Chapter Text
Leonora Lesso was … unpredictable. Which should not surprise her, evil constantly found that quality to be their best. She had vehemently voiced her discontent as they had, side by side with the students, agreed for a Never-Ever-Ball after the mess with Rafal and nearly swore she would shut herself off from all the happiness that already made her sick by only thinking about it.
Clarissa decided it wasn’t dissapointment she was feeling that her sort of almost – friend wouldnt attend, it was more discontent of her not being able to jump over her shadow and grant the children the fun.
One evening though, to her surprise, she found Lesso in her office. Sitting on the chair
- or better, slumped in it - with her ankles crossed and feet propped onto her table.
"I saw you running around like you were fleeing from a rabid bunch of bees for days“, she said, pretending to be bored but having become pretty bad at it in her presence. Clarissa had learned to read her. „As funny it is to see everything going crazy over some ridiciulous festive evening ...“ She looked at her, blue eyes blazing. „I couldn't help but feel for you." She uncrossed her feet and sat up straight. "Need some help?"
Things … turned out very differently though then.
Turned out, a certain something had fooled them all the way.
Turned out, it had all been a game of hers to …
she wasn’t sure what her goal was, because honest to god, her brain had stopped working. Clarissa was standing at the opposite side of the hall that was crowded with happy Evers and tipsy Nevers, but she only had eyes for one single person. And she wasnt sure if the sudden heat around and within her originated from that factor or … due to how the woman who had secretly occupied her fantasies for weeks now was entering the room. Who was, without a doubt, an even bigger tease and better at finding week spots than she had imagined.
Clarissa was of opinion that clothes could very much be innocent. And Leonora’s proved this was the case. Because hers was the absolute opposite.
A dress.
She was wearing a dress.
Leonora Lesso whom everyone only knew in pant suits, waistcoats and androgynus countess-outfits was wearing a dress. One that seemed to be made of black velvet, floor length, flowy velvet that had a slit going all the way up midthigh, exposing part of her left leg and tapered, midnight black heels that rather looked like weapons with every step she took. It looked like some sort of eerie but elegant chest piece morphing seamlessly into the velvety material, with a v-neckline ending as spike-formes whose peaks just barely covered her shoulders. Looking closer, with the light streaming through the window, it showed a layer of dark green lace patterns covering her arms and some parts of the dress.
But that wasn’t all.
She wore her hair in a high bun, stray curls framing her face. It made her eyes blaze even more than usual, sharp and dangerous like lazors as she met overly astonished eyes.
So much about evil trying to not look good. What she had chosen had quite the opposite effect, even though was downright innapropriate because this day was for the students, this was a ball, not a ... she did not know. Or maybe that was simply her own, biased mind, because she had found herself being smitten with almost everything Leonora did, the few times when she wasn’t driving her crazy. It didnt help that she had wondered once, or twice, or more, what was hidding behind these dark dresspants and the coat. With every step, she could catch a glimpse of that now. With every step, Clarissa regretted asking her about wearing a dress in the past; due to that, leonora knew exactly what she was doing.
Clarissa pulled herself together.
She would jump into ice cold water after this.
It should be forbidden for someone to make „innapropriate“ look so horribly good and elegant. It was torture. Of course it was. Lesso’s love language was torture.
The smirk on her lips was unmistakenly smug, and she had the audacity of looking every student in the eye whom she walked past, as if she wanted them to stop and stare and be stunned.
Of course she did.
She was a sucker for attention and power, and today, she was using her appearance that was anything else but evil-must-be-ugly-rule obeying.
„I thought you were disgusted by only the thought of this ball.“ How the words made it out of her mouth, she did not know. So much about Evil attacking, Good defending.
Leonora simply shrugged, light and creamy skin shining in the light. „Should I miss the opportunity of throwing everyone off guard a little bit?“
Clarissa made a sound that was utterly un-princess like. She was glad she had decided to keep an armslength from the students today.
To her surprise, Leonora didn’t instantly go for the drinks. Instead … she did something no one would have expected, least her. She held out her right hand. „Care to dance, Dove?“
Clarissa’s heart fell.
