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allsouls-emma · 11 months ago

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hiii!! this is request for my bestfriend who’s totally smitten over Léon LMAOOO. sooo her name is Léa ( she’s also french ) and she would looooooove a friends to lovers with Léon.I hope it’s okay for you to write about this 🥰 I think she also follows you on here HAHAHA

✧Colours of the water✧ ─

Léon Marchand x Female! Reader, X OC (Léa)

Hello Anon (and Léa), This was absolutely okay to write, it was super long, I would be a liar if I didn't say I got carried away... Enjoy!

Warnings: Stranger, friends to lovers, school, no prior knowledge of being an artists nor swimmer, oc, heated kisses. let me know if i missed any x

Léa’s fingers smudged the edge of her canvas, blending shades of blue into a deeper, more vibrant hue. The art studio at Lycée Ozenne in Toulouse was alive with quiet chatter, the scratch of pencils on paper, and the occasional exclamation of triumph or frustration from her fellow students. It was a sanctuary for Léa, a place where the outside world melted away and she could lose herself in her art.

Today, her canvas was dominated by swirling blues and greens, a depiction of the ocean that was both peaceful and turbulent, much like her thoughts. She was drawing from memory—images of the Mediterranean Sea from a family trip the summer before, the way the water had seemed to stretch endlessly, a shimmering canvas of its own. But there was more to it than that. The water in her painting wasn’t just the sea; it was infused with something deeper, more personal—a reflection of her growing fascination with the element, and with someone who seemed to belong to it.

She glanced down at her sketchbook, open beside her on the workbench. It was filled with studies of water, of movement, of light playing on surfaces. And then, almost unconsciously, her hand had started sketching him—Léon Marchand, the star of the school’s swim team, the boy who cut through water as if he were born to it. Page after page of her sketchbook bore his image: the curve of his muscles, the determined line of his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes when he was in the pool. It had started as an artist’s fascination with movement and form, but Léa knew it had become something more.

“Another day of Léa’s blue period?” teased Nancy, her best friend and fellow art student, as she leaned over to take a look at Léa’s canvas. Nancy’s voice was light, but there was a knowing edge to it.

Léa chuckled softly, trying to dismiss the question. “I guess I’m just drawn to the color. There’s something about it that feels… calming, like the ocean.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow, her expression sly. “Or maybe it’s because of all the time you spend watching the swim team practice.”

Léa felt the heat rush to her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, focusing on her painting with renewed intensity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nancy laughed, not unkindly. “Sure you don’t. You just happen to stroll by the pool every day after classes. It’s purely a coincidence that the team practices then, right?”

Léa couldn’t suppress a smile, even as she shook her head. Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Léa wasn’t ready to admit it out loud. There was something about watching Léon swim that captivated her. The way he moved through the water, so effortlessly, as if he was more at home there than on land, drew her in. And though she told herself it was just an artist’s fascination with movement, she knew deep down it was more than that.

“He��s talented,” Léa finally admitted, as she added another brushstroke to her painting. The water in her landscape was beginning to take shape, with swirling currents and hidden depths.

Nancy tilted her head, studying her friend with a mischievous grin. “Talented? Léa, the guy is practically a fish. I’ve seen you sketching him in your notebook. Don’t try to deny it.”

Léa bit her lip, caught in the act. She had indeed filled pages of her sketchbook with quick, rough sketches of Léon—his powerful strokes, the curve of his back as he dove into the water, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the end of the pool. Each sketch was a study in motion, in the way his body seemed to meld with the water, becoming one fluid, unstoppable force.

“He’s just… interesting to draw,” Léa said, a little defensively. “There’s so much energy in the way he moves. It’s like he becomes one with the water.”

Nancy smiled gently, sensing that there was more to Léa’s interest than just an artist’s fascination with movement. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

Léa shook her head quickly, her stomach flipping at the mere thought. “No, no. I’m sure he doesn’t even know I exist.”

