Author's Notes: I don't even know why there are so many phrases in parentheses. It was just a format and style I was playing with back then. Sorry if it's confusing or annoying but I thought it would be better to leave it in the format I originally wrote it in. (shrugs)

"I think I need you."

She stared back at him in surprise, shock on her features, silence on her lips.

His feet itched, and he fought the urge to step closer to her. He swallowed and broke eye contact with her, urgently looking at the floor waiting for her response.

She found herself when he looked away though she still felt fear flowing through her, "What? What are you getting at? What are-?"

"You heard me." He somehow managed to find strength and was looking at her again in his signature posture.

She found herself (irrationally) holding her breath.

His feet itched and this time he listened to them taking a step closer to her (which, in reality, should not have that big a deal as he must have been that close to her thousands of times before but why did the hammering of his say otherwise?). His (dry) throat let out a lower voice, "Is my meister scared?"

She remained frozen, (involuntarily) watching his every move.

His feet possessed him as drew closer and closer to her, his throat betrayed him for upon seeing her shocked state he let out an amazed chuckle, "My meister is scared…"

That (disappointingly) snapped her out of her reverie. She (angrily) looked away and her heart (bitterly) sank, taking this for a bad joke.

"Maka…" His hand itched so he lifted her chin up to meet her eyes. "Maka," he said firmly and he became aware of the (foreign) sensation of itching lips. "Maka, I need you."

"Liar." Her lips formed her (cute) customary part.

"Quitter." He retorted. "Listen you, just because other meisters can use me now doesn't mean I'm not yours. We tried to keep things professional between us when I became Shinigami's Death Scythe…"

His back itched so he leaned forward so that his lips were in (dangerous) proximity with her ear. The dryness of his throat reached new heights, effectively lowering his voice all the more.

"But I guess our relationship was never very professional in the first place."

He straightened himself, turned around, and took a few steps away from her.

"I mean it, Maka. I need you."

The moment Soul stepped (wonderfully) directly in front of Maka, she froze. Her breath, her thoughts, she was certain that even her heart had stopped beating and she (finally) realized that she was at his mercy. When he stepped away all her functions returned a mile a minute. She (slowly) identified an emotion she never felt around Soul.

She looked up and found him patiently staring back at her after having confessed to her a second time. Her eyes met his and she made a confession of her own.

"I'm… scared."

He smiled upon hearing this and Maka felt breath (involuntarily) leave her again.

Soul listened to his itching body, every inch of him wanting to get closer to her, and stepped forward so that he was (at last) directly in front of her again.

His hand (itching like crazy) reached forward and touched hers and immediately a surge of nervousness overcame them both.

But then he took a leap of faith and took her hand and the nervousness disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving in its wake a feeling of calm confidence, the feeling that always overcame them when she wielded him for battle.

They looked up at each other in surprise and Soul smiled at her, squeezing her hand. He leaned in a little closer and murmured, "Idiot, I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

Maka's free hand (unsurprisingly) found his check, a look of sadness in her eyes, "You're the idiot. You have the most dangerous job on the planet. How can you possibly promise something like that?"

He gave her an exasperated look and a soft Maka-chop. He feigned hurt when she made an annoyed face and pouted, "Don't you know me at all?"

He pulled her close and enveloped her in an embrace feeling his whole sigh from relief.

He smirked and stated simply, "It's not cool to break promises," before (finally) giving her a kiss.