Chapter Text
At 17, Laura deems herself too old to be going to the circus of all places, but her younger cousins insist and those big blue eyes of theirs are something she won’t learn how to resist for at least ten years to come. They get there early because if anything Laura is prompt, and if she’s going to the circus she’s getting her favorite munchkins good seats.
They’re five rows from the front and surrounded by overpriced caramel corn and cotton candy that undoubtedly cost more than she’ll be receiving as her babysitting compensation, and she can already tell from their excited bouncing in their seats that this is going to be a long night. The show is good, she admits, and probably if she was younger she would enjoy it. As it is she’s vaguely amused and adding up all the homework she has to do this weekend until the ringleader announces the arrival of the “Amazing Hawkeye”.
He bursts in standing on the back of a white horse with purple trimming, its hooves racing around the ring and the young man atop it releasing arrow after arrow perfectly into the center of seven bullseyes. He’s shirtless, which the teenager can’t help but appreciate as he rides closer and she can see what must be something prettier than sweat gleaming on perfectly formed, gracefully rippling muscles, and looks about the same age as her. His blonde hair shining in the big top lights is almost as breathtaking as his features, but even these two glorious sights are nothing compared to the shots he makes. She’s oohing and ahhing right along with crowd for the first time that night and she can’t rip her eyes off him as he performs acrobatic feat after acrobatic feat, all followed by an act of marksmanship that somehow puts what came before it to shame.
As his act finishes she’s one of the many who gives him a standing ovation, Maggie and Denise snickering to her right and left at their silly babysitter, and her eyes strain to follow him as far out of the spotlight as possible until he finally disappears into the tent’s shadows. For the rest of the night homework is forgotten and all she can think of is that archer and the gleam in his eye, the sureness of his stance. He looks like he was born to hold a bow and Lara envies him that assurance just as she fawns over his, well, everything.
The drive home is spent in a daze that is especially reserved for girls with crushes too big for their own hearts. The two hellions she loves so much are quick to pick up on it, and not for the first time she wonders how these children who can’t even spell their own first names can see straight through her. When she brings them back home to wait for their parents, the first thing they’re squealing is “Laura has a crush! Laura has a crush!” and of course her older brothers are quick to jump on it. By the end of the night the entire family has been told all about the “Amazing Hawkeye” and Laura’s blushed about fifteen shades of burgundy.
Still, Laura is the youngest, and as the baby, her family is dead set on her getting whatever she wants, especially since their little perfectionist so rarely wants for anything they can get her. Her parents take her back to the next performance with a laugh, and this time Hawkeye waves at the crowd with the prettiest smirk she’s ever seen. Her brothers accompany her to the following one, and she spends the night blushing between them. Her friends are her companions to the second to last show, and the young man winks at the crowd while Laura tries to convince herself that it isn’t a big deal that he seems to have winked in her direction.
Finally her sister insists that they sit in the front row for the circus’s last night in town and Laura beams from ear to ear while Lila rolls her eyes fondly. This time his routine is slightly different and about halfway through he does something that has her stomach plummeting to the floor. He asks for a volunteer of all things, but she can’t force her hand up. Luckily, Lila wants the best big sister award more than anything and she’s tugging her arm upward as Laura almost tries to fight it. Lila’s screaming “Pick her! Pick her!” and if Laura could blush something deeper than purple she’s so sure she must be.