Only The Brave ⟨⟨ʟᴏᴜɪs ᴛᴏᴍʟɪɴsᴏɴ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʏᴀ ⟩⟩

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ
Nice to Meet Ya 

Sitting in the small café while she stared at her notebook with a blank mind, Elora Rayne felt annoyed with her lack of creativity. The weather was cold enough for her to excitedly put on a sweater that morning, which she thought she would have been used to by then, but the London temperatures still surprised her. With the steam of her coffee tickling her nose, Elora sighed and took out her phone with the thought that music might inspire her. She normally found that the bustle of life around her was intriguing enough, but today her mind refused to pay attention to her task at hand. The familiar images of her One Direction playlist slid onto her screen and she pressed shuffle with a small smile, waiting for the melody to grace her ears. 

She released a tiny sigh as she looked around the familiar coffee shop, reflecting on the her time that she had spent in England and allowing her thoughts to wonder back to her home. The steady hum of morning voices was muffled by the music streaming through her earphones, leaving her with the weird displacement of sight and sound. She noticed a couple of the usuals sitting in their normal seats and she smiled when they looked at her, recognising the fact that she had done the same that morning. Elora quite enjoyed her hidden spot inside the coffee shop; the cozy armchair was tucked in the corner and hid her from the street but allowed her to see the people briskly walking passed the establishment. She liked to imagine what their lives were like and if they felt out of sync with their surroundings, much like she did everyday. 

Taking a sip of the scalding beverage, she smiled at the memory of her brother reprimanding her for making his tea too hot. With a quick glance at her phone, she wondered if she would be able to call him but then remembered the severe time difference between them - not that he even had a particularly healthy sleep schedule anyway. 
Feeling a bout of nostalgia, Elora focused on her phone and clicked on her gallery. As she scrolled through the countless images in her album, she felt a smile slip onto her lips. The random photos from her best friend reminded her that she needed to call home more often. Stumbling upon photos taken in her last year of high school, she chuckled lightly at the crazy group of people she called her friends. Opening a photo she took from her Matric Dance, she grinned as she reminisced the people she had left behind when she decided to take the opportunity she was currently exploring. 

The faint sound of the door opening caused her eyes to glance up momentarily and vaguely register the entrance of another customer before she looked down at her phone again. After a moment, she decided that getting nostalgic was not healthy for her emotional stability that day and put down her phone. As she picked up her fountain pen, forcing herself to think of details she needed plan, she looked up once more. The new customer turned out to be a man, or so she assumed, dressed in many layers with a dark cap and sunglasses on. She briefly questioned the summertime accessories before ignoring it with the concensus that the stranger pulled it off well enough for it to make sense. His darkly clad legs crossed as he lent against the counter and had a brief interaction with the barista, his cool words unheard across the music playing in her ears. Elora examined the suave air of his presence and took a moment to appreciate the confidence that he held in his posture. Flashing a breath-taking smile to the sweet girl gaping at him, he lent away and pointed at the board. She smiled and nodded before doing the normal exchange between a paying customer and employee, although Elora smiled as she noticed the barely concealed nervousness with which the girl interacted with the man. He motioned vaguely to Elora's area with a nod in response to the barista's words, which Elora assumed was a question of whether he would be sitting down or not. 

As the new customer turned away from his conversation with the worker, Elora realised that analyising their entire dynamic was rather creepy, but as she normally did, she excused her actions with the reasoning that she was studying psychology. She looked down at her book, wondering if she would now have the creativity to further her notes. Taking a sip of her coffee, she realised that it was finished and was filled with the disappointment that followed her realising that she should leave soon. Just as she was placing her mug down, her eyes flickered to the pair of jean clad legs standing alongside her table. With a pause, she examined the shining white sneakers and wondered if they were new or if the person had an insane ability to maintain that clarity. 
She looked up, ignoring her odd thought, and recognised the hidden face of the stranger she had just been analysing. His lips formed words and a vague idea that noise might be leaving his mouth popped up in the back of Elora's mind, but her persistence fought to pretend like she could hear him over the music. However, after a bit of a wait, she figured that maybe he asked a question that she had not responded to.
"Uhm, probably?" she attmepted with a vague expression of uncertainty pulling her face. The man's mouth tilted up a bit and she realised that she probably had answered incorrectly. Wishing that she could read more of his face, she conceeded to pausing her music and addressing the enquiry more directly. She switched on her phone, displaying the music she had been listening to and paused the tune that was filtering through her earphones. 

After removing the two buds from her ears, she tilted her head to the male once more - this time with a small smile as she asked, "I'm so sorry, what did you say?"
His face had a tense yet comfortable expression - at least from what she could see - and she didn't know how to feel about that. He then spoke up again, "One Direction?"
"Yes," she retorted, defiance in her voice as she refused to back down in the face of a hater. 
He merely smiled slightly and sifted on his feet, leaving Elora to wonder what his actual purpose talking to her was because she sincerely felt that it wasn't to ask if she was listening to One Direction. 
"I was actually asking if I could maybe sit here?" he questioned and she was left in silence for a brief moment. At first she had been taken aback by the accent with which he spoke, it was one she had never encountered before and that intrigued her, but then she was confused by his request.
"I mean, I don't see what the problem is with the other copious open spaces in the café," she responded, confusion evident in her voice as she looked passed him to the free tables scattered across the floor of the shop. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and she noticed the splattering of tattoos visible on his skin.
"It's just that, uh, all those seats are like open to the outside like, view," he muttered softly before slowing removing his sunglasses and revealing the most astonishing pair of blue eyes she had ever seen, "And uh, I'd really like to take off my sunglasses."