"It's not staring-or ogling, it's observing."
Maka corrected Patty, as Soul passes the basketball to Blackstar who shoots a flawless center shot to the basket. Kidd cried instead of blocking it moaning about symmetry in the process. The girls "observed" from across the court as their male counterparts waged war in the form of basketball without either shoes, or shirts. Soul and Blackstar without shirts, Kidd without his new dress shoes so they wouldn't get uneven scuff marks. Either way Patty, Maka, and Tsubaki had plenty to stare at with the shear testosterone driven bare backs.
Soul's physique appealing to Maka the way Patty would want to hug a giraffe that just so happened to be a serial killer. In other words, she couldn't stop nor help herself. He couldn't catch her staring unless he wanted to lose the game; Kidd wasn't an easy opponent Maka noted with a smirk. The females next her knowing all too well Maka was enjoying this more than any possible book she could be reading right now. However as those delicious muscles glistened with the lightest sheer of sweat turn directly toward her, and started moving closer she prepared herself with excuses of wanting to read.
He was walking slouched, tired, wiping sweat off his face with his white shirt. He had a cocky half grin plastered to his face but his eyes held respect calling out "gg," to the other players as the game ended. Maka had approximately five seconds left before he would notice or acknowledge her observations.
Five.
He looks to the side, his loose hair falling to shade his eyes as the sun hit his enticing neck.
Four.
His hand reaches up and runs through his hair, before scratching at the back of his scalp.
Three.
That same hand slides down, his thumb sliding down into the waistband of his pants and sliding it across his front, to readjust.
Two.
His eyes dart from each friend's face, before they jump to her face and settle on hers with a much different look than he gave the rest.
One.
"Oh my jfnwifnefkskvjtihdncofj those can't be bedroom eyes can they!?"
The look was gone in a second once he and the others reached where the girls were sitting. Regardless Maka's face had a color change reaction.
It was things like this she observed that gave meaning to the stupid feelings she felt described accurately only in romance novels she's read.
Like when the damned scythe cleaned his pride, and not that pride, ("If only...") the other pride as in his motorcycle; his baby. The only girl she's ever known him rub his hands willing all over. Even if it's personified, it's probably the only other female thing he's agreeably touched apart from her. He honestly couldn't really avoid Maka though if ya know, he wanted to live past any mission he would go on.
But still, back to him rubbing down his bike.
The few times she could watch him from a window or a concealed spot he's never failed to take his shirt off at one point, often successfully getting grease all over that luscious chest. Plus way he could use a wrench or any tool of that matter was not only impressive but just plain hot. His muscles flexing just to hold something steady because damn some of those things were really heavy as fuck. Seriously, who doesn't find a bike mechanic in their early twenties hot?
Who doesn't find Soul hot?
That question is actually voiced to no one, because Soul does actually have a parade of females observing him in a much more obvious manner than Maka. She could sometimes even catch herself mumbling, "Ha, newbs." to the poorly skilled girls. He was easy to stal-observe, at school and in roundabout daily life activities like the class period they're currently in.
General Sciences.
The college course you take when you have everything you need but you're bored and you want a semi-random class course. Professor Stein was an odd ball instructor, often giving assignments with really really general guidelines. For instance the assignment he just gave out, Maka looking down at the paper given with only about one maybe two sentences on it from a first glance:
"Conduct an experiment of your choice. Write a lab report, due in a few days."
Professor Stein gave true meaning to the word, "General," even more so as he darted out of the classroom and out of his responsibilities. Meanwhile Maka gave a sideways look to Soul, knowing he actually enjoyed experiments for whatever reason. This therefore would explain the thoughtful stare at the paper and the contemplative glance at her. Maka's eyes dart to her book in caution, nonchalantly asking,
"What'cha have in mind for your experiment?"
And long drawn out silence occurs.
"I don't know really... The prompt is just slightly broader than I expected."