Nancy tilted her head, thinking. “You never know. I mean, he might surprise you. Plus, you’ve been drawing him for weeks. Maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

Léa considered this, her heart fluttering at the thought of actually speaking to Léon. But she quickly dismissed it. Léon Marchand was popular, always surrounded by his teammates and friends. He probably had no idea who she was, just another face in the crowd.

But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him. When she wasn’t working on her art, she found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to talk to him, to get to know him. There was something about his quiet intensity that intrigued her, something that made her want to understand what went on behind those focused, determined eyes.

With a sigh, Léa set down her brush and wiped her hands on a rag. “I should probably get going,” she said, glancing at the clock. “I have to walk by the pool on my way home, and I’d rather not run into the team.”

Nancy grinned. “Oh, sure. You wouldn’t want to accidentally bump into Léon or anything.”

Léa rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. “See you tomorrow, Nancy.”

As she packed up her supplies and slung her bag over her shoulder, Léa couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe she should take a chance, step out of her comfort zone. After all, art was about taking risks, about exploring the unknown.

And who knew? Maybe there was more to Léon Marchand than just swimming.

***

Léa walked through the campus, her thoughts swirling as she tried to shake off the conversation with Nancy. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds. The cool evening air was a welcome change from the stuffy art studio, and Léa took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

As she neared the pool, she could hear the faint sounds of splashing and the rhythmic calls of the coach. The swim team was still practicing, their dedication evident in the long hours they put in. Léa hesitated, considering taking a different route, but something stopped her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the small voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Nancy’s, urging her to take a chance.

She found herself walking closer to the pool, her footsteps slowing as she neared the fence that surrounded it. Through the gaps in the chain-link, she could see the swimmers cutting through the water, their movements powerful and precise. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, her eyes found Léon.

He was in the middle of a lap, his body slicing through the water with an ease that took her breath away. Léa watched, captivated, as he reached the end of the pool and flipped underwater, pushing off the wall with a burst of energy. For a moment, it was as if time slowed, and all she could see was the water swirling around him, the play of light on his skin, the sheer power and grace in his movements.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, Léon looked up.

Their eyes met, and Léa’s breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she considered turning and walking away, pretending she hadn’t been staring. But something in his expression stopped her. There was no irritation, no annoyance—just a hint of curiosity.

Léon pulled himself out of the pool, water streaming off his body as he grabbed a towel and wiped his face. He said something to his coach, who nodded, and then, to Léa’s surprise, he started walking toward her.

Panic surged through her. What was she supposed to say? What was he going to say? But before she could make up her mind to flee, Léon was standing in front of her, towel draped over his shoulders, his dark hair dripping water onto the pavement.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warm and surprisingly soft. “You’re Léa, right? From art class?”

Léa blinked, taken aback. “Uh, yeah. How did you…?”

Léon smiled, a small, boyish grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I’ve seen you around. Plus, Nancy is in my history class. She mentioned you once or twice.”

Léa mentally cursed Nancy and her big mouth but managed a small smile. “I didn’t realize you knew who I was.”

“Of course I do,” Léon said, his tone casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re always sketching near the pool. You’re really talented.”

Léa felt her cheeks heat up again, and she ducked her head, suddenly shy. “Thanks. I, um, didn’t think anyone noticed.”

Léon chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made her stomach flip. “Hard not to

Certainly! Here's an extended version of **Chapter 2: Unexpected Encounters**. I'll focus on building Léa and Léon's friendship through more detailed interactions, shared moments, and the beginning of a deeper connection. This chapter will delve into their budding relationship, highlighting how their shared interests and differences draw them closer.

---

The warmth of Léon’s smile lingered in Léa’s mind long after she left the pool that evening. As she walked home, her thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation. It had been brief, but it was enough to ignite something inside her—something that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Léon Marchand, the school’s swimming prodigy, had not only noticed her but had also complimented her art. And what was more, he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her.

