For OQ Prompt Party day 7 - #182 - Regina is an artist, Robin is life model who poses nude for each of her life drawing classes.
Taken this prompt in a slightly different direction than the original, but it's still in the same spirit!
This is for Beth, who I promised this to! Thank you, as ever, to Lindsay for the beta (and all your comments about Graham...)
Mary Margaret is, quite honestly, fed up with Regina's attitude to life. She'd broken up with Graham three months previously, and where he had moved on rather quickly (as in his relationship status had changed on Facebook the week after the split and Regina had thrown her phone at the wall), Regina was still, well, moping. Not even about the fact she'd broken up with Graham, but at the fact that another relationship had, yet again, failed for her.
"Well, what do you know?" Regina had levelled at Mary Margaret one afternoon after she'd given Regina one of her insufferable hope speeches. "You've found your 'true love'." She punctuates the phrase with air quotes and a not-so-subtle roll of the eyes.
Mary Margaret just smiles and, as usual, that just riles Regina even more. "I think I should know then, huh? Come on. All you do is go to work, come home, go to work, come home… with an occasional interlude with me to tell me how much love sucks and that Graham is an asshole." Regina glares at that. "Which he is," she adds quickly, "but you need to take your mind off it."
"I am," she replies, waving the bottle of prosecco in her hand, but Mary Margaret just shakes her head.
"I don't mean like that," she sighs, grabbing her phone. "Maybe an activity to make you think about something else other than Graham." Mary Margaret starts to scroll through Storybrooke town hall's website, scanning the weekly activities board, focusing so she can block out Regina's whines about how she's never dating another person ever again because it's just not worth it. "Aha!"
Regina stops mid-sentence, regarding her friend with a raised brow. "What..?"
"A life drawing class."
Regina's glad she'd just swallowed her wine, for she knows for a fact she would have spat it out had her friend said it a couple of seconds earlier. "A life drawing class? Are you serious?"
"Yes!" She nods. "Yes, perfect for beginners and true artists alike," she reads, "everyone is welcome to enjoy a new hobby and perhaps make a new friend."
"Ugh," the brunette groans as she shakes her head. "No way. I can barely hold a paintbrush, let alone paint."
"You can hold a pencil though," Mary Margaret replies almost too sweetly.
Regina rolls her eyes. "I cannot draw, Mary Margaret." Regina Mills never does anything she's bad at.
"How do you even know?" Mary Margaret raises a brow, "let me guess? Cora told you your drawing of your pet kitten was awful and you've never tried again."
It's scary how accurate that is. "It was a dog." And Mary Margaret looks smug as hell. "Fine. Fine, I'll come. Anything to wipe that look off your face."
The pixie-haired woman slaps her hands down on her thighs and stands. "Thursday, 7pm. You better be there, Gina, or I'll be dragging you to singles' yoga."
Thursday had been a pretty awful day work-wise. Regina had been in meetings back-to-back and by 3pm, she not only hated the sound of her own voice, but was also starting to develop a killer migraine. She considers calling Mary Margaret and asking for a raincheck, but the mere thought of singles' yoga has her putting her cell back on the table, tapping her nails as she goes, when her phone chimes.
I know what you're thinking Regina, and I'm not kidding. Life drawing with me, your friend, or yoga, alone, amongst all the guys that you would never date, but would kill to date you. See you at 7!
The audacity of this bitch. Migraine or not, she's going to prove her wrong. She's gonna turn up and be a natural.
Or something.
"Honestly," Mary Margaret sighs as the two of them take their places in front of an easel, "I thought you'd bail."
"I'm here," Regina grits out in return, picking up her pencil and turning it over in her hands, pretending to inspect the object.
Mary Margaret goes to reply, only to be interrupted by the pretty brunette in front of them clapping her hands together and clearing her throat.
"Thank you all for coming this evening," she greets. "My name is Belle French and I will be your instructor for the evening." Her Australian lilt is unexpected and has Regina raising her brow, but she finds she gets used to it quickly as Belle continues to explain how the evening is going to go - she'll give a bit of background, before introducing their model for the evening and letting their imaginations run riot.
Pretty run-of-the-mill stuff, Regina thinks as she listens to Belle's spiel about using granite as an outline before moving to acrylic (but only if you feel confident, Belle adds - she emphasises time and time again the fact that this is all a personal thing and that everyone's goals will be different). That doesn't seem too tough. She glances at Mary Margaret, nodding along with everything the instructor says and shakes her head herself. Ever the teacher's pet.
"Okay, I'm going to introduce our model for this evening." Belle beckons a man forward then, bare footed and dressed in a dark blue robe. "This is Robin."
Regina almost drops her pencil at the sight of his crystal blue eyes. Damn. Her mouth has dropped open, eyes wide and she can hear Mary Margaret giggle beside her, but she all but blocks it out.
When he whips his head to greet the attendees, Regina tears her eyes away. She stares at her easel and sighs. Well, it couldn't get any worse, right? He's attractive but at least he's just posing.
Wrong. Things could, indeed, get worse. Worse in the sense of oh shit, he's undoing his robe and it's gaping open and oh no… no, the robe is slipping off his shoulders and… yup. There he is. Completely naked. As naked as the day he was born.
