And yet another edited one-shot. If you haven't realized already I think this makes it pretty clear that my mind stubbornly refuses to work in anything besides awkward snippets _ I have the occasional idea for a broader story-line but I always find myself getting discouraged by having to fill in all of the little holes and, well, coming up with some semblance of an ending xD Anyway I'm probably just going to continuously crank these out but I can say that this is the last one I had typed out before hand. Any others will have to go through the whole wonderful process of writing out before neurotically nit-picking, yippee~
Within a small Death City apartment beneath the grinning moon Scythe Meister Maka Albarn sat curled up comfortably on the living room couch. It was late. Very late in fact so as the digital digits of the clock on the table next to her flipped by Maka felt her eyelids drooping lower and lower. Her bright, forest green eyes were clouded with drowsiness and her ashy blonde hair had long since been removed from their pigtails. However, with her usual stubbornness she refused to surrender to the clutches of sleep like the other occupants of her apartment had done hours ago.
Everyone knew Maka loved to read, in fact she'd acquired quite a few irritating nick names because of this fact and she was currently engrossed in what was quickly becoming a new favorite. It was called City of Bones and dealt with a world not unlike her own; teens and adults alike tracking down evil creatures with a variety of supernatural weaponry for the good of the rest of the world, interesting to say the least. Tsubaki had recommended it to her and though she'd begun only a few hours ago she was tearing through the text at record speed. She just couldn't put it down. But it soon became evident that she was fighting a losing battle as a yawn pushed past her small, pink lips causing a clump of sandy blonde hair to fall in her eyes effectively breaking her concentration.
So... tired... the thought flitted across her foggy mind like a drunken dancer and with a sigh she slouched back onto the well-worn couch cushions. "Last chapter and then I'll sleep," she muttered aloud though not doing much to convince her sleep deprived body. With a huff she dimmed the lamp beside her down a click leaving just enough to read by and positioned the book in front of her eyes.
Distracted, Clary hardly noticed the Forsaken that broke through the protective circle, until it loomed up in front of her, as if it had sprung from the grass at her feet. White-eyed, with matted hair, it raised a dripping knife...
Maka's eyes snapped open suddenly. What happened? Had she fallen asleep? More importantly, where was she now?
Maka felt like she was floating as if she was a ghost, a spirit; hovering a few inches in the air as she swiveled her gaze left and right to take in her new surroundings. She didn't feel afraid or tense, just curious and somewhat... nostalgic? Surrounding her was a shadowy room with rectangular pillars standing periodically throughout the otherwise bare space. Some had fallen onto the dusty marble floor while other still stood crumbling and broken. She was entirely alone and more than anything the area seemed like a wide hallway, a connecting portion of sorts leading to something more important, and somewhere she felt she should know somehow. An unknown feeling was prodding at the edges of her memory but before she could feel frustrated at her inability to place it she heard footsteps.
They weren't particularly loud but in the silence around her Maka noticed them instantly. Accompanying them was a light swishing sound like fabric brushing the ground and a dull mumbling she couldn't decipher at the current distance. Whoever it was seemed to be talking to themselves and as the figure came into view Maka felt her stomach lurch.
It was Crona. She would recognize that light pink mop of hair, slim, bony figure, stormy gray eyes, and slouching gait anywhere. Then it hit her. She was reliving the memory of when they tried to stop the Kishin from awakening, when she'd resonated with Crona for the first time.
Just by thinking it Maka felt her nearly transparent form drift down towards the Demon Swordsman and when she was close enough, she reached out a hand to rest it on his shoulder. However, it just went right through with no more resistance than smoke. Feeling only slightly surprised by this Maka could only sigh and stare at Crona's glum expression as he waited for her and her friends.
Maka barely even noticed when Kid zoomed by on Beelzebub with Liz and Patty's silver pistol forms gripped in each hand but she waited with a tight chest for who she knew came next.