The next day, Léa found herself replaying the encounter in her head as she sat in her morning classes. Her teachers’ voices became a distant hum as she sketched absentmindedly in the margins of her notebook. Little doodles of water droplets, waves, and even a rough sketch of Léon swimming filled the pages. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of the period.

It wasn’t until Nancy nudged her that Léa snapped out of her daydream. “You’re really out of it today,” Nancy said, her tone laced with curiosity. “Did something happen last night after you left the studio?”

Léa hesitated for a moment before deciding to tell Nancy the truth. After all, Nancy had been the one encouraging her to make a move. “I… I actually talked to Léon yesterday.”

Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You what? No way! What did he say? How did it happen?”

Léa blushed at the excitement in Nancy’s voice. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just… recognized me and came over to say hi. He said he’s seen me around and that he thinks I’m talented.”

“Of course he thinks you’re talented,” Nancy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “But still, that’s huge, Léa! Did you talk about anything else?”

Léa nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the conversation. “He said he’d like to see more of my work. I guess… I guess he’s interested in art?”

Nancy’s grin widened. “See? I told you! He’s into you, Léa. This is your chance. You should invite him to the studio, show him what you’re working on.”

Léa’s heart fluttered at the idea, but the thought of spending more time with Léon also made her nervous. “I don’t know… What if he’s just being polite?”

Nancy shook her head, undeterred. “Trust me, guys don’t go out of their way to compliment a girl’s art unless they’re genuinely interested. You should totally take him up on it.”

Despite her nerves, Léa couldn’t deny the thrill of the possibility. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe Léon’s interest was more than just casual curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

***

After school, Léa found herself heading toward the art studio with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She had spent the entire day trying to muster the courage to approach Léon again, and now that the moment was here, her stomach was in knots. What if he didn’t remember their conversation? Or worse, what if he had changed his mind?

She reached the art studio and hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. Just as she was about to push it open, a voice called out from behind her.

“Léa!”

She turned around to see Léon jogging toward her, a bright smile on his face. He was still dressed in his school uniform, but his hair was slightly damp, as if he had just come from the pool.

“Hey,” Léa said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Were you looking for me?”

Léon nodded, coming to a stop in front of her. “Yeah, I was hoping to catch you before you went home. I wanted to see if I could check out your art, like we talked about yesterday.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat. He had remembered. “Oh, sure! I was just heading in to work on something. You’re welcome to join me.”

Léon’s smile widened. “Great! I’ve never actually been inside the art studio before.”

Léa pushed open the door, leading Léon into the spacious room filled with easels, canvases, and art supplies. The familiar smell of paint and charcoal greeted them, and Léa felt a sense of comfort wash over her. This was her space, her sanctuary, and sharing it with someone else—especially someone like Léon—felt both intimate and exciting.

“This is where the magic happens,” Léa said with a shy smile as she guided him to her workspace. Her canvas from the day before was still propped up on the easel, the swirling ocean scene halfway complete.

Léon’s eyes widened as he took in the painting. “Wow, Léa. This is amazing. The way you’ve captured the movement of the water… it’s almost like you can feel it.”

Léa’s cheeks flushed with pride. “Thank you. Water has always fascinated me—the way it moves, the way it reflects light. It’s challenging to capture, but it’s also really rewarding.”

Léon nodded, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “I can see that. It’s like the water is alive, almost like it has a personality.”

Léa smiled, appreciating his thoughtful observation. “That’s exactly what I was going for. Water is so dynamic, so full of life. I wanted to show that in my work.”

Léon turned to her, his expression sincere. “You’ve definitely succeeded. I’m really impressed, Léa. You have a gift.”

Léa looked down, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his praise. “I’m just doing what I love.”

“And it shows,” Léon said softly.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them filled with unspoken words. Léa could feel her heart beating faster, and she wondered if Léon felt it too—this strange, new connection that was forming between them.

