Katya's blue eyes glittered with amusement as Charlotte made the connection between the redhead's words words and her wardrobe choice. She laughed softly enjoying the bright blush that colored her tutor's pretty face. She twirled a paintbrush between her slender fingers, a confident smile smile on her lips as she listened to the torrent of words from the other girl.

"You mean you weren't giving me a little show?" Katya asked, pouting with exaggerated disappointment and batting her eyelashes as she flashed Charlotte the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. "And I thought you liked me..."

She dropped the act quickly, adopting her usual straight, confident posture once more. Charlotte's flustered, sheepish attitude did much to dispel Katya's worries about power struggles. It wasn't inconceivable, after all, that the blond had honestly not known she'd been showing off her taboo undergarments - girls were "accidentally" given ill-fitting uniforms so often that it was odd no one suspected anything. If Charlotte wasn't as skilled a manipulator as Katya had originally thought, it shouldn't be too hard to stay in control.

"Well I can't be held responsible for the consequences of your wardrobe violations." Katya said, reaching across the table to delicately lift the figure of the Knights and Nymph and set it on the old, worn wood before her. "You'd better stop tempting me though. I'm very good about keeping promises, but I don't know how long I'll be able to behave myself if you don't quit making it so easy to be bad."

Katya craned her neck to glance back at the sudden flurry of activity outside their little peaceful sanctuary. It was a little humorous, seeing the peaceful instructor trying to deal with the irritable painters and drawing students, but the collusion in their own corner was of considerably more interest to her, so she turned around once again. She swept her long red locks back behind her shoulder with a sweep of her hand, before setting her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers together as she leaned forward. "So, what do you have to teach me Miss....You know, you still haven't told me your last name, have you?"

Katya's brush moved with acute precision as she worked under Charlotte's critical gaze. It had been quite a while since Katya had been expected to prove herself to anyone when it came to art, but rather than the nervous trial most students would have seen it as, the competitive Head Girl took it as a challenge. The first few test tiles acquainted her with the with the strange, foreign properties of the glaze. The application process looked almost the same, but the liquids were much thicker than water colors, but still thinner than the gel-like oil and acrylic paints she was accustomed to working with.

By the time Charlotte saw fit to let her at the statuette, Katya was feeling infinitely more confident than she had at the start of class. She went to work quickly but carefully, a look of intense concentration settling over her lovely features. She worked diligently, with almost obsessive care, handling the figurine as if it were a priceless masterpiece.

Katya's whole body went stiff as the lithe blond took up her place behind the Russian. She bristled with irritation for a moment at the sudden invasion of her personal space, but the tactile pleasure of the girl's soft, supple body against hers quickly dispelled her indignation. She submissively let Charlotte guide her hand, practically marionette like as her attention was divided between the lesson and her tutor's body. As their brush delicately colored the Nymph's naked body Katya's mind couldn't help but wander, imagining her hands mirroring the touches on Charlotte's body.

The usually unshakable Head Girl jumped noticeably as the bell rang, violently shaking her out of her fantasy. She stood, taking a moment to smooth out a few non-existant wrinkles from her uniform and clear her head before she turned to face Charlotte.

"Well, that was relatively painless." She said, a crooked grin flashing across her face. Her eyes flitted over to the statue and she resisted the urge to scowl at the odd, clashing colors that covered the Nymph and her aggressors. She was dubious as to whether the hideous colors scheme would truly transform according to Charlotte's trusty guide book when placed back in the kiln, but she would have to wait until the next class session to find out. She helped put away supplies returning the glazes to the box Charlotte had brought them out in and carefully washing out their brushes as the rest of the class moved bowls and sculptures to empty drying shelves and returned excess clay to the supply room.

Katya turned to face Charlotte when she was finished, reaching behind her back to untie her apron. Her ample breasts pushed forward, straining against her crisp white shirt for a moment but she gave no indication that she noticed. She retrieved her messenger bag and ran her fingers through her long red hair before finally speaking again.

"So, if you're still interested in our little trade, my studio's in room 803." She offered, the smile on her face and gleam in her eye speaking novels more than what she had actually said. Without another word she turned, short skirt flaring out just slightly, and sauntered off towards the door without waiting for a response.

Shock delayed Katya's reaction for a moment. After having a surprisingly pleasant class and completely failing to get a sure read on the enigmatic Charlotte she was already far more off balance than she had been in ages. When the hand grasped her slender wrist and roughly spun her around the bewildered girl all but cried out in shock. There was a look of dumfounded confusion on her face that was completely contrary to her normal confident, collected demeanor.

She collected herself quickly though, and her features quickly reverted back to their usually dangerously calm expression. Katya curtly wrenched her arm from the other girl's grasp narrowing her own blue eyes in response as she listened to her peer's accusations in silence.

"So what, you wish for me to join you in your pointless little temper tantrums?" She snapped, a sharp edge to her already commanding voice. "Yes, I did oppose this pointless distraction from our real studies and yes, I still believe this to be a massive waste of our collective time, but, Evelyn, we are stuck here whether we like it or not..."

Her accent was far more noticeable than usual, and it took all her effort to keep from shouting at the poor girl who was wilting visibly under her sharp tongue. "Perhaps, instead of mimicking grammar school children next session the rest of you would care to-" Katya stopped mid-sentence as she spotted the girl with the violently bright hair approaching out of the corner of her eye.

The anger faded from her delicate features by the time the sculptor reached them, and she quirked one slender red eyebrow and Evelyn and Jean spoke, careful not to show any particular interest in the mysterious blonde or these new revelations.

Before she knew it, Katya was alone in the long, florescent-lit hallway. As the last of the mixed lot of girls disappeared out the large double doors at the end of the hallway she spun away and toward the opposite staircase, resisting the urge to look back into the damp, dusty classroom to see if Charlotte was still there.

After a few minutes climbing up empty stair wells and sweeping down all but abandoned hallways Katya reached the small cluster of individual studios on the top floor of the building. She unlocked the door on the end and slipped inside, closing the door behind her but leaving it unlocked.

The space was cluttered, but a tidy kind of cluttered that resulted from lack of storage space, not organization. Canvases and wooden planks of vastly varying sizes were stacked against every blank wall space, and a few select pieces hung above them. A set of shelves in the back held what looked to be hundreds of tubes, jars and bottles filled with every paint imaginable, as well as raw pigments and an impressive selection of mediums and oils and a small army of brushes.

A low platform stood near one end of the room, just large enough for a model to comfortably lie on, and near it stood an empty easel. The room's easily most impressive feature though, was a massive window taking up most of the western wall. Katya let her pack fall to the floor as she walked over to it and languidly leaned against the sill as she watched scattered streams of students moving along the campus sidewalks below and the distant glitter of the beach beyond.