Quite on the contrary, he knew exactly what his experiment was going to be. Maka nods along understandingly mentioning that she'll just bullshit some experiment about Blair's ability to spontaneously combust the little clothing she has when she transforms or do something on turtles. He chuckles at her selections and pats her on her head while asking himself mentally,
"Can head pats be romantic?"
Maka on the other hand dived into her research head first for the remainder of the class before packing it in and heading home with Soul being his usual sexy-dickhead self. He gave a few pokes at her temper with tiny-tits comments but after a book chop or two she waves them off like usual with a good hearted smile and a slight eye brow twitch. Of course Maka being one to enjoy getting mostly everything done in one night decides to head to the library to look up crap about spontaneous combustion.
However, getting home to the apartment she finds a note stuck to the door.
Not folded nor left open for anyone to read, no, this fancy ass fuck rolled whatever he or she wanted to say into a fucking scroll. Maka swears it's the little things she frets over the most, and this person has caught her attention completely just by the way it was presented. She was afraid to open it, it was far too cool and unique to temper with, but she paused for a moment thinking in excitement, "What if it's from the new Chinese takeout place?!" Her ogling turned into grabbing greedily and fiddling with it to open.
In all the things her stomach could fantasize about being listed on that scroll, there was nothing but what her mind could only fantasize about.
It was a love note.
It was addressed to her.
Her face steadily gains color, reading over the adjectives such as "Beautiful," "Lovely," and her favorite, "Intelligent." She was not only complimented of her body, but a large portion was to her intelligence. It gave no aura of personal closeness almost as if this admirer was writing from afar. She was dazzled at the flawless sentence structure. This person had perfect etiquette and flawless cursive. She was actually jealous of whoever's handwriting. Among her thoughts she comes to a realization that she's awkwardly standing out in her apartment hallway staring at an object that certainly does not belong anywhere less than an art museum or a published book.
She quickly and carefully returned it to its original state and shoved it into her book bag. An unusual, also pleasantly troubled look was forever plastered to her face along with pinking cheeks as she entered her home. The smell of Tempura something wafted from the kitchen; probably chicken and some random vegetables by memory of when Soul last cooked something along the lines. She gravitated towards the smell and her hypothesis was correct. He turned around from the stove to greet her, only to look at her puzzled.
The neither expression nor color faded from her face.
"What managed to fluster your face?"
She couldn't even respond as of the moment, so she flew right past him and into her room to drop off her book bag and sort out the stuff within. She started to calm until the same humble voice repeated the question. Soul stood in the doorway an amused curiosity plastered to his face. "I'm not letting you escape with that look imprinted on your face." She kept pulling out her binders and pencils and all that jazz while quietly responding mindless excuses just to fill the expectant silence. She spoke of several things, each lie was being thrown out just for the sake of it; he would've broken them all apart anyway.
"...in front of stein and..."
At last she comes to a halt with a, "I don't know," sound with a shrug of her shoulders. By that point he was standing beside her, scanning the objects she pulled out of her bag. Pulling out one last item she gingerly set it down on the side of the bed completely opposite to Soul. Of course that gave Soul an intolerable urge to go over and investigate this cylinder shaped object, and that is what he fuckin did—much to Maka's dismay. He grabbed it casually, and she viciously clawed it out of his hands. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she reddened. However he pushed no further, with his hands up in the air and a smirk on his face that warned Maka she had to hide this thing well as he returned to the kitchen.
The smirk still plastered to his face as he starts to cook the rest of their homemade Chinese takeout, scribbling mindless notes in the alleged cookbook beside him.
Maka as of recent has tried to become a lot more observant, not of Soul but of her surroundings and more specifically surrounding males. Yet again, she stumbled across another doing of this admirer. There was a book resting on her seat in Stein's classroom when she arrived. The teacher hasn't been seen since he gave the experiment project, and no one else was in the room yet so she had nothing to base a suspicion off of. This left the pigtailed beauty to sit angrily flustered as the class slowly started fill. Her weapon coming in last as usual, however first to note and mention her expression.
