ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ
Once in a Lifetime
Louis Tomlinson was taking everything one day at a time. Admittedly, life had been a bit rough the past three years but he had decided that the only way forward was through sheer force of will. He was fortunate to be surrounded by inspirational people who were always willing to encourage him to crawl forward on tough days. Granted, some of them were not currently there to bolster him but their wise words remained engraved on the walls of his mind.
His path felt like a barely trodden footway winding through a craggy mountainside but he clung on with raw hands and panting breaths. 2017 had been filled with the repercussions of 2016, leaving Louis bedraggled and nihilistic. Fortunately for the teetering singer, his support system had been a tad too amazing and they shoved him from the darkest recesses in which he had crept.
Walking through the bleak streets of London, Louis attempted to view his surroundings with the hopefulness and exuberance he used to possess, but his heart panged vaguely instead. Logically, life would never return to what it once was and while he yearned for that idealism to filter his vision, he had to accept that the lightened weight upon his shoulders was as good as it would get.
Crowds shuffled around him, focused on their phones, watches or the thoughts in their head but completely unaware that he was amongst them. The anonymity was something unfathomable to that day, yet a blessing he begrudgingly thanked the other lads for gifting him. It had taken far too long for him to recognise the benefits of their hiatus but they slid into his periphery day by day.
There was a lone camera trained on his movements but he was used to the occurrence and knew that he'd lose it soon enough. The X Factor would appreciate the publicity anyway; giving the public a taste of what was to come. It annoyed him how those thoughts permeated his consciousness throughout his day, as though the years of being aware of his public image had made it instinctive for him to consider the benefits and downfalls of every single thing he did.
Gloriously, his reprieve came into sight and undecidedly his pace increased, a minuscule smile uplifting the corners of his lips. There was his beloved café which undoubtedly offered him the seclusion he seeked at all hours of the day. It had remained constant throughout his many years in London, despite the nostalgia which ached in his soul upon entrance, he was able to hide within its walls and ignore the memories for the sack of secrecy.
Before he could grasp the handle of the artistically rustic door, the piercing call of his cellphone interrupted his determination. With a sigh, he pulled out the device and answered before entering the establishment. His voice was a murmur so as to not disturb the few customers but he listened carefully as Eleanor rattled off on the other end of the line.
"Hey, baby," her sugary voice began, "I know you have the day off but I was wondering if we could meet up later. When we do could you please bring me a frappuccino? You know my order but in case you forgot it's—"
The usual details and notes followed, clouding his brain with their complexity, as he moved to the counter and smiled apologetically at the barista. Fortunately, it was a girl who had worked there for many years and her shock had worn down with his regularity. As he waited for his girlfriend to finish, the recollection of the first time he had met her floated to the forefront of his mind.
He could recall the moment because it was signified by the introduction of Elora into his life, something that he would always remember every detail of. His attempt at being discreet had obviously failed upon seeing how starstruck the barista had been when he ordered but he respected her attempt at professionalism when she never asked more of him than the usual information required for a pot of tea. The potent blush that had tainted her cheeks was later reflected on Elora's when she had recognised him too but the different motives for such a response had always amused and comforted him. She had been so awkward.
Habitually, his gaze flickered over to his usual table. The dark wood was stained by the rims of warm mugs and spilt drinks - so different from the mess of a pub in the way that it appeared purposefully aesthetic. He briefly registered the presence of a customer in his seat, appreciating their jumper but annoyed that he'd have to find another table. Eleanor's voice was still prattling on in his ear, a reminder that he needed to order his drink and promise her that he'd get her beloved frappuccino later. Covering the mic of his phone, he spoke slightly louder than his initial whisper as he requested his pot of tea and smiled genially when the girl nodded.
He was aware that her name was Sonja, but it only surfaced once he had ended the call so he smiled apologetically and addressed her by name when handing over his card. The bashful grin he received in return caused his smile to widen before he circled his gaze over the café once more. Landing his view on the hidden table, he made brief eye contact with wide, brown eyes before he travelled onwards.
Wait.
His eyes shot back to the pools of chocolate he had barely registered. They had remained trained upon his profile with the familiar observant intensity that had once felt scrutinising. Over time he had learnt that it wasn't judgment glinting in the gaze, but rather wisdom and unfathomable awareness. At that moment, however, the appraisal her underwent received felt poignantly scrutinising.
It felt sickenly cliché how he couldn't look away. She had legitimately trapped him with one look and it took the repetitive calling of the barista to break him free. Sonja handed him his card and slip before reminding him that she'd bring the tea to him.
When he returned to stare into her eyes, he found that she had shifted them to her phone and was typing with a ferocity he used to tease her about. Louis had been waiting three years to hear her voice in person and despite the cowardice of his past actions, he was idiotic enough to suppress his shame with an insatiable need to take the opportunity.
Adversely, Elora Rayne's thumbs sped over her keypad, various jumbled exclamations of panic and incomprehensible jumbles that Harry dutifully attempted to understand before he gave up and just let her ramble chaotically:
Fockh
akldjfhiofnb
ehlpp
he's herE
i donno wht ro dao
send help!
