Percabeth One-Shots All Around!

Paint

A/N: I'M ALIVE! I decided to surprise y'all by posting something on a random day. Enjoy!

        Annabeth was as still as a corpse as she laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the end of summer, and of course her boyfriend of three years just had to break up with her before college started. It was supposed to be the year where they're finally free and officially adults, ready to explore NYC together. But now it'll be a year of awkward avoidances, where they try not to make eye contact and ignore each other when possible.

        Finally, after three hours of useless sulking, Annabeth sat up on her bed and looked around her room. The room that she already rented for college. The room that she rented for them. Annabeth's art supplies were already strewn across the small flat, and on the bare wall was a picture of them. His arm was wrapped around her waist, and his blond hair reflected the sunlight. 

        Then something in Annabeth snapped. She looked at her paint brushes, pallets, and canvases, and was alarmed that she felt scared of them. She was scared because painting did not give you a definite end; it does not warn you beforehand how it will look. Painting was like diving into the unknown, and Annabeth had once bravely stepped in, not caring how anything will turn out as long as he was with her. But now he wasn't, and Annabeth did not want to gamble with the unknown again.

        She slid off the bed and began to gather up her paint brushes and canvases. After forming a pile of her art supplies next to the supply room, Annabeth began to gently put her old friends inside. When all her paints and pallets and canvases were inside, Annabeth stood up and gave one last lingering look at her past passion. Then she closed the door and rested her forehead on it.

        Why did Luke have to leave?

;

        Annabeth walked into her architecture class with her head held high and an aura of confidence. The professor didn't even acknoledge her when she walked in, and her other classmates were scrambling for paper and pencils. Annabeth decided to sit down next to a punk looking girl, and the girl merely gave her a sideways glance. 

        Thanks guys, I feel so welcomed. Annabeth thought.

        Once the lecture started, Annabeth was in the Zone. And yes, with a capital 'z'. She delved into the world of buildings were you can plan what you build and everything can be neat and precise. It's the opposite of painting, and to Annabeth that's a relief.

        But something just had to make the professor stop talking, and Annabeth was back on earth.

        "Young man, skateboards are not allowed in classrooms!" the professor, Mr. Hartford, scolded the boy who had apparently glided into the classroom on his wheeled vehicle. The boy had ruffled black hair, and a confused look on his face.

        "Why do you have buildings and math on your board?" the boy turned to look at the class, as if they had an answer.

        Mr. Hartford rolled his eyes. "This is architecture class. Don't tell me you signed up for this without the knowledge of what architecture is."

        "Oh!" exclaimed the boy. He gave the professor a lopsided grin. "No wonder. I'm looking for the marine biology room."

        Annabeth already disliked the boy. First, he just barges into the classroom, wasting Annabeth's time. Second, he's probably the most immature being on campus, and thirdly, he was unpredictable. The thought made Annabeth shudder.

        The boy gave a salute to Mr. Hartford and glided out of the classroom.

;

        It was New Years Eve. Turns out the punk girl that sat next to Annabeth in architecture class actually tolerated Annabeth, and asked her to go to Central Park with her friends. Thalia, the punk girl, said to meet her at Central Park at around 10 o'clock.