A/N: Hope you enjoy! My first, but loaded with fluff. No flames please, I don't think I can handle it! ;.;

Evans and Albarn Residence, 11:29 pm.

"You are such a jerk!" Maka screamed. "Why are you always such a jerk to me, Soul?"

Soul flinched. Maka took this as another insult.

"I can't believe you! You bastard!"

"SHUT UP!" Soul shouted. "Just SHUT UP, Maka!"

Maka looked as though she wanted to murder him. She let out a shaky breath. "Get out."

"…What?" Soul stared at Maka in disbelief.

"I said get out." Maka glared at him.

"Fine." Soul grabbed his jacket and stormed out, leaving Maka alone in his room. Maka heard the motorcycle starting up, and driving away.

Maka sat on his bed. They had been fighting a lot lately. Ever since the Kishin was defeated, actually. She looked around Soul's room. There were posters everywhere. There was a guitar that Maka was sure Soul had never played. There were piles of magazines in the corner. Maka realized that there were a lot of things you could learn about a person by looking around their room. She then banished this thought from her head, on account of it being very creepy to look around somebody's room.

Soul was a jerk.

Maka felt sick. She hated everything.

She didn't hate Soul. Not really. She couldn't hate him. He was her partner, and she was his. They were always together when they were fighting.

She flopped back on Soul's bed, staring at the ceiling. His bed was really comfy. The ceiling got blurry. The pillow smelled like Soul…

Soul drove all around Death City. He was angry. No, he was pissed off. Maka was insane. How the hell did he put up with her?

He sighed. They were partners. These fights were bound to happen. He turned the bike around, and went home.

When he got back, the apartment was quiet. He was exhausted. He flopped on one of the couches in the living room, and promptly fell asleep.