She was staring at this fancy book in front of her. The golden spine with some type of rare leather cover and buckles on the ancient thing made it stand out from her usual. "Witchcraft book?" He questioned jokingly, a glare was sent in his direction as she bites, "No! I honestly don't know..." She is met with a face as confused as she truly is on the inside and a gesture to open the strange book is given. The first few words she read made her face soften and a cute giggle was stifled before she slams the book closed knowing her partner was watching.
"It seems to be a love story of some sort, rather ancient looking at the book though."
"You speak as if you didn't buy the thing yourself."
"It was on my seat when I walked in, it belongs to someone else, I think."
Just then Soul decided to pull out a page that stuck out from the rest which turned out to be a bookmark with a dedication note to, "The Wise Beauty." Maka's face flips to shock and questions if it's referring to her.
"Well it was on your seat, and it sounds very kindly addressed to a smart female, which would be you of all people. Maka's getting gifts from an admirer eh?"
Soul grins at this revelation, which Maka is honestly taken back by. Last time she had an admirer, Soul became the most protective fuck she's ever known, however it could be justified as that dude was more of an extreme creep with terrible poetic skills. Still, her previous observations of her best friend compared to this seem a bit paradoxical.
However then again so is this admirer and his choice of gifts.
A very fancy scroll, an ancient romance book, next poetry accompanied with a random living symbol of love, either wrapped around the stem of a rose, with thorns cleanly cut off, or with a maple leaf or a small scroll dropped off by a dove on her way home from college.
Every time this occurred she entered a constant state of fluster, which was clear as day and extremely amusing to her partner. He knew when she found something new and therefore would tease her and question her on who she thinks it is. She would always state she has been extremely observant and yet has found no clues, even at the expense of her Soul-body-ogli—observing time. He would closely listen, as she would name anyone from that dude who glanced at her for point five seconds in the hallway to Ox, with a disturbed shiver accompanying the name followed by an angry loud announcement of,
"For fucks sake, I have no god damn clue of who he is!"
In the middle of her college campus, during lunchtime, in public. Soul chuckles at her embarrassment and leads her off to the library to cool her down.
However soon after the PDA, public display of anger, the poems and scrolls stopped. She got worried, even voicing her worries to Soul wondering if he was there at the time and she scared him off. His face was always amused and he would ask,
"What's it to ya?"
"I don't know really, Soul... Just by his words I've gotten an admiration for whoever this is, intelligence. I've never had an admirer I can admire back; it's a nice warm feeling ya'know?"
"Yea, I know."
He responded with an unusually warm grin and stare, which she gets nervous under for some reason until, "Looks like someone is in looooooooove." The only book being in her vicinity would be the admirer's gift, and for once she doesn't bite the tease, under the justification that the book is too precious to be smashed against his head. After that day, the poetry didn't come, the notes of love didn't come, but the scrolls did. However they held different words now.
They held clues.
"Your observations were right the first time, Oblivious Love."
What observations? She had no idea the first time she started observing all guys around her. It was her mind vs. everything with a dick near her.
"I'm closer than you think."
Oh, great. Useful advice in the most miserable way. Blackstar? Kidd? Spirit, in some twisted daddy manor? Crona? She drones the possible names in her head as she writes her report on spontaneous combustion.
Unfortunately the names are causing her to have a writing block, so she saves the report and just sits at the library computers for a bit. That was, until she was called to the front desk of the library and an old lady hands her a scroll saying it was just dropped off for her. At once she releases plethora of questions onto the elder about the delivery person.
"What did the person look like? Was he old or my age? Creepy? Is he a common visitor here? What was he wearing?"
She smiled sweetly,
"I'm afraid he requested for me to tell nothing of himself, my dear."
Maka insist once more but the lady persists and Maka's will crumbles before saying thanks and just heading home. As she walks to the door of the library she opens the letter to her surprise finding a footnote stating that this note will be the last that she will receive from him, and then one single word on the middle of the scroll that as if he knew, answers one of her questions to the librarian.
"Sweatpants."
