Chapter Text
Leonora Lesso hates lunch hours. It's nosy, all sorts of conversations taking place, utter chaos as people try to find a seat, make new friends or bicker, and overall, there is the clatter of cutlery and chewing. She has always been incredibly sensitive to sound, but there is nothing worse than hearing humans chew. It gives her more than just an icky feeling, but a whole physical and emotional reaction of dread.
It's only one of the many reasons she prefers to sit and eat alone - to her luck, it has quickly made the round that the table farthest from it all is her space. Her reputation all around college is only another additional factor, which makes sure no one truly wants to be in her orbit.
Lesso knows she should care, and if she were a normal person, she probably would. But she has never been 'normal".
The students and the faculty members all know. She doesn't yell at freshmen, she isn’t a bitch not giving second changes, she simply values respect and is direct in making people know where they stand with her; she only glares, and usually that is enough for them to flee and not ever so much as dare to piss her off.
Today the cafeteria is STUFFED, and she can't even seem to get across the room. Sighing, Lesso decides to not be a bitch and fight her way through, and zick-zack slides between three tables until she finds a small, unoccupied 4 seats one. She has thought many times in the past of just putting in earplugs or headphones, but doing that increases her own sound of chewing, and that's not much better. So, usually, she just blocks it out and leaves as soon as her plate is empty.
Not today though. Something seems different.
And it's only when she spots a shadow looming over the table and senses that strange feeling of being watched when she realizes HOW different today is.
Opposite of her stands a darkskinned woman with pinned up blonde coils and bambi eyes, tray balanced on one of her hands as she extends her right.
"Hello. I'm Clarissa Dovey."
Leonora is stunned for a very long moment, especially as she figures the extended hand stretched out towards her is an indication for her to shake it.
She has never seen that woman before. She is most certainly no student, nor a doctoral candidate, and she certainly doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about "Lady Lesso and her (eating) habits". Or she doesn't care. Which Lesso is sure is not the case, because EVERYONE cares and shies away. Except Emma Anemone, maybe, but that woman is an exception for, well, everything it seems.
There are people who she would declare as hot, people she would call pretty or cute, people who are beautiful or handsome.
Clarissa Dovey embodies "beautiful". Her big, deep brown eyes and puffy cheeks give her a sweet, youthful look, dark red painted lush lips pulled into a smile so warm and bright it would have looked forced on anyone else, but not her. She seems genuine ... almost as if she really is like this.
Lesso decides, twice this day, to pull out her more hospitable persona and accepts the handshake. Her skin is warm and so soft she wonders how often she uses hand lotion or other beauty products.
"Hi", she says, unable to hide the suspicion out of her voice. She is intrigued, so to speak.
"So sorry to interrupt your lunch, but I spotted you and thought I could introduce myself now rather than somewhen later."
Leonora tilts her head and blinks, and apparently the motion is enough for Clarissa Dovey to understand.
"I'm the new professor for Visual and Applied Arts." She now holds the tray with both hands again and Lesso is halfway relieved it doesn't sway anymore. "It's my third day here, and I haven't gotten to meet even half of the other staff members, so I’m taking every chance I get.”
She means to say something, but one particular sentence of hers has peaked her interest. "You ... spotted me?"
Clarissa laughs quietly. It's a sweet laugh. One that actually feels pleasant to her ears.
"Well. Emma Anemone gave me a tour yesterday, and she might have said something about a tall, imposing redhead usually wearing nice sharp suits. That and some other, interesting things i heard made me come over." She sighed. "Also I have been dying to find a place to sit, and I figured it's weird to join the students this early in the process."
To her own surprise, Lesso leans back relaxed, food forgotten for a moment. "Well who said those "interesting" things about me?"
Professor Dovey smirks. She suddenly looks devious. "Students, mostly. But also fellow profs."
"Huh." Lesso chews, archs an eyebrow. "Really."
Clarissa Dovey is not backing down, or away. Only her smile slips a little over how Leonora looks at her.
Then she pulls her eyes away and gestures at the chair in front of her. "Is this seat taken?"
Lesso swears she sees the closest table’s occupants still and stare. She finds herself, strangely, not annoyed.
"Go ahead", she mumbles through a mouthful of chinoa mix. She loves surprising people, and she knows the students are most definitely surprised at how civil she is behaving right now.
Clarissa beams and something tucks at Lesso’s heart. She’s pretty damn sure that woman is a golden retriever. All while she’s a black cat.
"Thanks." She shuffles, brushes down her pants, and raises her glass to her lips. “I HATE eating alone, especially when no one knows me yet.” She seems like a chatterbox, but something about her isn’t annoying like other people who talk without commas and periods. “Makes me feel exposed in a very uncomfortable way.”
Lesso hides a chuckle at how perfectly opposing to each other they are.
"So how are you finding it here?", she asks, to her surprise, at the genuine interest.