Love, you're making no sense.
"Hi."
It seemed Louis was stuck in his cliché as the breath flew out of his lungs upon Elora looking up at him. His greeting was choked and his lungs stuttering but it was so easy to ignore that when staring into the luxurious depths of rich brown unfairly known as her eyes. The alarm in her expression intensified his panic but Louis couldn't allow himself to run away. Not again.
"Uh, hi," she whispered. It seemed her voice was trapped in her heart as well, if the blush creeping onto her ivory cheeks was anything to go by. He wasn't certain what the next step should be in their situation and it was clear that she, too, was unaware.
Clearing his throat and shuffling awkwardly, he asked, "Can I sit here?"
"Don't you want to take my seat?" she questioned with a joking tone, a deceptive addition of humour that was oh so similar to their previous banter. Louis could tell the difference though, that was her reflexive awkwardness – she was uncomfortable around him.
His mumbled 'no' was softened by the material of his jumper as he looked down, attempting to shield his unjustified hurt. The focus on her fidgeting fingers resting on the table brought his attention to the knitting dwarfing her hands. He recognised that stitching and shade with a spark of pain. Despite everything that had occured, or rather the lack of things that had, she was wearing his favourite jumper. The thick wool hung around her frame artfully yet cozily, reflective of how she used to curl up on the couch with a large mug of tea and laughter illuminating her eyes.
She must have noticed his discomfort as her features softened and she turned her palm comfortingly before assuring him, "Please sit down."
The waitress brought his tea over to their table as he sat down and smiled with barely concealed joy at the familiarity of the scene. She remained respectfully silent but glanced back once she reached the counter, watching as Louis sipped his tea with careful eyes.
"So," she leaned back, "How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm fine, thanks. What about you?"
The raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression reminded him so starkly of how she used to respond when he blasély answered that question. The fact that she still expected him to be forthright and genuine in his responses comforted him enough to lose some of the tension in his muscles.
"Okay, sorry," he cautiously smiled, "I'm a bit tired and stressed but I really am fine."
"Why are you stressed?" the honest concern in her voice prompted a bittersweet warmth to bloom in his chest.
With an insouciant wave of his hand, he returned to his tea, "Just a lot of preparation needed for the X Factor."
Her entire body leaned forward in interest and she urged him to continue, mentioning that she had heard he would be a judge that year. He hesitantly explained how it had come to be and what he had to do beforehand, cautious about rambling when she didn't care all that much. However, in her very Elora-like fashion, she constantly asked for details and showed her intrigue yet remained authentic in proving that she wasn't trying to scoop hidden details from a 'source'.
While there was an awkward stiffness unnatural to their usual interactions, Louis pushed it aside in favour of being able to actually spend time with Elora. He would have been naïve to believe that they would be completely okay with one another after two years of radio silence – and he was definitely not ignorant enough to believe it was anyone else's but his fault. They were able to form a semblance of comfortability as they discussed trivial matters, staying clear of the past and even their present.
The façade was broken, however, when he asked after her business and she chuckled awkwardly before letting slip, "Where to start."
"Yeah, I must have missed a lot," he conceded after stiffening apprehensively. Reluctantly, he sighed, "I've missed you a lot."
Her small smile was tense and slightly forced, warning Louis that he had said something wrong. Panic mentally ensued as he re-ran his words and sought out his mishap.
"Well, that's kind of your fault, isn't it?" his face slackened in shock but she shook her head and cringed, rushing to speak before he could respond, "I'm sorry. That was rude, please ignore that."
"No," he jumped to say. A sigh tumbled from his lips before he looked away, "You're right."
A silence ensued that steadily thickened with suffocated thoughts and withheld words. The things he needed to admit and mistakes he needed to apologise for danced across the roof of his mouth, skipping over his tongue and leaving him speechless in his time of need. He knew that it was on him to take that leap forward but he felt woefully unprepared despite the many evenings and mornings and afternoons his mind had wondered over that precise moment. The rehearsal speeches he wanted to give ran from his brain under the spotlight of confrontation, their stage fright leaving him grappling with barely conceived grievances he didn't know how to admit.
"I'm," an extensive exhale, "I'm sorry."
The wide gaze she lifted to connect with his was proof enough that everything needed to be said. There was no way that he could continue living his days without at least attempting to share his guilt and regret over his actions. She had to know what had happened. She had to know how he felt and why he had run away from her.
"I am a complete, utter, fooking arse but at least I know that I will never be able to make up for how I have treated you," he began, ignoring the furrow in her eyebrows. His eyes flickered to his fingers fiddling with the tag of his teabag and didn't raise for the continuation of his monologue.
"You are genuinely such an amazing person, a true light to those around you. Having you as a part of my life was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I actually, uh, I actually saw you as my 'something great.' I know that my actions directly contradict that but I have to tell you that it was never you. I know it's horribly cliché but, like, you were everything to me and losing you will always be something I can never forgive myself for. I just need to explain to you what happened so that after this I will know that nothing is left unsaid. An explanation and my regret is the only thing I can give you.
