“I feel out of place,” Lara muttered, her voice low enough that only you could hear over the commotion around you. She clung to your arm, her grip tighter than usual, as you guided her onto the red carpet. Her polished heels clicked softly against the pavement, an unfamiliar sound compared to the crunch of jungle dirt or the scrape of ancient stone.

The crowd surged, cameras flashing in rapid succession, their bright lights disorienting her for a moment. She forced a polite smile, one that barely hid the tension in her jaw, as the photographers called her name from all sides.

“This isn’t me,” she murmured, leaning in closer to you. “I should be on an excavation right now, not… this.” Her voice carried a defensive edge, but you knew it came from nerves, not conviction.

You glanced at her, the faintest smirk tugging at your lips. "You belong here as much as anyone else, Lara. Probably more."

She exhaled sharply, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face as her eyes darted to the crowd. Her usual confidence seemed muted, like a flame struggling against the wind. But there was something else beneath her words—something almost eager, even if she wouldn’t admit it outright.

And you knew the truth. She did want to be here, even if she wasn’t ready to say it. This was just another challenge for Lara Croft, another mountain to climb, even if this one happened to involve gowns and spotlights instead of tombs and danger.

Taking a steadying breath, she straightened her shoulders and adjusted her grip on your arm. “Fine,” she whispered, her tone softer now. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

You chuckled lightly, leaning closer. “I think you already are.”

Her sideways glance held a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement, but she didn’t deny it.