Regina squirms a little (his ass is just as well defined as the rest of him) and Robin's gaze catches hers. He gives her a little smirk before he gets into place upon the pillows. After some adjusting, he finds the most comfortable position, which is just to Regina's left. Great. He's all toned and… handsome, his body almost god-like…
She really needs to get laid.
She turns to Mary Margaret with a murderous look on her face. "You didn't tell me the models would be nude!"
"What did you expect?" She whispers back. "Life drawing!"
"Yes, but can't life have his clothes on?" She hisses. It only serves as an excuse for Mary Margaret's smile to grow wider.
"You like him don't you!" she goads. "Not that I can blame you. He's kinda cute, huh?"
Regina sniffs at that. "I do not." She sounds like an angry toddler and she knows it. "How can I like someone I don't even know?"
"Hey, you can like someone at first glance," she shrugs, turning her head to sketch some basic shapes. "Doesn't need to be true love." She punctuates the phrase with air quotes and Regina simply rolls her eyes.
Fuck, she hates drawing. This damn thing looks more like a blob with arms than a person sitting pensively upon a throne of cushions. Regina Mills doesn't like to be less than the best at things. Art included. Exasperated, she puts her pencil down, but it's more of a slam, piquing the attention of the one person she's been trying to ignore for the past hour.
"Not a natural?" He - Robin - asks, fingers tapping along his bare thigh.
"I'm sorry, are you meant to talk?" Regina bites back, looking at everything but him.
"Oh, you're asking me if the subject is meant to communicate. Well, it's a kind question, milady, to which the answer is if they wish. Gets a bit boring otherwise."
God, couldn't Mary Margaret have dragged her to a museum to sketch an inanimate object rather than an actual living, talking, irritating human being? She's not even really sure why he's bugging her when he's hardly bad to look at - she wanted to just attend tonight, remind herself that art really isn't her forte and go home to her empty bed. Instead, she's being sassed by a man she's known for ten seconds, yet she's already seen in the buff.
"Would help if you didn't grip the pencil so hard." Whilst knee deep in her thoughts, Regina's grabbed the pencil again and made a fist around it. She loosens her grip and places the pencil back down. "Hold it like you'd normally when you write and just let the pencil guide you."
It sounds so hippy dippy that she almost scoffs, but instead, she gives it a go. She finds it oh so easy to forget her troubles when she's so focused on a sketch, of an attractive man no less and sure, it's not her best work, but all the best artists have to start somewhere…
"I guess it's working," Robin says, snapping Regina out of her trance. She huffs, looking up at him.
"Yes. Well, it was, until you interrupted me." She glares at him - though it holds no heat - and goes back to her drawing.
"Bet you're a natural," he teases and then does Regina scoff.
"Bet you're a goddamn distraction," she tries back and he raises a brow.
"It's working, isn't it?"
"Yes," she sighs, though she loathes to admit it. "Can you hold your tongue for five minutes to let me finish this section at least?"
He acquiesces then, Regina noticing how he makes a discreet glance at the clock and is in no doubt that he will absolutely start talking again in five minutes time.
He does. He talks to Mary Margaret and many of the other attendees too, but he seems to focus a lot of his attention on Regina, giving her soft encouragement and a little tease here and there. Mary Margaret gives her friend a knowing glance when she happens to look in her direction and she doesn't want to hear it, how her oldest friend just knew she'd have a great time tonight.
The end of the lesson comes sooner than Regina would have liked and she's surprised to see that she has a somewhat finished piece that looks more human than humanoid, sketched and even painted somewhat. Robin's required to put his robe back on as he stands and Regina can't ignore the tiny frisson of disappointment she feels at the loss of the sight of his skin.
She guesses that that's it then. He's nowhere in sight and without even a goodbye, despite their minor flirtation all evening. Regina shakes her head and has a right mind to screw up this sheet of paper the moment she gets home, lest it remind her constantly of this model who let her think, even though it's unfair on her part, that things could move on.
Except…
"Hey, you can tell that's me." Regina turns to find Robin behind her, back in his robe. "Sort of. If you squint and turn your head, maybe then squint some more…"
If she knew him better, she'd nudge him. Instead she rolls her eyes and snatches the paper from the easel. "It's a work in progress."
He hums at that. "So, will you also be around next week, milady?"
"Regina," she corrects and he parrots her name back. "Depends," she shrugs, "not if you're here." She says it with a smile, one he returns.
"Next week is a female model, I think, so unless you're planning on volunteering…" she puts her hands up at that, "... then unlikely. Though, it's been a while since I've done any life drawing myself so maybe I could be persuaded…"
She taps her pencil against her lips as she feigns consideration (and damn, he can't stop watching her mouth - she knows it). "It's a maybe. Depending on work."
Robin nods, grabs the masterpiece she holds in her hands (not without a hey! from her) and turns it over, taking the pencil she'd been holding and scribbling something on the back.
"What's this?" She asks as she takes it back, though she knows exactly what it is.
"My number. So you can let me know whether that maybe turns into a yes or a no."
He's smooth, she'll give him that. "Hmm, alright." She looks at him. "Though if you do attend, I'm not sure I'd see you."
He frowns. "Why's that?"
She pockets the paper then, starting to walk away, but not without a teasing look over her shoulder. "Don't think I'd recognise you with your clothes on."