Maka's breath hitched almost painfully as Black*Star suddenly appeared from around one of the pillars with Tsubaki in her Ninja Knife form. "You the Demon Sword?" He asked with the beginnings of a cocky grin. "You seem pretty weak. I won't get any attention from fighting you."
Crona dropped his chin to his chest at this effectively shading his eyes from view before looking back up sharply with a twisted expression.
"You look pretty messed up. You alright?" Black*Star asked almost jokingly and Maka felt a wave of fierce protectiveness wash over, hands balling into fists by her sides. She had to remind herself that this was before they all became Crona's friends, and also that this was a memory, she couldn't change a thing.
With one fluid moment Ragnarok melted into Crona's back and reformed into a thin, black sword in his pale fingers. He didn't say a thing.
"But who cares about you! The main issue here is how I handle things!" Black*Star declared sweeping Tsubaki up in front of his face.
"Be careful Black*Star!" Tsubaki's worried voice rang out from the knife and Maka forgot to breathe as no one moved to attack. Then, in what could've been the strangest thing she'd ever seen she ran in, or at least herself from that time, with Soul's large, red and black Scythe form slung over her back and her favorite black trench coat flying out behind her.
"Wait, Black*Star!" Maka from the memory called out to Black*Star whose eyes slid sideways to glance at her but didn't drop Tsubaki from his fighting stance.
"You got here quick for someone as dumb as you," Black*Star commented and in the back corner of her mind Maka wondered why she hadn't given him a good chop in that moment. She always had a hefty book on her anyway.
Maka saw her own green eyes narrow at Crona from where she stood and shared the thoughts that had run across her mind. The Demon Sword.
"Let me handle this," She told Black*Star her voice low in its seriousness. At this Black*Star did lower Tsubaki to his side.
"What?" The blue haired ninja asked seeming both surprised and annoyed by her order.
"But Maka..." Tsubaki's soft voice met her ears again. "Dr. Stein's plan was for Black*Star to fight the Demon Sword..."
"Our attacks don't work on him!" Soul agreed his face appearing in the reflection of the curved blade behind Maka with a gleaming flash.
"You idiot! Don't steal my spotlight!" Black*Star said turning his eyes back in Crona's direction with a scowl. But before he could move a step Maka had Soul's Scythe form blocking his movement, her determined expression unchanged.
Black*Star chuckled darkly before speaking. "Come on, girlie. Keep acting cocky and I'll kill you!" He threatened a vein standing out against the tanned skin of his temple.
Still Maka's past self didn't waver, didn't even give any inclination that she'd heard as thoughts of vengeance swirled in her mind. Maka felt sick at this. How could she ever have even considered trying to hurt Crona?
Letting his shoulders slouch forward a bit and the creepy glare fade away Black*Star smirked. "Can't believe a good student like you is disobeying a teacher." He taunted smiling all the while. "What's the deal? A rebellious phase?"
"Be quiet."
"Alright then this spotlight is all yours," Black*Star conceded and Maka felt a slight pang of curiosity to as why he'd backed off so easily. "I'll leave him to you but be careful. Don't do anything reckless."
"Yeah," Was all Maka said in response to her friend's rather out of character concern.
"If you get in trouble call for me! I'll come and help your sorry butt!" And he dips back down into annoying territory.
"Okay I get it just go already."
"Let's do it Maka!" Soul said now filled with his usual confidence once again and again Maka's only response was a slight nod and, "Yeah."
Leaning his weight forward before taking off Black*Star charged at Crona keeping low to the ground. Crona raised Ragnarok in attempt to block Black*Star's path but he just gave a shout of "Speed Star!" before temporarily vanishing to appear again as he sailed over Crona's head.
"So long Demon Sword!" Black*Star called out with a laugh as he turned around in the air and just as Crona mumbled something about attacking from behind Maka had her Scythe wrapped around his small frame, effectively stopping the attack.
Then she began her own assault. Maka flinched with every blow her past self landed on Crona's body before sending him flying with a two legged kick right in the gut. She could vividly remember the feeling of pounding her fists into what felt like a block of lead and the strangely loud sound of impact his body made against the hard floor, ringing hollowly in the vacant space.
