icarus

ii. painstakingly

Mother usually has a lot of things to say about Yara any time they meet. Be it critical, or insults wrapped in sugary lies of bettering her character as it usually is. It definitely would've been strange to imagine if she hadn't had 9 missed calls from Mother by the time Yara's done with her bath. She glances at the screen seeing another call enter, and she sighs before sitting on her bed and holding the phone loosely.

Yara leisurely slips on a silk bathrobe, before heading to the terrace of her room. The moon shakes drunkenly on the surface of the pool and she swipes to answer the call.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd assume you're calling this much because you are worried about me or you hope I've gotten home safely. But how may I be of service to you, Mother?"

Her voice is cold and toneless. "Your stepsister didn't mean it. She's jealous and doesn't know how to handle it but it won't happen again." A chill brushes against her exposed collarbone and she makes no move to cover it.

Yara's smile is rueful. Then she hums in somewhat agreement. "Right."

"She hasn't had a mother for most of her life. I plan on fulfilling that role and loving her. I'm happy here Yara, they aren't like you..." Mother pauses as if she realizes that she has said something wrong. "They love me." She whispers.

Zane catches her eye as he walks on the bank of the pool with their father. Father blows her a kiss and she catches it. Zane blows her one as well and she waves it away. They laugh as she sits on the balcony chair, pushing them out of her sight, cupping her chin with her hand.

"Isn't your perspective on what love is as skewed as mine, oh dearest mother?" Yara says, her eyes cold. "They use you, and you know it."

Mother is silent. "They love me."

"Perhaps if you say it enough, it'll actually be true. Goodnight Mother." She replies, the mocking smile playing on her lips dying down. Mother and her family are such a hassle.

**************

Given the context of their conversation yesterday, it would've been a surprise to hear that Mother, her husband, Kira and Thomas are in her home but Yara is prepared and walks in leisurely to her father's office and there he stands, his tall frame clad in black lounge wear picking a book from his massive shelf. His secretary sits on his desk, her legs bound by a tight skirt crossed, her eyes flitting over the older man's figure. Her cheeks pink and her eyes following his every move in sickening adoration. The light from the massive windows are blinding, and Yara can feel her eyes burn.

"If I'm interrupting something, good." Yara announces, and the secretary blanches, standing up abruptly as Father waves his hand indicating she should leave but Yara holds her wrist. "I also wouldn't go downstairs through the living room if I were you, there's a woman out there who would fly in a terrible rage if she sees you."

Her father interrupts, handing her a thick folder "I think we're done here. You can leave through the backdoor." He orders, not even sparing her a glance. Her face flames and she leaves almost immediately, the thick stench of shame following behind her. Yara smiles indifferently, sat on her father's chair, her eyes glancing to her hands and the writing on it. The older man clears his throat and starts awkwardly, still not looking at her. "Your mother..."

"Mmm. What about her?"

The older man is silent, then. "...Is she happy?"

"It's always so hard to tell with mother, don't you think?" Yara asks, as she crosses her legs. "Even if she isn't, she wouldn't say anything, especially not to me, and you know it so why ask? Or is this the prelude to another question?"