And Clarissa goes off, eyes sparkly as she tells her everything from her journey consisting of train rides and buses – because she hates planes and tries to never use them if possible - all from Chicago to here, to how she found a gorgeous appartement overlooking the river, and how capable her student aid Sophie is. The name rings a bell – Lesso could swear that’s her student Agatha’s best friend. Sophie, who she truthfully doesn’t understand how she ever got that position, with an attitude like that.
"What do you teach?", Clarissa suddenly asks her.
Leonora, by now, has reached the last two slices of apples. Soundly she bites into it. "Music."
At that, the brownskinned woman frowns. Leonora suppresses the smirk playing on her lips. Yeah, she gets that a lot.
"I wouldn't have taken you for a musician."
She leans back, prepared for what would surely be a familiar conversation - out of any reason though, she actually wants to hear Clarissa's explanation. "What else than?"
"I don't know. Something ... edgy. With, you know, strong career options. Like law, for example."
She smirks. She doesn’t care at all that whoever will see her like this will certainly start the newest rumormill that she’s flirting with the new professor. It’s not that her sexuality is a secret. "That a compliment?"
Clarissa smiles sweetly and turns away, seeming to have found a crumb or something on her plate that must be investigated. "You just ... have the aura for it."
Well, she isn’t wrong.
Leonora lifts an eyebrow, still grinning. "The aura."
As Clarissa doesn't reply, her brain begins noticing details. Speaking of "aura" ...
Lesso scans her from her perfectly sculpted, sweet face down her neck, the base of her collarbones sticking out underneath a fancily stitched creme t-shirt, down her arms, to her hands. Two golden bracelets around her left wrists, one of them intricately carved. Rose shimmering nails, three rings in total, but none that looks like a wedding band. She wants to ask, but ... something holds her back. She shouldn’t show too much interest, not at the beginning.
"What is your instrument of choice?"
A question she can answer with all her might. "The piano", she says.
Clarissa's eyes light up. "Maybe we can play together some time?"
A trio of students walking by have a visible reaction to her words. Lesso fights the urge to send them a murder glare of minding their own damn business, and refrains from ...
doing nothing. She doesn't have to refrain from being rude. Because somehow Clarissa's offer doesn't give her the ick. On the contrary, she feels excitement flood her veins.
"You play too?", she asks instead, confused at the weird feeling that is so unfamiliar to her. She normally doesn't like spending time with other people, like, ANY kind of time.
"Cello and violin, yes", she nods and Leonora is utterly stunned at THAT revelation.
With her fork she points at her. "Violinist I see, the cello-thing is ..."
"What." Clarissa smirks and gives her a look through her long, dark lashes and Lesso feels a flicker of something trickle down her spine. "Now you're beating me with my own weapons?"
Fuck. She’s gorgeous. And witty as well, apparently.
"Just asking", Lesso says. "Don’t I have the right to?"
Clarissa nods, her rose-golden hoops dangling. "You do. I'm not a professional, though, especially with the cello”, she then adds quickly. “So don’t await too much.”
Leonora shrugs. "That's alright. All the more reason to show off."
Clarissa chuckles. "I don't think you are in need of that.”
Lesso croocks a questioning eyebrow.
"One simply has to look at you and feel the strength and power you emit." Clarissa bites into a potatoe. Even THAT looks graceful on her. Lesso is abnormally intrigued.
And … stunned. And a whole lot of other things.
“What made you change from one of the best Universities with great Art programs to this place?” Not that “this place” was bad in any way, but it certainly wasn’t The School of the Art Institute.
“The weather”, Clarissa chuckles as if it were funny. Which, in a way, it is. She’s right. Chicago was a pain in the ass in winter.
And … this is how they talk. About Clarissa’s former projects, and Lesso listens. She is surprised by how easy this is, how nice it is to listen to her voice. She has a nice one. Melodic, soft, and yet filled with sparksling energy.
She’s a mystery though she handles herself as just the exact opposite.
Leonora is nearly disappointed as Clarissa finishes her plate, glanced at the watch on the wall, and sighes. “I gotta go. Thanks for letting me sit with you." She shoulders her bag – a white, casual hobo one – and gives Leonora a smile she cannot remember ANYONE ever giving her.
“I look forward to seeing you around.”
Gods she is smitten. She can’t not admit it.
“Likewise, Professor of the Arts.”
She is careful with watching her leave, watches her still in her tracks to wave at a table of six who, apparently, seem to be in one of her seminars. Now that her face is imprinted in her memory, Leonora can’t help but follow her every movement. She wears what looks like silk pants in a beautiful creme-brown ... nearly too sophisticated for someone who teaches how to sew materials or how to properly splash colors together. She certainly has more than just a nice face as well ... Lesso feels warmth tingle down her spine and looks away. Who knows what's her agenda.
Lesso can’t wait to find out.