fandomhigh | Blank Page Art Club, Art Room, Monday After Classes

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!club: art

Blank Page Art Club, Art Room, Monday After Classes

There was the usual array of drawing supplies and some Plasticine left over from last week on a table at the side, but that didn't seem to be Claire's focus this week.

"Hey," she greeted. "So, call this a planning session. We only have a couple weeks left in the semester and if we want to do a show or something, we need to figure out where and when and make stuff for it, and, like, decide if we should do a theme or anything. Anybody got ideas? I was going to ask Miss York if we could do it at the gallery, but the school's a castle. We might have space here."

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Claire gave him an amused, scolding look. "... okay, if you call that my actual gift I get the right to be a bitch."

She reached out to poke at the crab, as if petting its sole claw. Poor crab.

Cal frowned. "Aww, you'll make Larry sad, Claire, talking like that. I'd paint him for you, you know, once he dries."

"Larry?" Claire laughed. "Except, you're gonna hurt his feelings now, implying he's not perfect the color he is."

Cal leaned in, toward Claire's ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I don't know if you noticed," he said, nicely making it seem like he just didn't want Larry to hear while mostly using it as an excuse to whisper in his ear, "but he's already only got one claw. He's already going to be ostracized. Let's not make it harder on him, hm?"

Claire pitched her voice lower to match his, enjoying the warmth of his voice against her ear. "So you think putting paint on him will help?" she asked dubiously.

"It certainly can't hurt," Cal whispered back. "But I'll ask him. See what he wants."

"Do that," Claire encouraged softly and in all apparent seriousness. "Be the crab whisperer."

"I'm not entirely sure what that means," Cal admitted with a faint laugh, before nodding a little, returning the solemnity of the situation, "but I will."

"It's a dumb movie about a guy who talks to horses," Claire explained, then sat back to wait for Cal to commune with Larry.

"That does sound dumb," Cal admitted and then looked at Claire as she settled back. He lifted an eyebrow.

"He's not going to open up to me with you just sitting there listening, you know."

Claire huffed, but she was biting back a grin as she stood and went to start putting away the supplies. "You stay here and bond with Larry."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Cal laughed, half expecting that, and reaching out to grab the tail of Claire's shirt and pull her back. "I'll have plenty of bonding time with Larry later."

"You sure?" Claire asked, letting herself be yanked. "I don't want to interrupt your special time with your one-clawed crab."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Cal said, trying to pull Claire into his lap and hoping he wasn't totally ungraceful about it in a way that would make it all awkward or potentially painful.

Her foot got a little tangled in his leg because she was so very much not expecting that, and she felt like she weighed about 300 pounds, but she got settled without too much awkwardness or pain.

"I feel like I'm gonna break you."

... except that.

"It'd be worth it."

Because the fact that there was a girl in lap and red hair in his face was more than enough to override common decency senses to go for a better answer than that.

Claire just looked at him, wondering if he had any idea what he had just said. She wasn't usually all girly, but that didn't mean she didn't want him to at least argue the point.

"...What?"

Apparently not.

Then again, this was the guy who continually told his stick of an exgirlfriend how fat her ass was.

She sighed (ha) hugely. "Nothing. Just, when a girl says something makes her feel fat ..."

He'd been a girl. Did he really need her to finish that sentence?

Just in case: "Argue with her."

He had been a girl, yes, but he'd also been a walking stick.

Still kind of was.

"Oh," he said, and then it dawned on him, arriving late from the fight through the jungle of long red hair. "Ohhhh, right." He couldn't help a small chuckle. "Come on, it could have been worse. I could have screamed out in pain and declared that the chair was about to break."

He did have some brains, though, so he wrapped his arms around Claire's waist and kissed her shoulder. "Not that it matters, anyway, because you're not fat."

"Thank you," she said, greatly mollified, and turned to kiss his forehead. "I appreciate having my ego fed."

No fat jokes intended.

Cal gave a dopey little smile, leaning up to give her a kiss back, wherever he could manage to land one. "You're welcome. You're awesome, and you know it, and, if you don't, well, then you're stupid."

So good with the compliments.

That smile went right down to her toes.

"You are prettyawesome yourself," she told him, snuggling in against him. The rest of the club was forgotten.

That was okay; the meeting was practically over, anyway. And, if not, it probably would be soon, because no one wanted to deal with schmoopy snuggling couples. Cal knew he didn't. Unless he was a part of it, in which case he couldn't help thinking it was pretty much the greatest thing ever.

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Blank Page Art Club, Art Room, Monday After Classes

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