Only The Brave ⟨⟨ʟᴏᴜɪs ᴛᴏᴍʟɪɴsᴏɴ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ ғɪʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴏғ ⟩⟩

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ
Fireproof

Elora Rayne liked to consider herself a relatively sweet and genuine girl, sure, she could be sarcastic but that was only if she was comfortable - and that was a rare occurrence. She was generally accepted to be respectful and gentle in her interactions with others, her aversion to conflict and confrontation being large motivating factors in her overall approach to social exchanges. The problem, however, arose when she was forced to anxiously wait for the kettle to whistle and the Tomlinson hoarde to bombard her with the inevitable interrogation they had been holding back.

Left unable to fully relax in her trepidation, she flitted through the house on hesitant feet with cautious words barely leaving her lips. Louis was so ecstatic to spend time with his extensive family, missing their warmth and comfort with an intensity that sometimes brought tears to his eyes - so it was easy to understand that he was painfully oblivious to the sideways glances constantly being sent to his shy best friend. They had arrived in Doncaster two days before his birthday, which gave him as much time as he could to encompass himself in the support of his loving home. It was all well and fine but it did mean that it was also more time for them to scruntize the poor girl that didn't even completely understand their judgement.

The unusual morning of the pair's second day in the suburban home began with Elora waking up far too early. The Sun had only just began to glitter through the dense clouds yet the faint gleam was enough to call her out of the fitful sleep she had been clinging to. A cold, pewter light illuminated enough of the small bedroom for the bedraggled girl to reach for her phone and check the time. Deciding that continuing her tradition of wasting an hour reading after waking up wouldn't pass as decent when acting as a guest, she tumbled her weighted body out of the comfortable bed. Mindlessly fulfilling the sluggish procedure of getting ready for the day, her bleary mind recalled the Tomlinson lad informing her that they'd be staying in that day. Seeing that as a befitting excuse to not put too much effort in, she grabbed comfortable clothes and toiletries before sneaking into the bathroom.

Upon exiting the lavatory some time later with minimal disturbance, Elora felt a fluttering a pride at remaining somewhat discrete despite the early hour. Her simplistic attire of a long-sleeved shirt and loose jeans with socks and a light covering of make-up gave her enough confidence to not feel like a slob but was also casual enough to pass for not being seen as trying too hard. Logically, the insecure girl shouldn't have needed to analyze her outfit so intensely but she was well aware of the role your presentation played on people's perception of you. After all, 'dress how you want to be addressed' had been savagely engrained into her by her beloved sister and Elora desperately wanted to be accepted by the Tomlinson clan.

Slipping into the kitchen revealed that she was not the only person awake, a shock she had not prepared herself for but really should have. Jay stood with her back to the door, staring peacefully out into the garden and eyes twinkling with a warmth that Elora so rarely saw in people. It was the same shine that encapsulated the fantastical blue of her son's eyes. The older woman turned around at the shuffle of her feet before a shocked smile slid onto her lips.
"Good morning, love," the sweet drawl that was oh so similar to Louis' caused an involuntary grin to seep onto her face before Elora stepped into the area and greeted back sweetly. An offer for tea was made, which the guest would never refuse and moved to help as best she could. The usual pleasantries were shared: how they had slept, whether she needed anything, compliments of the home and gratitude for allowing her presence.