide all the annoyance and surprise from my voice, "I thought..."

Ed pushed himself off the wall and walked up to me with his hands buried in his jacket pocket, "I wasn't feeling well, and I didn't want dump all my shit on you," he sighed.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he shrugged, "do you want to go get some waffles? I'm craving waffles since this morning, but I've been too busy to actually go eat some."

I swallowed my I'm-sorry-I-kept-trying-to-talk-to-you-when-you-clearly-had-stuff-going-on speech and my so-i-just-fucked-a-random-guy story and nodded with a sad smile. Ed hugged me and it felt weird because, for the first time, I was needed more than I needed others. I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and stroked his back with both hands, "yeah, waffles sounds great right now."

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Hey, update time! Okay, so I have an idea of how this story is going to be shaped and all and I think it won't have more than 15-20 chapters and I really hope you're enjoying it so far. I'm taking a lot of risks with the decisions both Erin and Ed make, but I'm always trying to stay true to the core of the story which is "co-existing"

It's late now and I'm probably talking nonsense, anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!

-TJ