"Ah, I'm suddenly all beat up," Crona complained from his position on the floor, Ragnarok still gripped firmly in one hand. "I don't know how to deal with a girl like this."
"Kill her," Ragnarok's gravelly voice came in answer, so much more threatening sounding than the high pitched squealing he communicated with now.
"Yeah," Crona agreed his lips pulling back into an insane grin that made a cold shudder run up her spine and goose bumps form all over her body.
Her past self and Soul were talking as Crona pulled himself to his feet, head down again and shoulders slumped forward as if asleep on his feet. Maka remembered that moment well. Soul had called her smart yet a total idiot at the same time, and the coolest partner ever. The memory made her grin despite the situation she witnessed.
"Yeah I'll manage somehow," Maka agreed with her partner but not without contradiction.
"Don't be stupid!" Ragnarok yelled as he formed behind Crona from the black blood. "You ain't gonna 'manage' anything! Have you forgotten that time Crona cut you up!"
"It's so damn annoying!" He continued resting a huge hand on top of Crona's head as he leaned forward. Eating the soul of a small fry like you amounts to nothing at all! That Star kid looked way tastier! You unappealing useless brat!"
"Hurray," Maka's voice smooth tone came in response and Ragnarok did a slight double-take. "When we last fought you only thought of me as food. This time you see me as a person, hence 'hurray'. As for your Meister... you're always scared and nervous. Face me!"
Again Maka cringed at her own harsh words and Crona's soft voice. "Leave me alone," He muttered lifting his dark eyes up to hers. "For someone so weak you don't understand... You'll get cut up again. Why even bother clashing with me head on?"
From where she still stood or, um, floated near Crona she could feel the strength of her own gaze boring into its target. Determination. That was something she prided herself in.
"S-stop," Crona stuttered his eyes flicking downward to avoid her direct gaze. "I can't look directly at people like you with big, strong eyes."
"It's true that I'm weaker than you," Maka conceded not breaking her line of sight. "But I don't sense I'm going to lose. After all your soul isn't stronger than mine!"
At this Crona's mouth turned down in a frown and his overall demeanor turned completely serious. "Prattle on all you want!" Ragnarok said as he meshed back into his Meister before returning as a blade. "No one will hear your howls as a loser!"
"What's the matter?" Maka asked at Crona's change in demeanor. "Are you little ticked off? I'm Maka, a Scythe Meister. What's your name?"
"Demon Swordsman Crona," Crona replied simply his voice dropping an octave as he did.
"I challenge you Crona!" Maka continued with the same determined stare.
"Maka... So that's the name of the person I have to kill..."
Sliding her eyes shut for a moment Maka opened them to find herself seeing through Soul Perception. She could see the small blue orb of her past self's soul glowing and flickering brightly with her with twin angel wings curving out to the side majestically. Across the way was Crona and his own soul. It was at least five times the size of Maka's, colored like scarlet blood, with Ragnarok's tell-tale white X across the front and jagged bat wings protruding from it. So different... yet she'd been able understand him so well in spite of that.
And the battle began.
Maka watched helplessly as she and Crona fired back and forth, slashing, screeching, yelling. She watched as Crona sadly explained how he felt he needed power to learn how to deal with things, and how Medusa would abandon him if he didn't. That witch. She was the cause of all of Crona's pain, all of his suffering and misery. The only good thing she'd ever done was to give birth to a wonderful person like him only to manipulate him into her tool of destruction. If anything Maka wished that Medusa was somehow still alive so that she could tear her to pieces all over again.
Shaking her head fiercely to clear her head of the violent and pointless thoughts she returned her attention to the brawl unfolding below. With a yell escalating in volume her past self and Soul resonated explosively along with Crona and Ragnarok. The room quivered with the resulting vibrations like a mini earthquake and she watched as Soul's blade shimmered and swelled in her grasp.