It an article of clothing, being the only thing mentioned she concludes that it's whatever he is wearing, also indicating that she should search the campus for anyone wearing sweatpants. She is just too mentally tired from both the admirer and the report to do that though, so her feet automatically drag her home.
She drones on right past Soul to the desktop where she makes an out-loud declaration that she's going to finish her damn report. However her mind wouldn't will it and she eventually slams her head down on the keyboard in a personal best of two minutes into trying. Soul asks if she's okay and she snaps, wiping out the three clues she was given onto the kitchen table.
"I don't get him Soul I don't know who the hell he is and he's going to stop sending notes!"
She furiously points to the first one,
"He says whoever I was watching first was him, thing is when I started observing all the guys around me there was no particular one, just if a person around me had a dick I tried to keep tabs on them!"
She points to the second clue,
"Kidd? Blackstar? Spirit?" She makes a disgusted face, "None of them have this capability or secrecy to do this!"
She points to the third clue,
"How the FUCK is this going to help—"
A shirtless Soul looks up at her with eyebrows raised, a look indescribable in his eyes, sheen of sweat covering his body from some workout as his hand moves down and his thumb slides under the waistband of his sweatpants to readjust. She's always observed him, she's always followed with her eyes where his hand would go, and it's beginning to dawn on her that he knew she watching the whole time. Now observing the facts from afar, he was the closest person she had physically since they lived together and mentally as he was the only reason she wasn't insane with all the studying she does, he gave her a best friend.
She just now notices the pen tucked behind his ear.
A pen that he removes with his hand and applies to one of the several papers in front of him that she knows is part of his experiment. She finds his hypothesis statement in one glance and she maneuvers around the table to next to him to read,
"Can one successfully make their crush fall in love without ever giving away identity? Specimen used here would be the Maka Albarn."
He writes unusually neatly on the bottom of the page, "Hypothesis correct." Maka realizing that it's the same handwriting from the scrolls she becomes flabbergasted at was to say only managing to ask,
"Soul... You can write?"
He chuckles, she blushes.
"Only for my Wise Beauty. It's cute that I was the last possible person you could think of yet I've been of your crush for years."
"Who's been telling you!?"
"I'm not much of an idiot as I act to be. I notice your bright eyes on me all the time, Love."
At this point he proceeds to pull her down onto his lap, and deliberately slow he wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her close. One loosens its grip and finds her hand, picking it up to bring to his mouth and kisses it. His lips softer than the skin they touch. By now his sweat is gone, but he's incredibly warm and her body is just absorbing the heat, flushing her face more as it creeps down her neck.
She squeaks if that was really him writing the scrolls from heart, and he begins to recite every single one in her ear with a low soft voice. She fiddles with his hands the entire time hiding small smiles as he finishes reciting everything he wrote with a kiss to right behind her ear to finish. She gasps and he grins warmly, also making a comment as he shifts her around to straddle his lap,
"You really must have a thing for my hands."
Enjoying the look of embarrassment on her face directly he sets a hand of his gently under her chin and pulls her face close, which got the perfect instinct he wanted of hers to kick in, as he feels the sweetest pressure grace his lips,
Her.
His hands return her waist and he refuses to let her lean away, feeling her lips curve up the slightest in response. She still managed to pull away gently, seeing his face calm but full of deep satisfaction and contentment, with an all too intense look in his eyes she's only had a glance of before. If they weren't his bedroom eyes then may the gods have mercy on her when she does see them. He pulls her close as if for a kiss, but stops just before their lips touch and questions with a sly smirk,
"I can do a lot of things very well with my hands, if you've ever wondered, wanna try them?"
Before it is even asked I don't know of I will make another lemon chapter or if I will make a separate pwp story that can kind of continue this or if I will do anything at all. Who knew Maka had a thing for words and hands, oh whatever would she do if they were both used on her in ways found in Soul's mind? ;D
I'm sorry for this being all over the place, I'm bad at organizing thoughts.
Sorry for cliffhanger tease too, but hey I'm evil. 3