Please forgive me for my disjointed thoughts :3
I don't know why it is necessary to mention that I don't own Soul Eater.. I don't want to get in any trouble though, so there you go.
Please note that if I did own SE, Maka and Soul would be canon :3
Blair sniffs the milk carton suspiciously and listens to the indeterminate solids suspended in smelly liquid ominously clunking against the sides of the container. She wrinkles her nose and wordlessly places it back into the refrigerator. The oven timer indicates that she has fifteen minutes to get to her 11 PM shift at the cafe. Wouldn't want to disappoint the regulars. Ahem. Regular, singular. Spirit.
She poofs into her cat form and leaps onto the counter. Her ill-conceived jump leaves her scrabbling on the slick surface, and when her claws find no purchase, she continues to slide until she hits the edge of the sink and knocks over a row of empty cans and with an appalling "whoosh," a colossal pile of essay papers Maka had numerically ordered. Blair looks back nonchalantly and with a shrug, squeezes her lithe body through the open window.
Soul has been lying awake in bed since 10, listening to his meister shuffling papers in her room. After the rustling had stopped at 10:30, he began to feel less and less inclined to stay in bed. Besides, what kind of cool guy goes to sleep at 10? Hearing the clattering in the kitchen and needing an excuse to walk by Maka's room, he pads down the hallway towards her door at 10:45. Ah. Cute. Pajamas. She is still at her desk, but it doesn't look like she is getting much done. Her eyes are closed, her face is glued to her notebook and he can hear her quiet, even breathing from his place by her door.
He reluctantly backs out of her room, not wanting to relinquish the view. His dread of what undoubtedly awaits him in the kitchen finally overcomes his semi-voyeuristic urges, and he leaves to assess the crisis. He isn't disappointed. It is fractal chaos; papers are swirled all over the floor, and the week's recycling has toppled. He heaves a giant sigh and begins to pick up the pieces. Not cool.
Maka awakens with a start when she hears her two roommates hissing at each other. She peels her face off her notebook and wobbles first into Soul's room to snatch his thick flannel robe, and then into the kitchen to see what is going on. She hears Soul's low sardonic voice and Blair's shrill retorts before she even sees the two. When she knocks lightly at the doorframe, they spin around to see her and finally shut up. All of Blair minus her perky endowments droops guiltily, and Soul mutters indistinctly and kicks at the linoleum.
"It's okay," Maka chirps. "I was going to make breakfast anyway."
"Were you writing on your face?"
"Ah shi-"
Later.
"Come on Soul," Maka insists, delicately plucking at her weapon's sleeve. "We need to study."
"Oy, you don't even need to study," Soul grumps back at her. "I don't see why you're bothering. I'm the one who's behind; I don't see why you are in such a rush."
Maka just smiles and quietly tugs him down the corridor leading to the well-equipped library. Upon arriving, she begins to glance about furtively, fingering the strap of her leather bag. "Hm..Soul..why don't you go find us somewhere to sit?"
Soul smirks knowingly and saunters to a low traffic area near the back of the building whilst Maka stealthily begins to feed romance novels from her book bag into the bin labeled "Returns."
With a flushed face, she stiffly weaves through the aisles on her way over to Soul. It is late, and there is nary a student nor librarian's assistant in sight. He is sitting on the blue carpet in between the "Mc-Na" and the "Na-On" shelves. He grins wickedly when he sees her approach, and he straightens up from his casual slouch to razz her. "Was the librarian glad to see her smut safely returned?"
She slits her eyes and a heavy tome begins a lightning-quick path towards his vulnerable skull. His hands shoot up to defend himself, and she smacks his stomach instead. As he wheezes unintelligibly, she paws through her book bag for a pen.
"Makaaaa, seriously… can we have a break tonight? All this studying is not really for cool guys."
She studies him. His gaze is downcast, and she notices the darkness under his eyes and the droop of his shoulders.
"Yeah, we can take a break." Still looking down, he gives the synthetic blue fibers underneath him a crooked smile, which grows when she shoves him and lets him know with only a touch of humor in her voice that they will be working double time tomorrow.
They sit across from each other and let the comfortable silence that follows relax them. His detached expression is impenetrable, but his wavelength tentatively prods her own. He shares his quiet comfort, and her soul responds in kind without her conscious decision to do so.
Please review, complain, edit, do whatever you feel would improve this.. except I must mention that I cannot change many aspects of my "Spock-speak." It is the nature of the beast (i.e. myself.) I'll write more, regardless of whether or not it is desired by the FF community. Sorry -/-
From booknoodles: Tell me what to do please :3 Any help is both needed and encouraged.. Hehe :)