Blossoming stars (Diego Brando X Reader)

Chapter 6: Dignity

Y/N was visibly shaking.
 She didn't think about any plan to carry out in case somebody found out about her true identity, because she was sure the way she was dressed was well elaborated. She wore a long, dark blue coat which was large enough to cover up all of her feminine curves; she wore brown gloves on her small, delicate hands and a helmet that concealed part of her faces' features with the shadow it projected.
Y/N was a girl that just wanted to escape a life of injustice.
She was just a woman who wanted to show her talent and determination; she didn't think twice about entering the Steel Ball Run, but that dream was now in danger.
The person who got to know her secret wasn't just a simpleton who she could manipulate into not saying the truth to the world, and it surely wasn't some weakling she could convince to keep his mouth shut with a threat and a dagger.
Truth was, the woman had never felt so in danger her whole life.

Complete silence wrapped that warm inn room as the crescent moon shined in the night sky. 
Diego Brando stood up with his arms crossed, looking away from Y/N and still trying to elaborate what he just found out. He himself had no idea of what he could've done with his rival: there sure was some hatred from his part, but the woman's story kind of hit home.
He thought about the fact that his father wasn't happy with his birth either, and that it was his mother only who wanted him to be alive.

"Listen." 
Finally, the British jockey broke the silence, still looking away from his rival.
"I don't give a fuck about whoever you are. In the end, it doesn't matter, I'll be the victor anyway."
Even if those weren't the warmest words ever, they were at least somewhat comforting to the heart of the young woman; Diego just wanted to win, just like her, so he couldn't care less about revealing her real identity to anybody.

"So... you won't tell anyone, will you?" asked the woman with her trembling voice.
Diego got closer to his rival and grabbed her chin spitefully.
"I'd have no reason to. And I don't want any useless crazy rumours to start going around as we're sharing a room..."
Y/N blushed at the British jockey's remark and slapped his hand away from her chin.
"Thanks, I guess." she then said sassily, getting up from the bed.
She walked to her rucksack and put her gloves inside of it as she enjoyed sleeping without them; she then took out the sheet that she used to cover herself when she slept in a tent. 
Diego stared at the woman as she lied down on the floor and cuddled up in her "blanket".
He looked at her while she silently closed her eyes and so he realized that she was actually going to sleep on the floor. 
This incredibly talented racer, who had such a mysterious and intriguing persona, was sleeping on the dirty floor.

While preparing to go to sleep, Diego thought some more about his rival: she somehow reminded him of his defunct mother as she, too, wanted to preserve her dignity no matter what and he could very well trace a parallelism between the two. Just as his mom let him eat from her bare hands instead of letting him go as low as eating from a shoe, that woman was so decorous she wouldn't sleep with a man she had no relation to: she didn't give a damn about sleeping on the cold floor as long as she could protect her pride and dignity; and that was something Diego admired.
As he shrugged away these thoughts and went back to thinking about winning the next stage, he finally got into the bed and closed his tired cyan eyes.

The next morning, Y/N got up exceedingly early: it was so early the moon was still timidly shining in the sky.
She walked to the window and saw the sun's shy rays hiding behind the mountains which surrounded the inn at the horizon; the sky's tint was slowly changing, but it still showed a mixture of colors that ranged from the just over night's dark blue to the soft pinkish orange the new born morning brought. 
Y/N opened the window a little and felt the morning's breeze gently caressing her face. She noticed it was pretty chilly outside, but she didn't let the temperature bother her, as she was determined to win the stage that would start on that day.
The woman hastily closed the window as she remembered she wasn't the only one in that room.
She turned her face to see her rival still sleeping tight in the bed.
Y/N got closer to the sleeping jockey and stared at him for a moment or two.
He was lying on his side and, as he didn't have his signature helmet on, strands of his golden hair were spread all over the pillow he was resting his head on; some strands rested on his pale face, which showed an unusual relaxed expression.
The woman slowly raised her delicate gloveless hand towards Diego and moved some of the hair away from his face with a gentle gesture. 
Y/N touched her rival's face briefly, but she felt its skin's softness on her palm: it looked and felt smooth, flawless. Moreover, the British jockey's hair was so silky the woman would've loved to just spend hours brushing it softly.
The woman thought her rival's face looked much better when it wasn't all frowny and the fact that he couldn't talk and show his arrogance and pride made him look much more innocent and calm, too. For a while, she got lost thinking about the fact that maybe that guy was just misunderstood. She heard the worst things about him for the longest time, and he did hurt her more than once; hell, he probably would've murdered her if she didn't move up a little the day before. But some of his actions and words led her to believe that life hadn't been so kind to him. Y/N guessed that the poor guy developed a misanthropic personality as a consequence to childhood trauma and, even if she couldn't excuse his horrible behaviour towards people, she very well understood that there was a cause behind it.

The talented female jockey sighed and went back to thinking about her #1 purpose: winning the Steel Ball Run race. 
She walked to her rucksack, wore her gloves and headed out of the room, ready to depart.