red hair and a blue hoodie // ed sheeran

Chapter 39 - Caramel Lattes and Seeing Her Again

ED'S POV:

I hadn't left the apartment. I was too scared to go out there and face the harsh reality that she wasn't living across from me. I had spent the last weeks... months... ransacking the contacts of my fridge, sculling the remainders of the beers and just staring out the window. I watched as snowflakes fell past my window, like ashes from a fire. I watched as they tumbled in the steady breeze as they descended towards the already littered streets of London.

Don't complain Sheeran. I don't see you picking up any rubbish.

I ignored the smart comments from my conscious. Majority vote being I didn't want to admit that he was right -yet again- but also because I didn't want to start a fight with myself again over something so petty. I had tried to find ways to keep me from doing so. I tried cleaning up the mess that lay at my feet constantly but only managed  to slice my fingers on remnants of beer bottles.

I tried doing the washing up in the sink but got frustrated when my fingers became prune-like. I also tried  to make my bed but part of me thought that if I made the bed, I was erasing the memory of her sleeping her. I would erase the night where she slept in my arms. I would erase the memory of waking of to her beautiful smile and her tender kisses.

You need to get out of the house, mate.

I was turning myself into a hermit – I needed fresh air. Running my tight and dry fingers through my hair in an attempt to make myself look presentable, I grabbed my coat and headed out the front door to my apartment. I jogged down the stairs, in a slight rush to be free. Soon I was greeted by the smell of coffee and car fumes. It was unpleasant but it meant that I was free. I stuck my hands in the pockets of my leather coat as I made my way down the street. The air was brisk and cold against my exposed skin and only motivated me more to get out of the harsh weather.

I sped up my walk, not aiming for a destination – just aiming for away. I walked block after block, passing blank faces and blank personalities as they stared into the distance. I soon found myself in front of Starbucks. It was calling me inside, beckoning me. I sighed defeat and pushed open the doors, coffee beans absorbing into my pores. As I walked over to the register, the aroma caused the tension in my muscles to just melt, pooling at my feet.

"How can I help you sir?" The honey-coloured high-pony-tailed teenager questioned. Her blue eyes shone with potential as she cocked her head to the side inquisitively. 

"Just a caramel latte thanks, love", I asked her. She nodded enthusiastically. She was obviously new to the job. She was bound to get bored of it soon. 

"Sure thing! Can I have a name for the order please?" She looked back at me after typing my order into her screen. 

"Uhhh..." I needed a fake name. "Uhh... Liam", I responded. 

"Thanks for your order Liam. We will have it out to you in a few minutes." She finished with a bright smile as I walked away. I didn't spare a glance back at her. I knew that if she recognised me, my cover would be blown.

What cover? You just strolled in. Your wearing your iconic blue hoodie and your red hair is all over the place. You might as well just roll up your sleeves and flash your tats some, yeah?

Realizing my mistake I pulled my hood over my head, pretending to get a sudden case of the chills. No one seemed to notice - success. I leant my back against the wall and waited.

"Liam?"

My head shot up to attention as I threw my vision over to the serving bench. The same girl waited with a genuine smile on her face, as she pushed my drink out towards me on the counter.

"Thanks love." I acknowledged her. I picked up my drink and began walking towards a seat in the middle of the shop.

"No worries Mr Sheeran." My head flicked around at the mention of my name. My face must have displayed confusion because she chuckled. "Just because I'm a teenager, doesn't mean I'm hysterical about any sort of celebrity. As a fan, I know you must hate it when girls scream in your face – I thought I would give you your space on a day off."

I approached the counter and leant down so I was closer to her. "A fan you say?"

"Yeah", she admits shyly – pulling back slightly.

"Do you have pen and paper back behind the counter?"

"Sure do" and in less than a minute she retreated back behind the counter and placed the desired pen and paper in front of me.

"What's your name love?" I looked up at her as I grasped the pen. Her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes widened. 

"Emily. Or Em. Doesn't matter really." 
I looked back down at the sheet of paper and pushed the pen against the smooth surface.

To Em/Emily/Doesn't matter really,

Thank you for today. I appreciate what you did hiding my identity from unsuspecting café go-ers. Our little secret?

Love from,
Ed x

I signed my name at the bottom and slid it across the desk to her as I left and went to sit down. But as I turned around, the most beautiful person walked through the door. Everything around me froze. Everything except her movements – her graceful movements. As her brown hair framed her face and her unmoving green eyes stared directly ahead, my feet became cemented to the floor. This had to be some sort of mind-fuck. This couldn't be happening.

Sierra walked up behind her, guiding her the way I used to guide her. She had a new cane in front of her and her mouth was turned up at the edges as Sierra joked about someone inaudible to my ears. I realized that I couldn't let Sierra see me – she would take this moment and her away from me. I pulled my feet out of the cement and made my way to the side of the shop, out of eye sight. I watched as Sierra directed her to a small table and left with a smile to the register to place an order. This was my chance. While Sierra was busy, I made my way over to the small table, placing myself down on the chair. As the chair dragged against the floor, her head tilted to the side.

"Sierra?" Her voice. Her beautiful voice. I hadn't heard it for so long. I had almost forgotten how sweet it was. Sweeter than strawberry jam on scones with a side of whipped cream. Sweeter than the feeling of being warm under a blanket in the living room. It was just sweet.

"It's not Sierra." I responded quietly. 

Her back straightened and her mouth parted slightly, shock colouring in her features with a dark crayon. "Ed?" She whispered.

"Hi Zo."