The Demon Sword had undergone a change as well turning to a deeper purple color and a strange twisty blade that resembled a squared off jaw near the center. Maka threw herself forward, the huge scythe blade arching behind her in a trail of light but her titanic blows were either evaded or stopped cold by Crona's own blade. As their resonance shattered Crona took the offensive swiping at her rapidly but each blow was blocked by the shaft of Soul's Scythe form.
"No no no!" Crona yelled out in tandem with his attacks as Maka bent her knees to avoiding sliding back on the marble floor. "Don't make me hit your weapon!"
"Soul!" Maka cried out as she felt her partner's soul cringe from a particularly harsh blow.
"No shut up!" Soul interrupted gritting his sharp teeth together in a grimace. "Maka you have to stay out of this!"
"But if we keep going like this you'll-"
"Just forget about that other crap and focus on keeping your guard up!" Soul yelled again just as Crona knocked Maka back off her feet with one last slash.
At this point she knew the Imp was whispering to Soul. Tempting him with power through madness as she struggled to grasp the flicker of understanding she'd felt from Crona's wavelength. They stayed like that for a few agonizing moments, Maka huffing on her knees with Soul upright in one hand as Crona hung his head again, lost in his thoughts. Eventually though, his mouth split into another insane grin his eyes going blank as he hoisted Ragnarok high.
"Goodbye little one."
In that moment a million things seemed to happen at once. Instead of drifting on the outskirts as a spectator Maka was suddenly sucked back into her own body, though she still had no control as the memory unfolded. She reenacted her conversation in the Black Room with Soul as they danced in the shadowy space; the little Imp watching with interest and a smooth Jazz tune playing in the background. Her telling him how she suspected she could finally match Crona's wavelength if she took on the same madness and the concern in Soul's ruby eyes as she did. However, he agreed.
As quickly as she'd found herself in the Black Room the madness swallowed her whole. It was almost surreal, being in her own body again but unable to even lift a finger against the memory's course. Another thing was that while the rest of the memory had been played out clearly the time she spent in Crona's soul, sweeping away his protective circle in the sand seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. A flurry of nearly incomprehensible and blurry images in her mind's eye before Soul was dragging her out of the madness much to the Imp's frustration.
Back in the real world Maka found herself once again outside her body as a ghostly spectator, much to curiosity. Why all this switching views? This concern, however, was knocked clear out of her mind as Crona's shrieks pounded into her ears. He was on his knees, limbs flailing as spikes of Black Blood shot out of him in rapid fire. His gray eyes were wild and frenzied but in their depths Maka could glimpse that haze of madness receding rapidly.
The Maka from the memory was now stumbling towards him with heavy limbs and a warm smile and Maka felt that smile mirrored on her own face, until the very last moment. Just as her past self tripped over her own feet to land on what would've been a safe spot on Crona's shoulder the memory shifted. When the last traces of madness in his eyes were supposed to finally sputter and die things took a horrifying twist. Instead of relinquishing poor Crona the madness made one last desperate attempt to hold on and latched onto him for a moment longer. In between one moment and another one last Black Blood spike burst from his body, finding its mark in Maka's chest.
Time seemed to stop as Maka once again found herself in an actual body, with a jagged hole in her chest. Crona's screeching came to an abrupt halt and for a few moments the air was thick with disbelief until Soul's voice finally met the open air.
"Maka, NO!" He bellowed barreling towards his meister and the one who'd unintentionally hurt her. Once he got within a foot or two he lept up with a powerful kick that connected with Crona's neck sending him flying.
As the spike was withdrawn from her flesh Maka's limp body fell freely into the waiting arms of her partner. Soul held her close to his chest while chanting "no, no, no" under his breath above her. Even with the situation Maka was still surprised through her shock when hot tears fell onto her face. Soul was actually crying.
"You bastard!" He screamed in Crona's direction his razor sharp canines bared and hatred boiling in his eyes. "She was trying to help you! Monster! Demon!"
