victoria secret show

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I don't care how many times I see Ed perform each time somehow manages to be better than the last. It's the same couple of songs over and over again, but my god, he has a way with that guitar and his vocal cords. I have a feeling that even when we're 80 and our bones are cracked and our hair is white, I'm still going to think that the sun shines out of his ass. Today is no different, as I curl up on the couch to watch Ed perform at the Victoria's Secret fashion show. I had been sick earlier in the week and couldn't accompany Ed to the live show, so I have to settle for watching the pre-recorded show with the rest of the world. I've never understood the point in watching it before. It's just a reminder of the fact that my boobs are too small to ever be able to wear the bras they are modeling, and that I'm probably never going to have a six-pack.

I know those things shouldn't bother me. I've been alive long enough to know that models don't make up a significant portion of the population, and that I'm never going to look like that, nor should I want to. But there's always going to be that part of me that thinks maybe I don't need to eat every meal, or maybe I could work out more. Just a small, small part.

Ed's name flashes on the screen on my phone and I swipe my finger across it and put it to my ear.

"Hey babe, you're actually just about to perform" I tell him, answering the phone

"Dammit" he grumbles into the phone, "listen, I'm stuck in traffic and I probably won't be home for at least an hour."

"Don't worry about it" I reply, "It's not like you care to hear yourself perform. I'm the one who was sick and couldn't go.

Just be safe and I'll see when you get home"

"I love you" I can practically hear him smiling, "hopefully I'm not too terrible"

"I'm sure you'll be great" I assure him, "and I love you too."

I hang up the phone just in time for Ed's performance. He sounds incredible, singing, 'Thinking Out Loud' and while it makes me so incredibly happy to see him perform, I'm still kind of bummed that I wasn't there when it was filmed. He looks great, standing next to all of the models who are way more in shape than I'll ever be, and for some reason, I'm struck with a sense of anxiety over the fact that Ed could probably have any one of those models if he wanted to, rather than me.

Ed comes through the door about a half an hour later and I haven't moved from the couch, still ruminating about the fashion show.

He's juggling a pink box in his hand, and his face lights up when he sees me.

"Hey love, I have something for you" he beams, sitting down on the couch next to me. He presses his lips quickly to mine before handing me

the box, "your favorite."

I open the box and come face to face with a cake, from my favorite bakery in London. I hardly ever get to the city early enough to get the cake before it's sold out, so I've come to terms with only getting to eat it on special occasions. Honestly, it's my favorite thing about London.

But after watching that show, I feel like all I want to do is throw it straight into the garbage.

"Turns out my 4am wake up call paid off" he chuckles, "Want to split it now?"

"Thank you so much, Ed" I smile at his gesture, before setting it on the table in front of me.

"I'm not really hungry right now, how about tomorrow?"

"What?" His eyes widen, "For as long as I've known you, you have never been too full to eat this cake. Remember on your 21st birthday? You ate the entire cake by yourself in the car just because you didn't want to share it with anyone at your party?"

"Exactly" I frown, "I probably shouldn't be proud of being able to eat an entire cake"

"You okay?" He asks. He puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him, "what's going on?"

"Nothing." I lie, "you performed really well, and you looked like you had a lot of fun with all of those models."

"I wish you could have been there" He tells me, "I would have enjoyed it so much more."

"After seeing those girls you were with, I doubt I would have fit in" I chuckle, "I doubt any of them even know what cake tastes like."

"babe" He turns towards me and frowns, "I have a bad feeling you not being hungry has something to do with you watching that stupid fucking show."

"I'm a girl, Ed" I frown, "there's always going to be a part of me that worries about what I look like. And there's always going to be a part of me that worries about the fact that you could have any girl in the world."

"Hey" he grumbles, taking my hands in his "If you think for a single second that I ever look at you and wish you looked different, you're wrong. I have never wanted to change a single thing about you. Just because you're not starving yourself to be a model doesn't mean that I don't love you. You're smarter and funnier and more beautiful than any of those models to me. You always will be. Okay?"

"That's very sweet of you to say, Ed" I press my lips to his quickly.

"I mean it" he assures me, "I'd rather eat an entire cake with you any day."

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