Chapter Text
In absence of her older sister—who claimed to be tired and insisted on taking a nap instead of hanging out with the greatest, most cool girl ever (herself)—Corah Stoll was taking a walk through Camp Half-Blood by herself.
After a few minutes, Corah ended up in front of the Arts & Crafts Center. As usual, she didn't even think about going there, it just happened to be a place she always passes by whenever she rooms around camp grounds. It’s like she’s subconsciously drawn there, although she presented no interest in arts and crafts in general—she knew someone who did. She had no idea why she craved to see them so badly—though it's not like she ever gave it much thought.
She went up the few steps and got close to the door, hearing something falling, followed by footsteps—meaning there was someone inside, and hopefully who she wanted to see.
She pushes the door open and watches as a bun of pale blond hair lifts back up from behind a table.
A girl with slightly fallen glasses glances towards her and straightens up. “Hey, Corah! What brings you here?” Mallorie Pace wore an—once white—apron with her name embroidered on top, over a faded camp shirt and light blue jeans. Her wavy hair was tied up in a bun and loose strands reached her shoulders and fell over her dark glasses.
“Um, I was just passing by and thought you might be in here, so I stopped to say hi,” Corah said as she stepped inside.
“Oh,” Mallorie smiled. “That’s nice. Hi, then. I was just picking up the cloth that I dropped—I accidentally spilled some paint on the table and was trying to get it off before it dries.”
Corah looked down at her stained hands. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just another canvas. Dare brought me some imported paints from his last trip with his parents. I’m just trying it out,” she wiped her hands on her apron—though it didn't do much, the paint didn't transfer in the slightest.
“Wow, can I see it?”
“Hmm…it's not done yet—honestly, might never be,” she began walking towards the sink at the end of the room. “But they're great,” she turned on the tap and started scrubbing her hands together. “And hard to come off.”
Corah smirked, immediately walking up to her. “Wait, really?”
Mallorie gave her a look. “I bet you find this funny, don't you?” Her friend's stupid grin was enough of an answer.
“Why don't you want to finish it, though?” Corah leaned on the sink with her left hand.
“Meh, I’m just not vibing with it, you know? I'm not that hyped, anyways,” Mallorie shrugged.
“Why? I've never seen you start a new painting and not plan to finish it.” Corah raised an eyebrow.
“As if you knew that I liked painting for yeeears and watched me paint every single one of them,” Mallorie rolled her eyes.
“Are you saying that I'm wrong? You told me, dummy.” Corah pushed her glasses up, since Mallorie didn't seem to notice they were falling—somehow.
The blonde mumbled a thanks. “You remember that?”
“Obviously,” Corah tried acting nonchalant.
“Impressive,” Mallorie watched, amused, as a frown formed on Corah's face. “Anyway, there's always a first time for everything, right?” She backed away from the sink and went over to her—empty?—easel.
“What were you trying to paint?” Corah asked, genuinely curious.
Mallorie answered without looking back, “Nothing that cool, I guarantee you. It was, um, pretty much free-form?”
“Huh. Debatable,” Corah looked suspicious. “Can I at least see the paints he brought?”
Mallorie turned to her with a smirk. “Since when are you interested in paints?” She started collecting her brushes and a quite colorful palette.
Since I discovered you like them, Corah thought. “Can I see it or not?”
“Sure. Wanna help me clean these first?” She shook them lightly then started heading back towards the sink.
“No way you're making me do work when I just came to visit,” Corah lazily let her head drop to the side as if she were oh-so-tired, her dark curly hair completely covering her shoulder.
“Well, no one is forcing you to. But will your hands fall if you help me out?” Mallorie teased, now by her side, and looked at her from under her eyelashes.
And that was just not fair to Corah. She was glad her hand was still holding onto the sink, because her knees sure felt weak for a moment.
“Just give me a brush,” Corah extended her right hand and looked at Mallorie's blue, white, brown and beige fingers, avoiding her gaze.
Mallorie smiled. “‘Kay, take these two and I'll deal with the others. I left them in a cup with water so the ink shouldn't be too hard to remove,” she began rubbing the bristles. “—I hope.”
“Hm.” Corah went to the sink beside her and started carefully cleaning the brushes—she didn't comment, but she was hella afraid of damaging one of her friend's brushes. Gods knew what she would do if that happened, Mallorie being overly vain and careful with her stuff and everything.
…
“Okay, all done,” Mallorie announced. “C’mon, let's put them to dry and I'll show you the new paint set.”
Corah followed the blonde till they got to her practically assigned spot, passing by shelves filled with yarn and blocks of clay, and tables with a few pots and blueprint papers over them. Mallorie set her brushes down on a light yellow cloth and signaled Corah to do the same. “Thanks. Now here they are—oop, I left one open, let me close it—” she quickly grabbed a blue tube and a nearby lid.
“Wait, wait, wait, gimme,” Corah interrupted and reached for the tube.
“Hm? Why?” Mallorie asked and handed it to her before hearing an answer.
“I wanna smell it,” she answered simply and brought the paint close to her freckled nose. The daughter of Athena watched it automatically scrunching up and laughed as Corah handed it back to her.
“Eugh, not good, don't recommend. One out of ten.”
“Why would you do that?” Mallorie giggled. “You didn't even check if it's toxic or something.”
“Well, I don't see you wearing a mask, so! I just—assumed, I don't know—to be honest, it didn't even pass through my head until now that you pointed it out. Shut up,” she chuckled and pushed her shoulder lightly.