"So, uh, obviously you meant a lot to me and, if I'm being vulnerable, you leaving really messed with me. I wasn't in the best place originally and you really helped me deal with that but when, uh, you had to go home, I was a bit lost. Not a bit, I was super lost. I didn't really know what to do with myself because it was, like, everything was happening at the same time, you know? So I turned to my family and focused on helping my mum with everything."
His strained voice caught upon the mention of her, forcing him to pause and look away further before he could continue after clearing his throat, "When I— When I lost her it felt like everything kind of just fell apart. She was my rock, you know? Without her, it felt like nothing had any purpose anymore and I didn't know how I was supposed to, like, go on from there. I lost all control of my life and was struggling with this panic over the future but also an, uh, apathy towards everything.
"Under the guise of focusing on my family in the grieving process, I kind of drew away from everyone but, uhm uh, especially you. I don't want to lie to you but I also don't want to admit this," he chuckled tersely, "It was easier to officially lose you instead of holding onto this, like, mirage. I could tell myself that it was better to have neither of you and have no one in that kind of role in my life. I don't know if that made sense. Basically, I chose to ignore you because it was easier to, like, pretend that you didn't matter instead of battling missing someone who was gone forever and missing someone I couldn't have."
When he finally looked at her, the sheen in her eyes was obvious and terrifying. He didn't want her to cry, especially if it was out of pity, he wouldn't be able to deal with her trying to placate him. Not wanting to be presumptuous, he remained silent but his face clearly looked stricken enough that Elora shook herself from her stupor. Sniffing and wiping under her eyes, she deflected his gaze and inhaled a shuddering breath before returning eye contact a few apprehensive moments later.
"I'm sorry," she thickly whispered.
"Please don't pity me."
"I'm not-" she cleared her clogged throat, "I didn't mean it in that way. I'm sorry that life felt so hopeless that you felt the need to regain control in such a way."
He averted his eyes at the pointed accuracy of her conclusion but she continued anyway, "I understand though."
With furrowed brows, his gaze shot back towards hers and she explained, "I'm not that great at comforting grief but I do understand your mind and who you are. I don't think what you did was healthy but I get that it felt like the only way to cope at the time."
As he continued to avoid eye contact, she shuffled in her seat and coughed lightly, "I, uh, actually wrote you a letter when your mum passed but I don't think you would have received it. I may not have been there for you at that time but I hoped those words would mean something."
"They did— they do."
Elora watched in confused surprise as Louis pulled his wallet from his pocket and opened a compartment. Her visible shock turned audible when he tugged out a folded piece of yellowed paper. Unfurling the corners and smoothing out the many crinkles, her handwriting became viewable with its neat lines filling the space. Timidly sliding the page across the wood, Louis watched as her round eyes flickered over the sight before her.
"I read that letter every single day."
Her incredulous stare jumped between him and the worn-through, stained paper. She traced the faded ink with a nimble finger, hesitant to accept that her beloved words had made it into Louis' life and he actually cherished them.
"Your last line: 'Love and life are only for the brave and you're the bravest person I know; so you're going to get through this and inspire people who really need it.' That runs through my mind constantly; I repeat it whenever I'm struggling."
There was this period, for however many moments it lasted, in which they simply stared at each other. The cerulean of his irises seemed to brighten at the lack of anger in her gaze as a peaceful acceptance – perhaps understanding – started to trickle between them. Louis could only watch as she examined him, waiting for her verdict to decide whether he would be able to return to the path of life he yearned for or if she'd treat him with the same disregard he had. He selfishly hoped for the former.
"Well," there was a faint upturn in her lips, "hopefully this time you'll let me say it to you myself."
"What?"
"You don't honestly expect me to let you go again, do you?"
"What?"
"I have a lot more cliché pearls of wisdom to motivate you with."
"Are you serious?"
"We're going to have a lot more serious talks about your coping mechanisms and what happened but I don't plan on ever leaving again."
With the speed of a sugar-filled toddler going to Disneyland, Louis shot up from his seat and spun around the table. Elora could barely fathom his agility before the singer bounded into her, toppling them both off the seat as he clasped her in his arms. He softened her landing but they ended up on the floor with a crash regardless. After a second of shock at the quick change of pace and scenery, uncontrollable giggles erupted from the petite girl as she returned the hug. Louis ardently ignored the odd looks they received and instead held her tighter while murmuring 'I love you so much' in her ear.
The ache in her heart could be ignored at that moment as she whispered, "I missed you too."
So when they finally got off the floor and the other patrons could return to their quiet conversations, they sat down once more with bright grins and glowing eyes. He urged her to finally tell him what had happened over the past two years and this time she gladly babbled on about life and studies while he listened intently. The hours passed with laughter and tentative brushes of hands when insecurity or fear lulled their words.
When Louis eventually left the familiar coffee house, his steps lighter and a saturated filter covering his view, his mind remained focused on the enchanting girl sat in his special seat. While he forgot all about the burdening worries and responsibilities filling his phone, namely specifics of coffee orders, Elora flipped her device over and glanced briefly at the series of steadily more frantic messages from Harry. Instead, she simply responded:
Oh, I'm fucked.