Maka couldn't see Crona's face from her angle as he shakily pulled himself to his feet but she knew he was flinching at each word as if they were physical blows. She wanted to plead for Soul to stop, tell him just how much he was hurting the already tortured Swordsman but, like the rest of her body, her lips and tongue felt like they were made of stone. Useless. The only thing she could feel was the burning pain in her chest, and her enraged partner's protective grip on her small frame. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, could only watch as the soul she'd just repaired was shattered once again.
Soul began to shake her lightly, careful not to aggravate her wound as one hand clutched it desperately in an attempt to stop the flow of crimson liquid that escaped from between his fingers. "Come on Maka," He pleaded his eyes still shining wetly. All of the rage he'd had towards Crona was gone to be replaced by agony at seeing his partner like this. "Look at me. You're going to be alright. You have to be."
"I… hurt Maka…" Maka heard Crona mumble from where he stood a few feet away. His body was still trembling violently to the point of it being impressive he could stand upright but he didn't move otherwise. Instead a fresh blanket of silence descended on the room after Crona's words before all hell was set loose once more. He giggled a high, unnatural sound void of any humor. Then he screamed.
This scream was different then the panicked one from before. It was a wail of agony as the flimsy barriers he'd had against the full force of the madness were swept away entirely. Crona's back arched into a C shape as he continued to wail like a siren making Maka's soul twist and writhe within her. Black Blood began to dribble from the corners of his mouth, nose, and eyes in dark stream tainting his pale skin. But instead of just flowing downward like any normal liquid the blackness spread like a splotch of ink on paper. It crept into his silky pink locks turning them black as if his whole head had been dipped in oil and left any skin it touched an ashy tone. Like a corpse. Still Crona continued to scream as his entire being was corrupted by insanity, then, as suddenly as it had began, he stopped. The scream died on his thin lips and his back hunched forward with arms dangling limply on either side of him. Excess Black Blood began to pool at his feet before his head snapped upwards at a speed that could've normally broken his neck.
Maka wanted to echo Crona's wail at what she saw. In addition to the darkened hair and skin Crona's eyes were now twin, black pits in his face accompanied by a grin that one could only achieve by slitting the skin at the corners of their mouth. "I hurt Maka," He stated in an empty drone and then giggled again his hair swaying from side to side like black vines. "Isn't that nice?"
Maka felt Soul's grip on her tightened with renewed force as her muscles finally gained the strength to shudder at the sight. "You stay away," Soul croaked earning yet another deranged giggle.
"Aww, and how is that fun?" Crona mocked twisting his head to the side in an inhuman display of flexibility. Ragnarok's Demon Sword form materialized in his hand and then he charged.
Maka and Soul were left helpless as Crona streaked towards them still wearing his face splitting grin and Maka could think of only one way to stop him. In a momentous display of effort she threw up a virtual wall of her purifying soul wavelength and as Crona crashed headlong into it, it wrapped around him like a blanket pulling them both under.
Maka was falling. She was still in her own body and couldn't feel the pain of the wound that had been so terrible before but that didn't make the situation any better. The darkness surrounding her was suffocating as she twisted and reached out for anything to slow or stop her descent but found nothing of the sort. A screech built up in her lungs but lodged itself in the back of her throat refusing to tear free of her lips. Wind roared deafeningly in her ears and pulled at her hair and clothes as she continued to fall through the apparent nothingness with no sign of stopping.
What was this darkness? How long could she possibly fall before crash landing on something? These were only a few of the rapid fire questions and panicked thoughts that sailed across Maka's mind but not to be met with a single answer.
In a same way that the scenery had seemed familiar so did this never ending void but she came to a realization much quicker than before. The Madness.
Yes, she was sure of it. She was lost in the madness again but instead of floating peacefully she was plummeting at the speed of light. For what could've been minutes or hours she continued to fall limply as she gave up trying to grab onto something.
Then, as quick as her plummet began the world seemed to open up below her revealing a vast ocean. Finally Maka found her voice again and giving a shriek of surprise as she neared the surface she instinctively curled into a ball to protect her center from the worst of the damage before hitting the "water" with a loud slap.