Mallorie shook her head playfully and started closing the tube, but curiosity took the best of her and she brought the paint close to her own nose and sniffed it. Yep, pretty bad, Corah's review was spot on.
“Well, at least the smell doesn't affect the quality of it,” she said as Corah started chuckling again.
As Mallorie closed the tube and set it on the table, she seemed to catch something moving on the wall—her head turned quickly and her body remained as still as Corah’s ever seen. The Stoll couldn't help but compare the motion to those you could observe in an owl—she found the thought amusing—maybe Mallorie picked it up from spending too much time with the owls that lived in the grove, or maybe that was just a ‘child of Athena thing’, she wouldn't be able to tell, as she'd never really paid much attention to them—until Pace, that is.
Corah was snapped back from her thoughts as Mallorie grabbed her arm and said, “Oh, no, no, no—Corah, kill it,” and rapidly got behind her.
“Huh? Kill what?” Corah asked, confused.
“There,” Mallorie pointed to a brown spot with legs on the wall.
Oh, it was a wolf spider.
Corah looked back at the girl behind her. “It's just a little spider, Mal. It’s harmless.”
“It's enormous! Corah, please just get rid of it,” Mallorie pleaded.
“But it didn't even do anything,” she noted and gestured at the spider. “Would you like it if you were just living your life and a giant came and crushed ya out of nowhere?” Corah wasn’t a fan of spiders herself, but she never understood the crippling fear most girls had of them. At least not of the harmless ones.
“Corah.” Her voice trembled as she said it, making Corah remember a very important detail about children of Athena—the fear they all felt was way worse compared to what most people felt. She got to action.
“Okay, okay. You got a cup or something?” Corah looked around.
“Mhm, over there.” Mallorie pointed to a clay cup on the edge of the table.
“And a paper?” Corah walked over and got the cup. When she turned back Mallorie was already extending a piece of paper towards her—though her eyes remained fixed on the creature on the wall.
She took it and headed over to the spider, quickly trapping it inside the cup and sliding the paper to secure it. “Alright, Imma free it over the window,” Corah said.
“No—! I mean, what if it comes back?” Mallorie interrupted.
Corah sighed. “Fiiine. Open the door for me, then.”
“Of course,” Mallorie hurried to the door and opened it, immediately distancing herself from it as Corah approached.
Corah stepped out and walked until she reached a bush far enough from the Arts & Crafts Center, crouching down and freeing the spider there.
The first thing she heard when she entered the Center again was “Did you free it?”
She showed Mallorie the empty cup, “Yeah, I put it on a bush. Happy?” She rolled her eyes.
Mallorie got closer to her, seemingly embarrassed. Corah instantly felt bad. Before she could apologize, the blonde threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. “Mhm. Thanks, Corah.”
Surprised by the sudden affection, Corah felt her face warm up—gods, what's wrong with me?
She made a small mental effort to be present again and hugged her back, promptly responding, “No problem. And sorry, I know it's not your fault and you don't control it…”
Mallorie pulled back and smiled, not caring to remove her hands from her shoulders. “My brother really did knock some sense into you, huh?”
Corah shuddered at the memory. “Yeah, don't remind me,” she smiled nervously. Her mind was very aware of her own hands still on her friend's waist, and the fact that neither of them really seemed willing to pull away completely.
The daughter of Athena took the moment to better observe the physical details of the girl in front of her, as she would need to remember them if she wanted to finish her new piece.
Her gray eyes scanned over her friend’s dark curls, her light patch of freckles over her nose and the few moles scattered across her face, and finally, her—may she add ‘magnetic’,—upturned sky-blue eyes.
A wave of self-consciousness hit Mallorie as she realized she'd been holding Corah's gaze for a second too long. She fully detached herself from her and looked away, “Well, do you still wanna see the rest of the paint?” She pointed back to the table.
Corah tried to ignore the new awkwardness, “...Yeah! Also I wanna know where the heck did you put your canvas. And what was on it.”
“I'm not showing you that, that's for sure,” Mal said as she began heading back to the spot they were before the whole spider situation.
“Oh, come onnn! Let me see itt,” she wailed behind her. “It can’t be that bad, I'm sure it looks cool, even unfinished.”
“I admire your faith,” Mallorie chuckled, “but I'm not so sure, so no sneak peaks until it's finished, and even that is a maybe.”
“Ugh, why do you do this to me? I just saved you from a horrifying monster, remember? No privilege acquired?” Corah asked, now standing by her side.
“Oh. Sorry, my hero, I'll show it to you immediately, then,” the blonde answered, filled with sarcasm—although part of her did consider her a hero for a moment.
Corah felt herself shying from the compliment, even if Mallorie meant it as a joke, it felt odd—oddly good—to be called that by her. She knew the answer to her question would be no, but she asked it anyway, “Really?”
“No!” She giggled—despite the situation, she sounded sweet as always. Corah automatically grinned.
“Worth the shot,” and shrugged.
The girls spent a few more minutes leaned over the table, checking paint colors and its very specific names. When they were done, Mallorie wanted to clean up the Center, as some kids who were there before seemed to forget to put the things they used back in their own place, leaving the room slightly unorganized—But Corah insisted and convinced her to leave and go hang out outside until it was time for dinner. They kept playfully bumping and pushing each other's shoulder as Corah kept asking and pestering the blonde about her ‘secret’ project—meaning her hidden canvas.
Maybe Mallorie would show it to her one day—she could only hope things would turn out fine between them, then she could proudly and gladly present it to her.