Chapter Text
“This was the dumbest idea you’ve had so far” Clarissa manages to press out before she has to sneeze again, her whole body tensing with the force that curses through her body. “You know I’m allergic!”
“Stop thinking about the damn grass and focus on the important things” the brunette hisses and grabs a fistful of Clarissa’s jacket to drag her forward. “And stop sneezing, you can get someone killed!”
“It’s not my fault—”
“Shut up!” Emma shushes her before they round the corner of the large tent, away from the parking lot. The badges on the lanyards around their necks in combination with the brightly colored jackets allow them to enter the premises, to slip past security and access every part of the guarded buildings.
It’s Clarissa’s first day at the Olympics, her first day as a volunteer behind the scenes of the biggest event of the year—at least for some people— and yet, she isn’t sure if flying out to Paris to waste her summer in a green jacket telling people where to go in case they need guidance was really the best idea. At least Emma is there, too, helping, guiding people, and they can spend their free time together and enjoy the city.
However, after taking another step forward, she hears a squelch and looks down at her feet. Shit. Quite literally, in her case, and she scrunches her nose. “Emma, ew!”
“Look where you’re going then” the other woman just says and ushers her forward.
She kinda knows where they are going. Mainly because Clarissa hears it, partly because she is aware of the layout of this section. The last hint, well, is still sticking to her shoes.
Clarissa doesn’t hate horses. She really doesn’t, and she fondly remembers taking horseback riding lessons when she was younger, even if she wonders if sitting on the large draft horse the grandparents of the neighbor’s daughter owned counts. Fact is, she doesn’t hate horses and rarely sees them anymore after moving from Virginia to Denver, Colorado.
“Do you see the one with the red hair?”
That’s when she looks up for the first time in what feels like forever. They have left the tents, makeshift stables and cars behind to find a large outdoor arena right in front, offering not only space to train but seating for visitors, trainers and volunteers. But yes, she sees her. She sees the red curls peeking out from below the helmet and follows her slender frame down to the waistband of her tight fitting pants, her core swinging in the saddle with the rhythm of the horse’s canter underneath. When her eyes snap back to the woman’s face, she takes a moment trying to focus on it.
Emma inches closer and lowers her voice when the woman approaches, only to pass them again, which gives Clarissa a clear view of her facial features. “Leonora Lesso, Team USA. This is her sixth time attending at the age of 40 and her overall stats are insane. Six times individual golds, five team ones. Eleven in total. Can you believe that?”
“Well, she, uhm, looks like she knows what she’s doing?”
“Are you for real?”
Clarissa throws her hands up in frustration. “I’m sorry, I don’t really see the point of me being here!”
“Oh come on.” Emma rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed. “You’re here because you wanted to help at the Olympics, and I dragged you along to the coolest event happening here—horses, Clarissa! Horses! And on top of that, the Leonora Lesso. How can you not be freaking out right now?”
Clarissa shrugs and shoves her hands into the pockets of her volunteer jacket. “I just don’t really get the hype. She’s a good rider, obviously, but—"
But Emma cuts her off immediately. “No, she’s not just good. She’s the best. That’s like standing in front of an Olympic sprinter and saying, ‘Oh, they’re decent at running.’ You don’t get it.”
The other woman sighs and lets her gaze wander back to Leonora. She’s never been one to idolize anyone, especially not an equestrian star. Still, there’s something about the redhead. It’s not just the medals, or the way she sits in the saddle like she was born there. It’s her presence, the way everything around her seems to slow down just a bit, like the world holds its breath when she’s near.
Leonora brings the horse to a stop—a large, bay one— and dismounts gracefully, patting its side as she exchanges a few words with her trainer. The man, clearly older than her with both hands in the front pockets of his jeans, nods approvingly and even if Clarissa can’t hear what’s being said, she can watch Leonora’s face. Stoic, focused, completely in control. There’s no sign of arrogance, no hint of the pressure that must come with being the best in the world. She just looks so calm and content.
There is someone else. Another man, around the same age as her, who approaches her and reaches for the reins. Together they leave the arena and Leonora takes off her helmet in the process, revealing a cascade of red curls that tumble down past her shoulders. The sunlight catches on the vibrant strands, making them almost glow like fire against the backdrop of the arena. Clarissa watches, entranced for a moment, as Leonora laughs at something the man says, a rare break in her otherwise composed demeanor. It’s fleeting, but she doesn’t seem like the untouchable champion anymore—just a woman who’s spent her life mastering her craft.
“See?” Emma nudges her and pulls Clarissa out of her trance. “She’s not some untouchable goddess. She’s just a person. A ridiculously talented, gorgeous person, but still.”
And she has to agree. She really is gorgeous. Clarissa swallows hard, trying to tear her gaze away as the group leads the horse back towards the stables. She can’t explain why she feels so flustered. Maybe it’s the way the equestrian carries herself, or maybe it’s the way she seems so completely comfortable in a world Clarissa knows nothing about.
