Of Knights and Men - Jack Whitehall x Y/N fanfic.

1

I step onto the cold floor, and rush into the bathroom. Since I'm the only girl, and my mother had always preferred me, when we redid the house I got the nice room. Walk in shower, my very own sink, toilet, and of course, my very own cabinet. Before the cabinet was anything but my own. And of course I had no where for, when it was my time of the month. So I was saved of the embarrassment from my two brothers.

"Alexa," I say, wetting my toothbrush. "Play my Morning Playlist." I rock out to Britney Spears as I brush my teeth, and put on the clothes I had already put out for my early flight. It's an hour flight to Dublin from Kincasslagh. Kincasslagh is the closest airport to where I live in Gweedore, and not a 6 hour drive down to Dublin. But then from Dublin I'm flying to Manchester, to attend the Uni I had to get 15 different scholarships to even consider.

I hear a bang on my door, "Y/n! Get up!"

I open the door, and pull my suitcase out with me, "I'm already up." I roll through to living room and into the kitchen where Da is waiting to take me to the airport.

"Well look at you. Gettin' all ready for the English..." Micheal stands up and follows me. "One might say you were going to meet the queen."

I roll my eyes, "Very funny."

I take a piece of fast from the table and look out on the rainy Irish day, which is nothing from the normal.

The kitchen door opens, "Jesus, the sky looks like it's about to fall." Aunt Mary shakes off her umbrella, lacing it at the doorway.

"Is it, Aye?" Mum asks, sitting at the table stirring her tea.

"It's does so," she quietly follows suit, walking to the kettle.

"Oh, let me help you Aunt Mary. You want sugar in it too?" I rush to the stove where all the ingredients for a good cup of tea are.

"Yes, love." She waddles to where my mother is seated. "Jesus Sarah, can you. believe our girl is going to Uni?"

"No, I can't. I still can't believe we're all up this early to begin with." The woman continue to talk about our small town gossip, and how many other people died today, and blah blah blah...

"Here you go Aunt Mary," I steadily set down the cup in front of her.

"Oh, thank you love. What am I gonna do when you go to a England?"

Micheal scoffs, "What ever will we do without you  Y/n? We'll never be the same..." He mocks.

Dad walks back into the kitchen putting on a coat over his Gaelic Football jersey, "Are you ready Y/n?" He picks up the suitcase. I hug everyone good bye and comply with his directions. Getting in the small Nissan, we drive through the rain on the winded hill roads, watching the fog set, and my home going further into my past with every meter we drive.

•••

"Name?" The TSA officer asks me, looking over my passport. His British accent sets me off, for my whole life I've been taught to hate England for what they did to my country, and here I am, living with them.

"Y-Y/n" I stammer. "I should have a visa..."

"And why are you coming to England?"

"I-uh-am coming for college."

"Where?" I see him get his stamp ready.

"Manchester Uni."

He stamps the passport and hands it to me, "I studied there as well. Good luck."

I smile, relieved, "Th-Thank you, sir." I walk away, putting my passport back in my bag, questioning any response I gave. Will I be on the most wanted list? I am coming from Ireland. And not Northern Ireland, Donegal. Has anyone even heard of Donegal.

These reel of reasons why the British government is going to hunt me down up until I get in the cab.

"Hi, uh..." I look down at my phone, "Woolton Hall, please."

He drops me off at the front, and I heap my suitcase out of the back. I look up at the brick building. People walking in an out of its glass doors. "Hello," a voice says next to me, I turn and smile to them. "I-I'm sorry. I just wanted to say that I really like your sweater."

I look down at my arms and chuckle, "Oh, thank you," She seems surprised by my accent. "My Mum made it for me."

"Where are you from?"

"Ireland. Not very exciting." I adjust my bag on my shoulder, "And you?"

"Oh, I'm from London, actually. But it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Chloe," she puts her hand out.

"Y/n," I take her hand. "You're my first British friend. So jolly good job on that," we both laugh. I look down at my suitcase and grab the handle.

"Well you're my first Irish friend. So jolly good job," she leans to me. I laugh and begin to roll my bag. "Can I help you?"

"With what? Moving in?"

"Oh, if you'd like. I'm in room 6."

"No way, I'm in room 6 as well."

"Roomies!" I joke,

She laughs and opens the door for me, "Well this just got way more interesting."