"ARGH!"
Maka groaned and threw her paint brush to the table, a peeved, and slightly discouraged, grimace contorting her fine features.
"What are you in here makin' a ruckus about?" Her weapon partner cracked a devilish grin as he strode into their kitchen, a deep chuckle resounding within his throat when he saw the array of paints and pile of shredded, paint-splashed poster board atop their kitchen table.
"Ooo art project, huh?" Knowing full well that his perfectionist partner was less than gifted when it came to art, he tried to encourage her with a light grin…that she totally misread for condescension. "Hey!" He ducked as a tube of bright scarlet sailed toward his head. "I was just trying to be supportive!"
"Yeah, right." She scoffed, crossing her legs and folding her arms, hugging them close to her body as she sulked in the kitchen chair. Sighing, Soul plopped down next to her, eyeing a brush that he instantly grabbed up and dipped in a mound of emerald green. "Soul…" Maka warned, her tone edged with ice. "What-" She went rigid, her eyes wide and fiery as the coarse bristles of the brush made contact with her nose, leaving a blemish on her skin that matched her eyes. "SOUL EATER EVANS WHAT THE HELL DO YOU-"
She stared daggers into him as he laid a finger across her lips and smirked, his now green-yellow brush going in for some war paint. Grabbing up her own fallen weapon, Maka jammed it into the violet and thrust it toward Soul's hair. "One more drop on me and you go from albino to-"
She could feel his hand waver as he chortled over the ogre-like hue marring her countenance. "OOOO YOU ASKED FOR IT SOUL EATER! YOU'LL NEVER GET THIS CRAP OUT IN ONE SHOWER!" She began furiously coloring his stark white hair with the deep purple, her eyes flashing as she grabbed up a thicker brush and drove it into the white. "I'll make than tan face of yours match your natural hair in no time…"
"Green is so boring…Hello, Rudolph…"
"Well, you do like Kiss, right? How about a little Gene Simmons..."
"Hmm a little Charlie Chaplin 'stache never hurt anyone…"
"Ooo a nice flower riiiight on your cheek…"
The next 20 minutes proceeded in much the same manner, until paint brushes were coated in at least 2 different shades each and each teen's face had at least 25 different shades brightening their complexions. Maka was furiously scribbling what could have been deciphered as a pony on Soul's forehead when she suddenly fell back into her chair, her arms dangling over the edges as she surveyed her work.
"Oh death, Soul" She snickered. "You're a total mess!"
"You, too." He grinned, his crimson eyes bright.
"Ah…"She sighed, gazing at the paint-splattered poster board that was supposed to be her extra credit assignment. "I guess I don't need the extra points after all…" Pushing herself up from her seat, she giggled down at her partner's beaming face, reaching a hand toward him as she admonished, "We really should wash this off…it's not good for your skin."
"Ah, right…"
She reached out a paint-spattered hand, pulling him from his seat and leading him to their small bathroom.
They stood side by side in front of the mirror, scrubbing at their faces in silence for a little while. Maka chanced a glance at her partner and found him peeking right back, a small grin on his face. When their eyes locked, he flushed a deep red and jerked back to the front, rubbing furiously at a blue patch on his cheek.
"Thanks, Soul." Maka finally murmured, a shy grin in her lips as she peered over at him. "You…you still have red on your mouth."
"And you have yellow." He commented, a sudden, mischievous gleam in his eyes. "How about we make some orange?"
The girl's eyes widened as her weapon suavely slid his arm around her back and pulled her close, and the rest, as they say, is history.