Notes: Merry Christmas to you all! I wrote this superquick for Christmas in like, half an hour, so sorry for its rushed lameness. :'D Unfortunately there's not a white Christmas here (yet?). But hope everyone else's holidays are full of snow (unless you hate snow) and fun times and yeah!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
He stands in the snow, watching the flakes of white fall around him, the white like his hair. No, it's whiter than his hair. It's pure, unlike him. He remembers the black blood that…stuff spilling over the snow during the fight with Free. And when Maka coughed, that stuff staining her white glove…
Soul Eater Evans has a monster inside of him. And even without that monster, his physical appearance was always something turning people away. He was always trapped inside a dark room, playing a grand piano. Always trapped somewhere dark, behind curtains, where no one could see.
That had all changed after he met Maka, but he couldn't deny that even despite being by her side, he feels himself slipping back into his world of darkness. His black blood confuses him, it pressures him, it whispers and beckons and grabs at him when he's unprepared or when he's in a critical moment. It likes to play with him, it likes to trap him and prod at him. And it's exhausting to fight a constant internal battle without losing. Sometimes, he wishes that he could give himself in, because he was never pure like this pristine snow anyway.
Soul closes his eyes, and listens to the silence.
"Soul!"
His eyes fly open at the sound of his meister, whose green eyes are directly in front of his face. He blinks, startled, and she grins.
"Lost in your own thoughts again? Here! Merry Christmas!"
She wraps a scarf around him, a thick woolen scarf the color of ivory.
That's right. He doesn't need to be such a pure white. Maka purifies him from his darkness all the time, during moments like these when he's about to give up. Even if he's not completely white, he's not black like his blood, either, because Maka prevents that. He can be ivory, or gray. In such simple ways, she's saved him in so many ways he never thought possible.
He gives her a smile, feeling the scarf around his neck. He hadn't realized he was cold, but he's warm now so it doesn't matter.
"Sorry. I didn't bring my gift with me." He says apologetically. He had left it in his room in their apartment, wanting to give it to her privately.
Maka laughs, and shakes her head. "Don't worry about it! You looked cold, so I wanted to give this to you first."
She walks a few feet forward and observes the snow, spinning with her arms out. "Look, isn't it pretty? A white Christmas!"
She gives another laugh, and Soul watches her dance in the snow, her happiness radiating through the air. He grins at her childishness, but it reverts to a smile once he realized that she has yet again chased away his demons without the intention of having to. He doesn't know what he can give her that's worth anything that she's given him.
She has given herself to him. She's his partner, he's her partner. They're both entwined, and she has trusted him so much, she has given him so much, she has done so much. So it's only natural that he gives her everything of himself in return.