icarus

x. consent

There's a gift in Yara's locker, amongst the many others. It's a ring, rose gold clasp and a pink diamond that glints in the light and winks at her. She cocks her head to the side, and pushes the ring back into the dark box with the Chopard logo. There's also a note. Pretty ring for a pretty girl. She snorts. Perfunctory at best. Yara pushes the box back into her locker and shuts the door.

Vivienne asks from her side. "Who made you mad?"

"Men." Yara answers with a groan.

She giggles, linking arms with the dark skinned girl. "Ooh, I like those. What did they do to make you so mad?" Yara silently passes her the note, and she reads it before bursting into pleasant laughter. "Secret admirer? Who do you think it is?" Yara has an idea, and her idea has dirty blonde hair, and is looking her over with his swamp green eyes.

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I'm gonna go now. See you after school?" Vivienne nods. She's used to Yara disappearing every one in a while. Yara blows her a kiss and walks down the hallway to the elevator. Tanner joins her and opens the elevator and gestures for her to walk in. She smiles at him, even though her eyes are rolling behind his back.

"Did you get my gift?"

Yara waves a hand in dismissal. "I get a ton of gifts everyday. Which one is yours?" Tanner's jaw clenches, and his fingers brush his jaw as he smiles at her.

"I meant the ring." Yara opens her mouth, to probably lie that she's got many rings in her locker that she wouldn't know which is his, but he interrupts her again. "The Chopard ring, darling. Do you like it?"

She nods, her smile faker than his. "Yes, it's truly beautiful. Thank you, Tanner."

"You're always so cold towards me Yara. Have I done something wrong?" He shuffles to her side, and his elbows brush hers playfully. Yara inhales sharply and fights the urge to move away from him. "I thought that perhaps the fact that we're of the same mould make you more accepting of me, but it seems I'm wrong."

Yara isn't looking at him. She glances at her nails, ignoring the way she can smell his cologne. "I'm nice to you."

"You're civil with me." His voice floats over her head, laced with unseen amusement. "I wonder if it's because I've done something wrong, or if it's the fact that I'm not Atlas." Her breathing pauses, and she looks up at him, wanting nothing more than to slap him across the face.

She leans back, on the walls, and stares at him. "Elaborate."

"You treat him better than me. You kiss him, and it's like you don't even notice how crazy you drive me." He whispers, grabbing her chin and pulling her closer. "Wasn't this how you held him? If I leaned in, would you kiss me?"

Yara narrows her eyes. "If you kissed me, I'd make sure that you can't produce children naturally." He freezes, and laughs. "And I didn't kiss Atlas of free will, it was a dare and I wouldn't have kissed him if he didn't want me to."

"But you liked it." He says, freeing her chin and stepping back from her.

She shrugs. "He's a good kisser."

"I'm sure I'm better."

Yara hums, and the elevator stops at his floor and he steps out. She waves at his smirking figure. "I doubt it, but I guess we'll never know. Bye, darling." The doors close before she can see his expression but she can see his crown slip even further. "Ass." The elevator dings when she get to her floor. Yara pulls out her keys and opens the door to a room. She breathes in the air that smells of paint and cleaning supplies.

Her paintings line the wall and are haphazardly leaning against other painting supplies as well. Yara brings out a speaker, and connects it to her phone. Instrumental music begins, a grin spreads across her face and her bag falls to the ground.

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

It's almost two hours later. There's a knock on the door and Yara glances down at what she's wearing, a cropped shirt and overalls. Paint is all over her hands, her forearms and a quick glance at the large mirror on the side of her studio reveals blue paint on her forehead. She stills, hoping the person on the other side would get the message and leave.

"Yara, it's me." Atlas. She pauses, and sighs. She slips behind the door, firmly locking it behind her. He is playing with his lighter, again. Continuously flicking the cap, the obsidian in his nails glossy. She swallows softly, and lifts her head to see him already staring at her. "You're covered in paint." He says, thumbing her forehead and rubbing the dried paint off. The trail and patterns he leaves on her cheeks are hot, and she wonders if he can hear the way her heart is pounding. His mismatched eyes are staring at her, relaxed and ambiguous.

She lifts her shoulders in relaxed nonchalance. "Comes with the job."

Atlas chuckles, and discreetly, but not really discreetly, looks her over. Her skin is hot, and her ears are heated. He pushes his hand in his pockets.

"How did you know I'm here?" He looks at her pointedly, as if he can't believe she's asking him that. "Scratch that, what are you doing here?"

"Would you believe if I said I missed you?"

"Absolutely not." She deadpans. "So what exactly are you doing here?" He laughs softly, and turns to look at the door as if he'll see what's behind it.

Atlas nudges her with his shoulder. "I came to ask you again, if you're going to consider my father's painting."

"And my payment is..."

He leans against the wall, helping her lift one braid off her paint covered forehead and off her shoulders. "Here, lemme help with that." Atlas walks behind her, to rearrange her hair with a claw clip. He's very close to her, as if she pushes, just a little, she'll able to feel all of his chest. Yara clears her throat and he briskly walks to the position he was before. "Right, I will pay three times the price of your most expensive painting." Her eyes widen slightly, and then she remembers that Atlas is a Harding, and his family could buy every painting she's ever done.

"I'll need a picture as well as any inspiration or any writing you want on it." The paint on her fingers are chipping. "And you can pay me the same amount as my second."

His eyes flit to the way her hands are scratching at the chipped paint, and her palms sweat. Atlas's eyes are dangerous. "A discount. Whatever did I do to deserve it?"

"I feel like I'd be taking advantage of you if I took your initial offer."

Atlas raises an eyebrow, his torso pushed out as he leans against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. "Aren't we way past you taking advantage of me?" Yara's mouth falls open.

"I remember asking for consent, and I remember you agreeing, and kissing me back?"

"But who's hands were basically on my throat?"

Yara's lips curl. "And who liked it?" He groans and walks away, and she has no doubt that Atlas is blushing. "Bye Atlas." She giggles, and he flips her off, strolling into the elevator.