I breathe a sigh of relief when I find my house empty. None of my family is home, which means I won't need to explain Eris' presence. Her group of bodyguards also came with us, though, and are waiting outside now. They're surely going to tell Iker where Eris is at. Our painting session could be cut short at any minute, so we need to be quick for this to work.

There's no way I'm letting her into my room. I usually paint outside in the backyard, so that's where I make her wait while I get painting supplies.

I still can't believe she's here. I'm almost embarrassed—my house is so small compared to hers, and the only reason it's not a mess is because my dad's a bit of an obsessive cleaner.

We sit in the shade of the porch, and Eris takes out a blunt.

"You are not smoking while we paint," I say.

"I always paint when I'm high," she says. "It's my thing."

"Not here. Not now." I've had enough of Fitz getting high all the time, now I need to deal with Eris, too?

"Just two hits!"

And then she lights up.

"Not in my house," I say. I lean forward and take the blunt right out of her hands and put it out on the ground.

"Bitch!" she exclaims. "That was the last of my stash."

"You can have it back once we're done painting."

"Bruh, not even my mother is this uptight."

"Probably because she didn't raise you right."

Eris looks me up and down. "Who the fuck are you to judge how I was raised?"

"Based on what I've seen from your family, there's definitely a lot lacking."

She stands up, attempting to look intimidating while she stares me down. "Am I here to be insulted, or am I here to paint? Pick one."

I look over our supplies. "Let's paint, then." 

The first thing I do is tell her, in detail, everything I have planned for the painting. Since the theme is "light and dark", doing something that works with the contrasts between shadows and light would be an excellent idea. I usually hate Eris' style of landscape paintings, but it could actually work if I add in a touch of the abstract and surreal.

I tell her about my idea: a desert landscape. The sun will be at the top of the painting, and its rays will shine out onto the world. Everything the sun's rays will be light, illuminated, day. Everything in between the rays of sun will be dark, blanketed by the night. It's day and night in one painting, light and dark juxtaposed side by side.

"How about this," Eris interrupts, just as I'm getting to the thematic significance of the painting, one of the most important parts. "We do a self portrait. Half the face is me. Half the face is you. I'm light, you're dark."

"Why do I have to be dark?" I snap. "Because I'm Black?"

"Nah," she drawls. "You're just the yin to my yang."

I burst out laughing—a rare sound coming from me, since as Fitz always says, I'm always so serious. "I'm not the anything to your anything. And why am I the yin? Why am I the evil one?"

She shrugs. "You're Persephone. Queen of the Underworld. It's a given."

"Oh, don't come at me with Greek mythology. I have nothing to do with that myth."

I can't stand the fact my dad named me after a Greek goddess. Not that I have anything against the Greeks, but we have nothing to do with their culture. I would've preferred something more like us. Something West African. Though being Canadians, any connection our ancestors had to West Africa is pretty much lost.

"You know what the Aztec equivalent is?" Eris asks. "Xochiquétzal. The goddess of spring."

"I'm surprised you can pronounce that. And besides, you also have a Greek mythology name. Eris is the goddess of chaos, isn't she?"

She grins, revealing the gap between her front teeth. "Oh yeah. I don't even think my dad realized it at the time. But you know, I would've preferred an Aztec name. Something closer to our culture."

Weird. That's literally what I was just thinking.

"You're descended from the Aztecs?"

"I mean, I don't know. Maybe I would know more if so much of indigenous history hadn't been erased. It pisses me off, you know?"

"Yes," I say. "Yes, I understand." I clear my throat. "Anyway, aren't we supposed to be painting?"

"Right, right. Let's start on the self portrait."

"We're not doing a self portrait. We're doing my idea."

"Your idea sucks."

"Excuse me? You're the one who always paints boring landscapes. This is me trying to make it at least somewhat original and in line with the theme."

"I don't think it's gonna work, Ef."

"Why not?"

"It's gonna come out looking messy."

"Messy? You just say that because you've never done anything abstract."

"Oh believe me, I can do abstract."

"Doing a self-portrait when the theme is light and dark is way too on the nose. And you're not even white."

"I'm white enough," she huffs. 

"Listen," I threaten, getting closer to her, using my height as an advantage to further intimidate her into submission. Her expression doesn't change at all. "We're going with my idea. We have to get this painting done. We can't afford to keep arguing. We need to follow the plan."

She laughs, and I can't stand the sound of it. "The plan I threw out the window? That shit's gone, Ef."

"All I need to do is make another copy."

She backs away from me. "Fine. Fine. You're so fucking stubborn, do you know that? But next time, I'm deciding what to paint."

