The Only Exception - {TOM HOLLAND}

E I G H T

An hour later, and you've finally made it.

Tessa is running around wildly, tail wagging, her tongue flopping out of her mouth. Everyone but Ezra is carrying things from the car to the place you're setting up for the day. It's a little spot the Holland's have kept as a well-hidden secret, considering other, more popular, river spots and beaches tend to be over crowded. So just a little northwest of their home base is probably one of the prettiest natural rivers you've seen in the UK so far. It's nothing like the lake by your house back in the states, but gorgeous in its own way. The water is crystal clear and the soft sand patches where the water laps the land has clearly developed over hundreds of years. The stunning willow tree right by the river's edge gives your spot a perfect amount of shade against the summer sun.

"Come help with the blanket?" Dominic asks, and you nod, setting down the basket of toys and whatnot to help.

Grabbing two corners you both hike it up, letting the warn material balloon, before falling against the sand. You help set the cooler, a few chairs, and some other stuff around the blanket so if a breeze did come it wouldn't blow it away.

"Ez come here please," you say and sit in the sand, knowing there is no avoiding its mess, so you embrace it instead.

"Okay," Ezra calls from the water's edge, running over adorably, his curls bouncing.

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you can't help but pull him in close when he gets to you, peppering kisses all over his neck and face. Ezra giggles and squirms, his little hands gripping your tank top hard enough to wrinkle the material.

When you pull away from Ezra, you can't help but see some of the looks you're given. They're not hostile, or mad, or anything negative. It's like a bizarre mix of proud and confused with a dash of hopefulness that you're so not able to even begin to deal with.

Instead you grab the sunscreen and UV shirt out of your bag.

"Stand still for me okay?" You ask and pull of Ezra's t-shirt, leaving him in just his little swim trunks.

Ezra nods, "okay, like the soldiers!"

You chuckle, knowing he's referring to the Queen's Guard. With a loud popping sound, you put some sunscreen on your hands and begin slathering the boy in it. The freckling on his face extends down to his shoulders and fades until just a few show up on his hands. Long story short this poor boy is not a friend of the sun; therefore, he gets this treatment.

"It smells," Ezra says and pulls a face.

"You have to," Paddy says who is putting sunscreen on himself as well.

You nod, "listen to Uncle Paddy, besides it'll dry, and you won't smell it anymore."

Eventually you have the sunscreen rubbed in on every exposed part of his body and you attempt to put on his UV shirt on. Attempt being the key word.

"No, I don't want to," Ezra whines.

"Ez, listen to Y/N and put the shirt on please," Nicola says from the blanket, eyes torn from her book to look over at her grandson.

"I don't want to," Ezra repeats.

"You know Daddy picked this out for you, right?" You ask calmly.

This gets Ezra's attention.

"He saw this at the store and thought you would love to wear it. I can call Daddy for you and say you don't like it—"

"I wear it!" Ezra gasps, pulling at the shirt in your hands.

"Okay, thank you. I'll let him know you wore it then," you smile and help him get it on. It matches his bright red bottoms with white accents on it. Before you can do much else the boy is grabbing his bucket and sand toys before bolting to the water again.