Only The Brave ⟨⟨ʟᴏᴜɪs ᴛᴏᴍʟɪɴsᴏɴ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ⟩⟩

Her smile shifted into something slightly smug before she quoted, "'The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else.' That one is super quotable."

Louis' smile turned slightly tense as her words burned in his chest with the memory of Elora swinging the door open and greeting him with them. He had been so confused but there was something beautiful about how unashamedly excited she was about that story. Her tangents had been so amusing yet intricately complex as she weaved between cackling at the audacious statements and bursting into an analysis of his language and meaning. He recalled how at one time, Harry had said something so bluntly narcissistic without realising how he sounded that Elora's response was simply another quote from the story: 'I am always thinking of myself, and I expect everybody to do the same.' The poor boy didn't even fully understand what she had done but the mischievous glint in her eyes was enough to show she was teasing him. As he pouted at the realisation, her laughter had bubbled up from muffled chuckles into gleeful giggles.

The stranger was able to spot the shift in his expression as his smile turned fond and the twinkle in his eyes shone reflectively. She smiled similarly and appreciated the clear display of nostalgia. When Louis' bright eyes flickered sideways he blushed awkwardly at the knowing look on the stranger's face. Clearing his throat and shuffling uncomfortably, he searched for something to dissuade her focus.
"So, uh," he coughed, "What are you going down to South Africa for?"
She minisculely raised an eyebrow but answered regardless, "I'm visiting my family for Christmas. I moved to England a couple of years ago but they always urge me to visit so I figured I'd make the trip this year."
Upon her mention of it, Louis could pick up on the slightly unusual accent. It wasn't the same as Elora's so he hadn't been immediately attuned to it. That merely served to remind him of the spiels the aforementioned girl would go on about regarding the misrepresentation of her native accent in the media. However, she would eventually concede that she ardently tried to avoid speaking like that so she was particularly biased.

The blonde smiled when he commented on his approval before she asked, "And you? You're clearly British so I don't imagine it's a trip down to see family."
His smile glitched at the reminder as he averted his gaze and looked at the clear skies surrounding their plane. When he recalled that he hadn't responded he struggled to find the words, "No, uhm, it's going to be a very brief visit for me."
She waited for him to expand so he sighed, deciding that a stranger was the best empty canvas upon which to splatter his story, "Are you a journalist?"
Her expression of confusion would have been amusing had he not been waiting tensely for her reply. Her small headshake was enough for him to go on, "I really hope not otherwise I'm going to sincerely regret this."
He ignored her furrowed eyebrows to rather stare intently at his fidgeting hands, "The, uh, friend who read that book? She was staying in London for six months on some, like, practical-thesis-writing-work-experience thing. I don't know for sure, every time I asked she was speaking about a different aspect to it. For whatever reason she had, she was there but had to go back home in February."

His eyes remained trained on the peeling skin lining his nails, "We were supposed to keep in contact and it was going to be fine but then, uh, something came up and we spoke less and less. Eventually, I wasn't really calling all that much and took super long to, like, respond to messages. Then, uh, then I had to deal with something not so great and she, uhm."
He clear his throat, blinking his eyes and clenching his hands together, "she wasn't there and I really, really wanted her to be but I didn't say anything. Me mates had to knock some sense into me and now, well, now I'm sitting on a plane talking to a stranger and hoping it'll work out."
His chuckle at the end was uncomfortable and he refused to make eye contact as the girl grappled with the garbled story he'd relayed.

"Wow, that was super vague," she laughed and he smiled hesitantly, "but sounds romantic. I hope it works out for you, dude, she seems like someone you want to keep around."
His smile was so endeared her heart clenched for his unravelling love story, "Yeah, yeah, she definitely is."
When he snapped out of his daze, his blush returned tenfold and he stuck out his hand, "Sorry, I'm Louis, by the way."
"I know," her grin was cheeky, "Hi, I'm Mikaya."
The pink tint of his cheeks intensified and he chose to avoid that revelation for the rest of the flight.