After she agrees to follow my plan, we decide that she will paint the dark parts of the painting, and I'll paint the light parts. With a fresh, white canvas, I get started on the initial sketch while Eris sits on the grass and looks through her phone. I use a picture of the Californian desert as a reference for sketching the mountains in the distance. I may hate this place, but I don't deny that it has some excellent views at times. And maybe painting it will make me hate it a little less.

"You should be more grateful that I chose to be your partner, you know," Eris says after a while.

I don't respond, trying instead to ignore her voice and focus on the sketch, but it's useless.

"I could be getting ready for a very interesting party right now," she says. "But instead I'm here with you."

"I'm more interesting than any party."

"True," she says. I whirl around to look at her, ignoring the strange jolt in my chest.

"But," she continues. "You should be grateful anyway. Everyone's pissed at me, you know, for choosing you to be my partner. You see the sacrifices I make for you, Ef?"

"If anything, you should be grateful you're working with me," I say.

"Grateful for your uptight ass trying to control everything? Yeah, not really. I'm just doing this because Montoya offered me a sweet deal."

"Oh please, you act as if you don't love having the opportunity to pester me."

This is the most time I've ever spent with her. I've been in her car, watching her drive fast while familiar images flooded my brain. I've gone to her house, gotten a ride back with her brother, and now here she is in my territory. Every minute in her presence grates on my brain. Even her slight movements are annoying, the way she reaches up to scratch her nose or laughs at something as she types away on her phone. Not that I should be staring, anyway.

I eventually finish the sketch and prop the canvas on the easel. "Come on," I say to her. "You're up first. I need to make sure you don't mess it up."

She takes one look at the canvas and frowns. "How the hell am I supposed to paint if you've already done everything? Am I just supposed to color inside your little lines? Give me a break."

"I don't trust you," I say.

"Whatever. I'm doing what I want." She picks up one of my paint pallets, squeezes navy blue paint on it, dips in a random brush, and smashes it on the canvas. I flinch. 

"Please don't do that," I say. "Would it kill you to stick to the plan?"

She stops, sighs, and goes back to painting, but this time actually stays within my guidelines. Good. I don't have the energy to argue with her.

I watch her the entire time, giving her directions when need me. "Bring out the shadows more," I say. "Darken your blues; it doesn't even look like night." She tenses with every word I say, and at first she doesn't argue until she turns around and paints a streak of blue across my face.

"Can you let me work?" she huffs. "You're annoying as hell."

I wipe away the paint with the back of my hand. "This is supposed to be a team effort."

She takes a long, deep breath and resumes the painting without saying anything, but the air is heavy between us. It's cloudy today, so thankfully it's not too hot outside, and it's like even the birds grow quiet in the increasing tension.

Eris constantly switches hands when she paints. One minute she's holding the brush in her right, the next in her left. I don't ask her about it. It's the first time I've noticed. Here I am, watching my biggest competitor in action in her craft. I should be taking notes, calculating her weaknesses, but instead I just watch her quick, thoughtless movements that somehow make the shapes come to life.

After about an hour, she finally finishes. Her parts of the painting look half-decent, and at least she has not strayed much from what I initially envisioned the painting to be. It's a good thing, in a way, since her mediocrity will contrast against the perfection that will be my parts of the painting. The whole contest is about contrasts. This will work.

"Your turn," she says.

"I'd rather work in private."

She tilts her head. "So you have to babysit me while I paint, but you get to work in private?"

"Yes. I'd also rather have your paint dry before going in with the lighter parts of the painting. So you can leave."

"Fine. I paid your admission fee, by the way."

The admission fee. In the midst of all that'd happened in the last few days, I completely forgot about it.

Keeping my voice low, I say, "I didn't ask for your charity."

"Too late."

"How utterly considerate of you, Eris. I'm touched."

She smirks, and it makes me squirm. "You're welcome, pendeja."

At least it's better than Axel calling me princess.

"You can leave now."

She puts down the paintbrush and goes to collect her bag. "I can't believe I have to put up with your controlling bullshit. You better chill out, or this isn't going to work next time. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today. Otherwise, there would've been blood with the way you've been talking to me."

I roll my eyes. "Done with your speech?"

She promptly leaves. The sound of her car revving out of the driveway fills me with relief, and after I take the painting inside I collapse on my bed, exhausted.

▴ ▴ ▴

a/n: this chapter is dedicated to B00kw0rm_101 !! thank you so much for the comments & support, you rock! <3

Xochiquétzal: Aztec goddess of fertility, beauty, love