Then she stared, at her face, her hand, and back into her face. „You must be joking.“
„Do I look like I am?“ She placed her left arm behind her back, took a step forward and leaned forward. Like a prince when bowing in front of his princess.
Clarissa felt her face heat up with emberrassment, anger and something she much rather ignored.
„Oh my god, stand up!“
Due to the angle, this was the first time ever she could look down at her. Leonora lift her chin a little, the smirk still on, still the purest evil that looked way better than it should. She somehow was even more intimidating with her hair pulled back, because now ALL focus was on her eyes.
„Why, are you ashamed?“ The mocking tone was unmistaken.
And Clarissa panicked. She wasn’t sure why, but suddenly being taller than Leonara made her feel … exposed. Which was, of course, the case. She felt the whole room’s eyes on her and prayed it was simply her imagination.
„What should I be ashamed of? There is nothing to be ashamed for!“ Her voice sounded way too agitated to her liking, shriking even in her head. Leonora broke into a huge grin. She wanted to wipe it off her face so badly, for how squishy it made her feel. „You are very cute when you are rambling.“
Clarissa felt her eyes dart around, wishing for something, anything, to take the attention off oft hem. Why was she even this nervous?
What was it about the guesture that …
„Leonora, I am serious.“ She interrupted her own thoughts, knowing if she would If you don’t get up immediately, I …“ She inhaled deeply, rummaging through her head to find something, anything, that could actually get to her …
„I will turn your wolves‘ fur into pink.“
The smirk did vanish … and if only that was all.
„I will, if you at least accept my greeting.“ With a sweeping movement of mocking aggeration, she pulled the material of her dress to the side as if it were a cape, and got down on her knee.
Clarissa felt her eyes zoom in on her exposed leg. Heat shot in her face.
Never in her entire had she wanted to dissapear so badly.
This couldnt be real, right? This was a dream, a nightmare and a dream at the same time.
It would be heaven if they were alone. Since they werent, it was the worst kind of hell possible.
„By all the fairies Lesso, get up!“
All Leonora did was smile at her, a smile that suddenly seemed almost sweet, as if she really meant it, but of course that was not true, she was simply playing her, enjoying the effect she had on her, enjoyed provocing her like that.
She wouldnt be doing that if she knew. She wouldnt do this if she knew about the thoughts in her head, the dreams. If she had caught her looking at her in between moments, stealing glances.
Not even Lesso could WANT them exposed like this, risking to become the school’s topic of discussion for the next weeks, maybe even month.
„Give me your hand.“ It did not even sound like a bossy command, had more of a genuine offer.
How are you falling for this? For HER? How can you?
„I will not!“, Clarissa hissed.
A sign. „Please, princess. Don’t make me beg.“
Her heart fluttered and she nearly gasped at the feeling that suddenly overcame her.
There was no way she’d get out of this.
So she jumped over her shadow, her ego, and placed her hand in Leonora’s. Her skin was cold, which was unsurpring, but … softer than she had expected, not at all rough.
A strange sensation overcame her as unexpected smooth lips kissed the back of her hand, followed by a shiver that ran through her as she felt her thumb‘s fingernail brush over her hand. She looked up through long, dark lashes. Smiled again.
It was the ‚almost-kind‘ one. Since when had she practised smiling?
„Was that so difficult, princess?“
Clarissa was fighting for words while Lesso finally raised back up to standing.
Finally.
Hopefully, this was the worst she would do to her.
„You are dancing on a very thin line“, Clarissa growled, or at least tried to. She had to get back on solid ground somehow.
Apparently, Leonora found it simply amusing. „Oh Cinnamon, is that a threat?“
She tried her best to not show any reaction to the nickname. „Just … keep it professional.“ She averted her gaze, avoided looking at her in general.
A snort disguised as laughter. „Professional? That is Good’s task.“
Right. How could she have not come up with that. Of course, anything that was against morals, decency OR modesty.
Why did she feel so attracted to her because of that?
You attract what you fear, her inner voice whispered.
And maybe she wasn’t so innocent at heart as she had thought.