“Come on,” the brunette urges. “We should go introduce ourselves.”
Clarissa freezes. “What? Now?”
Emma rolls her eyes. “Yes, now. You’re not going to get another chance like this. Let’s go say hi. Worst case, she’s busy and ignores us. Best case, we actually get to talk to her and you will thank me on your knees in around six months time for introducing you to her. You’re here, volunteering. She’s going to be around the whole time. Maybe you’ll even get to help with her events.”
Clarissa scoffs. “Yeah, right. Like she’d have any time for a nobody like me.”
“You never know. Just don’t sneeze on her when you meet her. That might ruin your chances.”
She gives her a light shove, but her mind is already wandering. Maybe Emma’s right. Maybe there’s more to this than just pointing tourists in the right direction. But still, her feet feel glued to the ground, and only when Emma begins to pull her forward she manages to move.
Emma calls out as they approach. “Hi! Excuse me!”
Leonora turns, her piercing gray eyes locking onto them. For a moment, she can’t breathe. She’s stunning. Her red, messy curls barely reach her shoulders, and Clarissa’s eyes trail down to take in the rest of her outfit.
Leonora is dressed in immaculate, beige breeches, hugging her slender yet muscular frame. Her polo shirt, a bright white, is neatly tucked into her waistband, accentuating the athletic build. The brown leather belt around her waist is simple but clearly expensive, made by Hermés, and polished black tall riding boots—likely custom-made, the way they fit her calves—climb up to her knees, shining in the sunlight. Her riding gloves, also a deep brown, are casually tucked into the front pocket of her breeches.
She is simply breathtaking. Strong, composed, and completely at ease in her element, radiating confidence without saying a word, and Clarissa feels a rush of nerves flood her all over again.
"Yes?" Leonora's voice is smooth, but there's a hint of curiosity in her tone as her eyes flick between the two of them.
Clarissa doesn’t get a word out. She begins to stammer, suddenly at a loss and unsure where her ability to form coherent sentences went, and begins to blush.
“We just wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Emma, and this is Clarissa,” Emma says smoothly, stepping in to save Clarissa from her sudden inability to speak.
Her heart hammers in her chest as Leonora’s sharp gray eyes shift to her, lingering for just a moment longer than feels comfortable. Forcing a tight smile, she still feels the heat creeping up her neck, her blush undoubtedly giving her away.
Leonora nods. “Nice to meet you both,” she says. “Volunteers, right?”
“Yeah,” Emma chimes in quickly, “we’ll be around to help with anything you need, so feel free to let us know if there’s something we can do. Clarissa was just transferred to this area and I will be on the other side of the village, with the American swimming team.”
“Clarissa, was it?” Leonora’s gaze shifts back to Clarissa, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if trying to piece something together. Her voice is smooth, but there's a slight hint of curiosity behind it.
Clarissa manages a small nod, words still completely out of reach, and she wonders when the last time was that she felt this dumb and useless.
Leonora’s lips curl into a faint smile, but it’s gone almost as soon as it appears. “Well, thanks for the introduction. If you aren’t too busy helping the others get to the dining hall, I wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the early mornings when my team is still asleep.”
“O-oh” the blonde woman finally manages to press out, “yeah! I’m, uhm, unsure if I can do that, but I’ll ask the team and then let you know?”
“Perfect.” She gives a polite nod before turning her attention back to her horse, leaving Clarissa feeling like she’s just forgotten how to breathe. “I’ll see you later” they hear her say, before Leonora walks off. She falls into an easy jog to catch up with both her horse and her team, curls bouncing in the sun, and leaves them behind.
The squeal Emma suppresses comes out by the time they round the corner. “I told you!” she begins enthusiastically, “I told you she was cute!”
Clarissa barely registers Emma’s excitement. Her mind is stuck on the way Leonora’s faint smile had lingered, even for just a second, and how utterly disarming her presence had been.
“ Cute ?” she finally asks, her voice sounding too high-pitched for her own liking. “That’s an understatement.”
Emma lets out a laugh and throws her head back. “See? Told you this wasn’t going to be a waste of time. And now you’ve been personally invited to help Leonora freaking Lesso in the mornings. How are you not totally freaking out?”
Clarissa’s cheeks are still burning as they make their way back to the main walkway. “I don’t know, I think it hasn’t really reached my brain yet. Did I seriously just say I’d ask the team? What kind of answer was that? Like asking my mom for permission to go to the mall.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t completely freeze,” the brunette grins, unfazed. “It could’ve gone way worse.”
Letting out a groan, Clarissa brushes a hand through her hair. “I’m a walking disaster.”
“But a cute disaster,” Emma teases, wrapping an arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “And now you have a golden ticket to spend time with her. Mornings with Leonora? You’re basically living the dream. You can buy me a coffee for that later.”