The momentum carried her down a fair distance into the liquid and still acting on instinct Maka moved her legs and arms quickly to wiggle her way back towards air, gasping in a large breath as she reached it. Her limbs fell into a steady beat to keep her above the surface as she scanned the area she now found herself in. There wasn't much to see. No matter where she turned to the "water" extended to the horizon with no sign of land. Looking up she was slightly unnerved to see the sky completely vacant of any sun or moon yet colored a dark orangey red hue. There were no clouds either.
Swallowing down the panic that threatened to take over her thoughts Maka continued to move with the goal of keeping her head above the surface. It wasn't really hard since there were no waves to speak of but the "water" seemed strangely thick. It saturated her clothes making them annoyingly heavy and as her arms and legs moved they met ample resistance, almost like she was swimming in watered down pudding.
She couldn't place what the liquid could possibly be until an abnormally large swell caught her off guard and swept some of it into her mouth. It had a coppery tang that Maka knew all too well and she spit it out in a hurry. Blood, and not just any blood judging from the dark color of the ocean. Black Blood.
Once again panic attempted to invade her rational thought but again Maka swallowed it down with a shuddery intake of breath. The stomach churning smell that she couldn't imagine having missed before was hitting her full force. She wanted to gag.
For the love of Shinigami, somebody get me out of here! Maka prayed silently as her limbs began to ache. She normally had great stamina but the exertion she'd done earlier apparently didn't disappear along with her wound. She could always float on her back if need be but what if she really was stuck here? She'd die of dehydration in only a day or two and if she had her pick this would definitely not the place she wanted it all to end. But could she really die here? If her guess was right then this wasn't the real world. Could you die in your subconscious? She hoped not.
Maka sighed tipping her head back once again to gaze at the rather odd colored sky when another question made its appearance in her mind. Where was Crona?
Before she could even begin to ponder this further Maka felt something grab onto her left ankle. She immediately tensed and was about to cry out as she was tugged under, effectively cutting off her voice. Maka squirmed and kicked at whatever had her in its grasp but to no avail. After descending a few feet into the Black Blood her downward movement stopped but her ankle was not released. Taking this chance to get a glimpse of what had her Maka opened her eyes wide though wasn't met with much difference. She couldn't see anything but blackness in front of her and the Black Blood made her eyes itch uncomfortably but she looked down anyway, only to have her heart almost stop.
Crona. Looking up at her curiously in the darkness was Crona face and sure enough she could see his pale hand wrapped firmly around her ankle. For a moment Maka felt relieved at the sight but it was short lived when she examined him more closely. For one thing his hair was still black. It drifted around him like tendrils of seaweed as he stared up at her with black on black eyes and then, he grinned. Maka let out a garbled squeak at the sight. Crona's teeth now resembled Soul's if anything, but smaller and more serrated. They lined his gums in two crooked rows and in that moment Maka noticed two other things. His fingers that were still enclosed over her ankle were connected by a thin webbing and each tipped by a sharp claw that pressed into her flesh. She also caught a flash of movement in the darkness below him where his legs would've been but instead glimpsed a… tail. A long tail coated in an interlocking mesh of scales with twin fins on either side at the bottom. The fins were ragged and torn but seemed to do their job well enough because as Maka's eyes continued to widen she barely even noticed as Crona moved.
"What's wrong Maka?" Crona's voice purred clearly in her ear from behind. He sounded huskier, confident because of her fearful reaction and Maka let out a silent gasp in surprise at his speed. She also shuddered as she felt the icy coldness of his skin as he rested a thin hand on the side of her neck.
"Does my new form scare you? I rather like it. It's so… easy to get around given my new soul environment." Crona continued and Maka barely moved. Her lungs should've been screaming for oxygen by now but it seemed that in this world that was not real a few laws could be bent. Just a few being the fact that she now found herself in an endless ocean of blood with a deranged merman version of one of her closest friends behind her.