“So, do you have any other pieces you’re working on?” Léon asked, breaking the silence.

Léa nodded, eager to share more of her work with him. “Yeah, I’ve got a few sketches in my notebook. They’re not finished, but you’re welcome to take a look.”

She reached for her sketchbook, flipping it open to a page filled with rough drawings of water—waves crashing against rocks, raindrops falling on a pond, a river winding through a forest. And there, among the sketches, were the drawings of Léon swimming, his form fluid and powerful.

Léon’s eyes lit up as he recognized himself in the sketches. “Are these… me?”

Léa blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been watching the swim team practice, and I just… found your movements really inspiring.”

“Mind?” Léon said, his voice filled with awe. “Léa, these are incredible. I had no idea anyone was paying that much attention to what I do in the pool.”

Léa smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “You make it look so easy, like you’re one with the water. I couldn’t help but be inspired.”

Léon looked at her, his gaze intense. “I’m flattered. Really. No one’s ever seen me that way before.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. She could see now that Léon wasn’t just being polite—he genuinely appreciated her work, and that made her feel more confident in her abilities than ever before.

They spent the next hour talking about art and swimming, sharing stories about their passions and the challenges they faced. Léa learned that Léon had been swimming since he was a child, following in the footsteps of his parents who were both accomplished athletes. He told her about the pressure he felt to live up to their expectations and how he found solace in the water, where everything else seemed to fade away.

In return, Léa shared her own struggles with self-doubt, how she sometimes questioned whether her art was good enough, and how she often felt overshadowed by the more extroverted students in the art program. Léon listened intently, offering words of encouragement that made her feel understood and appreciated in a way she hadn’t experienced before.

By the time they left the studio, the sun had set, and the campus was bathed in the soft glow of twilight. Léa and Léon walked side by side, their conversation continuing easily, as if they had known each other for years instead of just a few days.

As they reached the edge of the campus where their paths would diverge, Léa felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t want the evening to end, didn’t want to say goodbye to this new, exciting connection they had forged.

“Thanks for showing me your art, Léa,” Léon said, his voice warm. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Léa replied, smiling up at him. “I’m glad you came. It was nice getting to know you better.”

Léon hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you maybe want to hang out again sometime? I’d love to see more of you”

---

The days that followed their shared evening in the art studio were a blur of stolen glances, whispered conversations, and a growing tension that neither Léa nor Léon could ignore. What had started as a simple interest in each other’s passions had evolved into something deeper, something neither of them was quite ready to put into words.

But they didn’t need words. Their connection spoke for itself in the small moments—the way Léa’s heart raced whenever she saw Léon waiting for her outside the studio, or the way Léon’s eyes would light up whenever he caught sight of her in the hallway. They began spending more time together, finding excuses to meet after classes, whether it was to walk home together, take a stroll through the nearby park, or simply talk about everything and nothing at all.

One Friday evening, Léon invited Léa to the pool after hours, when the swim team had finished practice, and the place was quiet. It was a bold move, and one that had Léa’s heart pounding as she agreed. The idea of being alone with Léon in the dimly lit pool area, with nothing but the sound of water lapping at the edges, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Léa arrived at the pool to find Léon already there, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the water. The overhead lights cast a soft glow over the surface, creating rippling reflections that danced on the walls. He looked up as she approached, his face breaking into a smile that made her stomach flutter.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice echoing softly in the large space.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she walked over to join him. She sat down beside him, her legs folded beneath her as she dipped a hand into the cool water.

For a moment, they simply sat there in comfortable silence, the tension between them palpable. Léa could feel the warmth radiating from Léon’s body, the proximity sending her senses into overdrive. She had never been this close to him before, and the awareness of his presence was almost overwhelming.

“Do you ever get tired of the water?” Léa asked suddenly, her voice breaking the stillness.

