Camp Half-Blood: A Salty Christmas

Flour and Mistletoe

There were many things that Benjamin Pierce had wanted to do on Christmas Eve, and he'd only just begun now. At the moment he was standing on a wobbly chair in the doorway of the Poseidon cabin, a clump of mistletoe held in his teeth while he fastened a hook in the doorway. He had to admit, he'd never been an expert with tools, but after around ten minutes of struggling, he was finally almost done with his first task.

"Ben?" A familiar voice caught him off guard and caused the chair to shake. He let out a startled "Hrmph!" and grabbed onto the door frame for support. Behind him stood Rose with her hands on her hips. An expression caught between amusement and annoyance rested on her face. A flustered blush burned at the tips of his ears and crept down to his cheeks.

He jumped down from the chair and took the mistletoe out of his mouth, kind of wishing he could sink into the earth and vanish. "Princess! I- uh..." He scuffed his sneaker on the ground anxiously. Rose looked from the chair, to the drill, to the mistletoe and instantly put the situation together.

"You do realize the door can't close with a hook at the top?" She stepped forward and took the mistletoe from his hand, examining it for a moment. "Fix my door." Rose tucked the mistletoe behind Ben's ear. She leaned forward and lightly kissed him on the lips before walking past him and into her room without another word, leaving the boy to stammer for a proper reply behind her.

After another ten minutes of Ben figuring out how to remove screws with a drill, the job was done. The mistletoe was now tucked away safely in his pocket in case the opportunity arose, and Ben was ready to move onto his second task. But now he faced a problem, since he thought Rose was going to be wrapping presents all day. But this was because wrapping, for him, was an all day event with the help of several siblings.

"Where are you going next?" Rose had peaked out of her room curiously. Ben felt his heart swell a bit as he noticed she was in one of his sweatshirts.

"Making cake for tonight." He mumbled, slightly embarrassed. He had been hoping to have this all done by the time she returned.

To his surprise, Rose perked up. "Can I come? I like to bake." She stretched, already throwing on a pair of sneakers.

"Yeah! Of course!" Ben waited patiently by the door. Everyday, he learned a little more about Rose. Yesterday he found out she liked the color mint green. He supposed it made sense. Mint looked soft, but it's sharp taste could stun anyone. The soft pastel green was the small color of the safety blanket he carried around when he was little. A blanket he trusted to protect him from the made up monsters under his bed, long before he realized the real ones were outside his window. But most of all, mint stings before it softens. It's overwhelming at first. It burns and makes your eyes water, but then it quells. The air seems cleaner after mint, like every breath is your first and you don't quite want to let it go.

"Hey, Sir Benjamin III?" Ben snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of his ridiculous nickname.

"Sorry, what?" He looked over at Rose, who was now right next to him. Her eyes were narrowed with concern. He avoided eye contact and fidgeted with one of his sweatshirt strings. Rose has always had the uncanny ability to siphon the truth out of him. She had all his nervous ticks memorized, and knew he had a weakness for eye contact. If Ben were being honest, he could spend days looking at Rose's eyes. Always so determined, yet uncertain. Bold and afraid. The contradictions drove him insane.

"You, alright?" Rose reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, drawing his eyes to hers. He reached up his hand to cover hers, squeezing it softly. He knew he didn't have the right words to say what he wanted to. So, with his head still reeling from an onslaught of memories, he smiled faintly.

"I love you, Princess." The phrase felt lame in his mouth. It had been said too many times, and part of him worried that it lost meaning to her. But Rose had the ability to render him speechless, and he doubted he'd ever fully recover from it.

"I love you too, Ben. But are you okay?" Rose lightly squeeze his hand back, forcing him into the present.

"Just tired. Think I'm spacing out a little. Ready to go?" He loosened his grip on Rose's hand, but was silently relieved when she didn't let go. There was a hesitant pause, where Rose tilted Ben's face downwards to get a better look at him. He knew she was trying to make him spill something else, but he wasn't hiding anything this time. After a moment she spoke up.

"Alright, but after you're getting some rest." The two walked towards the kitchens in a peaceful silence. Ben fished out the instructions and ingredients. The process went smoothly until a slight mishap occurred. Ben dropped a cup of flour, spreading it all over the floor, and all over both himself and Rose. He ran his hands nervously through his hair, silently cursing himself out.

"Uh... sorry?" He had enough sense to scramble backwards when Rose turned around. Ben was, however, very confused when she started laughing at him. "What?" He threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Why don't you look in the mirror, old man?" Rose's laughter put a bright smile on Ben's face, even though he knew it was at his expense.

"I'm not even sure I wanna look." He sighed, unable to hide his smile as he walked over to a mirror on a nearby wall. Sure enough, his nervous tick had gotten streaks of white flour mixed in with his hair. "All I need is the beard and hat now." He grumbled, staring at his reflection.

"I can help with that!" Ben turned around in surprise. Rose walked up to him, forcing him to bend down a little by pulling on his arm. Poor Ben, who was expecting a kiss, got flower smeared over his cheeks and chin instead. "You match now." She said smugly, holding back another fit of laughter.

"If I'm Santa, then that makes you Mrs. Claus." Ben dashed over to the open bag, almost slipping on the flour that spilled on the floor. He grabbed a clump of it, proceeding to corner Rose.

"Sir Benjamin III, you wouldn't dare!" Rose teased, her eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea he long it takes to get my hair and makeup like this?" She protested, crossing her arms. The two teens had a stare down in the middle of the messy kitchen until the faucet turned on of its own accord. Ben quickly realised it was Rose, and that a stream of cold water was heading straight for his face. He staggered back, flinching, but the water never made contact. "Drop the flour, Ben."

His eyes opened to see a ball of water an inch away from his face. He dropped the clump of flour at his feet, coughing as a small cloud of it rose up into the air. A second later he gasped as he was drenched by the water. "H-Hey! You said—"

"I didn't say anything. Plus I'm not letting you near me while you look like Santa." Rose rolled her eyes in amusement. She grabbed a towel and wiped of most of the flour of his face before using her powers to dry him. "Clean this up, and I'll stick to the baking from now on, okay?"

"Sounds good, Princess." Ben gave Rose a double thumbs up, causing her to roll her eyes again. He knew their relationship wasn't perfect, but he wouldn't trade Rose for anything in the world. Mistakes or not, he had taken the risk, and falling in love was much easier than falling out of it.