So this was Crona's soul. The soul that had just before been barren of any liquid and only enjoyed balance for a moment before being overwhelmed. The soul that she had saved, and then shattered.
"You're not answering me Maka," Crona breathed and then with a sadistic grin, sank his fangs into the vulnerable skin of Maka's neck.
Sitting bolt upright Maka let out a bloodcurdling scream that she was sure at least half of Death City had heard. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably as she whipped her head frantically back and forth to take in her surroundings. Her living room apartment. This calmed her down slightly but her breath continued to come in short puffs and she couldn't stop quivering. She also noticed that her clothes were soaked and sticking uncomfortably to her skin so she immediately felt another flash of panic. Grabbing at her face and neck she was once again relieved to see them come back without a sticky black coating, it was just sweat.
"M-Maka?" A hesitant voice reached her ears from across the room and for what could've been the tenth time that night she felt like she was about to go into cardiac arrest.
Peering at her from behind the rectangle of light that was the door frame was Crona. One of his hands had a hard a hard grip on his other elbow in a nervous habit she knew all too well and he was regarding her with wide, concerned eyes. Gray eyes to Maka's relief alongside his normal shade of pink hair.
"Crona?" She murmured uncertainly and then mentally scolded herself for the fearful quiver in her tone. Knowing Crona he'd take the tiniest shifts in her demeanor as hints that something was his fault.
"I, I heard you scream and it w-woke me up. Are y-you okay?" Crona asked shuffling into the dark room. He reached the couch and, after a quick glance in her direction as if to ask permission, settled himself on the cushions about a foot away.
"Of course," Maka assured both him and herself at the same time reaching out a still shaky hand to rest on his knee. Crona noticed this and took it in his own running his calloused thumb along each digit in a comforting manner. Maka was suddenly very glad that Crona was the one here and not Soul who was currently spending the night at Kid's along with Black*Star. She couldn't really explain why though. "Just a… just a bad dream."
Crona bobbed his head and then looked up at her with sympathy in his soft gaze. "Nightmares aren't good." He agreed as Maka scooted a bit closer to him, needing to feel his warmth against her. "I would know, there's nothing worse than the hell inside your head."
Coming from anyone else to anyone else this commented would've seemed unsettling but Maka just smiled suddenly feeling very sleepy. The heat she felt radiating off of Crona's body was intoxicating and she wanted nothing more than to just curl up beside to him and sleep.
"Yeah…" Maka said with a yawn and then leaned her weight onto Crona's shoulder as she'd wanted to. She felt him tense slightly at the contact under the baggy t-shirt he was wearing but she then relaxed into her.
"Um, Crona?" Maka ventured unsure on what Crona's reaction would be.
"Yes Maka?" He answered sounding quite sleepy himself. His stormy gray eyes were half lidded and drowsy looking as he turned his head slightly to look at her.
"Could you… stay with me?" Maka murmured immediately feeling Crona shift uncertainly at the request.
"I, um," He stuttered a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he struggled for words but then abruptly stopped and just gave a tiny nod. "O-okay. If you want."
Maka sighed contently at this and snuggled closer to Crona's side pressing her nose into the side of his chest. Crona always had a really nice smell to him. It was like something slightly burned but otherwise warm and sweet like honey, an odd combination but pleasant none the less. Crona fidgeted again at this but within a few moments Maka noticed his breathing become even and his head loll sideways to rest atop her own. It wasn't long before Maka eased them both sideways into a more comfortable position and followed into the comforting nothingness of sleep.
*Dramatic, flourishing arm movements.* Ta-da? ^.^' Yeah well this is basically my attempt at angst which you can see is rather wimpy, this stems from the fact that I really dislike stories written for the sake of being depressing. It's alright if they mostly resolve themselves in the end but I don't particularly enjoy wanting to curl up in a corner and sob after I finish a piece ._. Pfftsh, well that's enough personal thoughts for now so I'll continue with the normal routine. Thoughts? Suggestions? Flames to fuel my raging bonfire? I await them all :3
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