Léon glanced at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Sometimes. But it’s also where I feel most at peace. It’s like… everything else fades away when I’m in the water. The pressure, the expectations, the noise. It all just disappears.”

Léa nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. She felt something similar when she was painting, when she could lose herself in the strokes of her brush and the colors on her canvas. But there was more to it than that, something deeper that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“It must be nice,” she said softly, “to have something that makes everything else disappear.”

Léon’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression intense, as if he was searching for something in her words. “It is,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I think I’ve found something else that does that too.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at her, the meaning behind his words clear. She felt a rush of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all mingling together in a heady mix that left her breathless.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Léon reached out, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters, but it sent a shiver down her spine all the same.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that,” Léon murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Léa’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. “Léon…”

But he didn’t let her finish. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding, as if he had been holding back for far too long and couldn’t wait another second.

Léa’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to rest on Léon’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her fingertips. The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them, the warmth of his lips against hers, and the sensation of his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to a growing hunger as they lost themselves in each other. Léa had never felt anything like this before—this intense, overwhelming need to be closer to him, to feel every part of him. It was as if something had been unlocked inside her, something she hadn’t even known was there, and now it was impossible to ignore.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Léa’s eyes fluttered open to find Léon staring at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that made her heart skip another beat.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Léon admitted, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Léa couldn’t help but smile, her own feelings mirrored in his words. “Me too.”

For a moment, they just sat there, caught up in the intensity of the moment, neither of them wanting to break the spell. But eventually, Léon pulled back slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“I want to see you again, Léa. More than just at school or in the studio. I want to spend more time with you… outside of all this,” he said, his voice full of sincerity.

Léa’s heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. “I’d like that too, Léon.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made her feel like she was floating. “Good. How about tomorrow? We could go to the park, take a walk, and just… talk. Get to know each other better.”

Léa nodded, excitement bubbling up inside her at the thought of spending more time with him. “That sounds perfect.”

They lingered for a while longer, neither of them quite ready to leave the moment behind. Eventually, they stood up, their hands brushing against each other as they made their way out of the pool area, the tension between them now tinged with something new—hope, anticipation, and the beginnings of a deeper connection.

***

The next day, the sun was shining brightly as Léa made her way to the park where she had agreed to meet Léon. The air was crisp with the scent of autumn leaves, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It was the perfect day for a walk, but Léa’s mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Léon to fully appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.

She spotted him almost immediately, leaning against a tree near the entrance to the park, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her approach. The sight of him made her heart skip a beat, just like it always did, but there was something different today—something that made her feel both excited and nervous all at once.

“Hey,” Léon greeted her with a smile as she walked up to him.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her own smile mirroring his.

They started walking side by side, the path winding through the park shaded by the tall trees overhead. The conversation was easy, flowing naturally as they talked about everything from their favorite books to their plans for the future. Léa found herself opening up to him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her hopes, her dreams, and even her fears.

Léon listened attentively, his responses thoughtful and sincere. He shared his own dreams with her—his desire to one day compete in the Olympics, his love for swimming, and how he sometimes felt trapped by the expectations that came with being a prodigy. Léa could see the passion in his eyes when he talked about swimming, but also the weight of the pressure he was under.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you have to live up to other people’s expectations,” Léa said softly as they sat down on a bench overlooking a small pond. “It can be overwhelming, especially when it feels like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

Léon looked at her, his expression intense. “Exactly. It’s like… everyone expects me to be this perfect athlete, to always win, to never make a mistake. But sometimes I just want to swim because I love it, not because I have to prove something.”

Léa reached out, placing her hand on his. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Léon. You’re already amazing, just as you are.”

Léon’s eyes softened at her words, and he turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Thank you, Léa. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, their hands still clasped together, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The connection between them had grown stronger, the spark that had been there from the beginning now fanned into a flame that was impossible to ignore.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Léon turned to Léa, his gaze searching. “Léa, I don’t want to rush things, but… I really like you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Léa.

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