The Boss

by kkluvz2write

Inspiration from The Proposal and The Devil Wears Prada. Wear Maka makes everyone walk on broken glass, and Soul's her assistant. But underneath that thick layer of evil, there's a person with feelings, emotions and insecurities that Soul's never noticed, and wearing a tight skirt helps.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater characters

The Boss

I'd like to think I work really hard at my job; I get there every morning an hour early (which by the way is very cool of me to do, but extremely uncool to get up so early) and make sure everything in order before my boss gets there. I make sure to have the same cup of coffee that is requested every morning with a Danish and a piece of fruit. I also make sure the desk is perfectly organized and the work is put up in a pile, "To Dos" on the right and "Finished" on the left. Then I make sure that special Starbucks water is in its usual spot along with the straw for it. I then make sure there is no sign of dust or dirt, and then I go and ask the cleaning lady if she can do another round in my boss' office. After everything is spick and span and perfect, I go to my office, which is a mess. I ask the cleaning lady for one more favor, and she gladly does it, I really owe her one. Once everything is spick and span in my office, I look over the list my boss made me the night before. And of course on the top of the list is to make sure both our offices are clean and shining, with the workload ready to be undertaken. I laugh at the side notes of making sure I don't screw up and that everything is already finished before the arrival. Since my boss has been on a business trip, I've been able to actually get some serious work done along with having some me time. Let's just say my boss tends to take up every waking moment of my spare time, making me run errands and go all over New York to get the necessities for this righteous "cause" that everyday people just call the fashion industry. Yep, I work with the big time magazines and publishers, along with some models, photographers, journalists, and the devil herself. Maka Albarn, the one woman no one wants to work alongside, and guess who's her assistant, yep that's me Soul Eater Evans. If I could use one phrase to describe my boss, well let's just say it's inappropriate for our young audience out there. She rules with an iron fist and we all work under her, hoping she's more merciful than a mad tyrant when she comes into work. So the days have been short and pleasant for the past two weeks, but something tells me that's all about to change today.

"Morning Liz." I say in my usual carefree British tone to the young model.

"Morning Soul, you excited to see your number one fan today?" Her blue eyes sparkled as she flipped her shoulder length blond hair in her flirty way. Rule number five, never date flirtatious models, you never know if there's another guy involved and that's not cool at all to lie about secret relationships.

"Isn't it too early to be both sarcastic and flirtatious this morning Liz?" I hand her the headshots that were taken the other day.

"Hmm, that all depends on how you're looking at today. It could be a good day ya know? If you try hard enough that is."

"Ya, and you and I both know that's impossible." I smirk and walk back towards my office, the long hallway in front of me and all the models behind me.

The building has an interesting structure to it, there are several stories to this building and each one of them has its own category followed by hundreds of subcategories. The first floor is obviously the lobby where there is free coffee and sugar free food with a kitchen somewhere in the back, since no one eats around here, no one knows exactly where it's at. The second floor is where all the meetings are held, so there are several private rooms and some receptionists at the desks near the elevators. The third floor is the writing department, which consists mainly of journalists and some printers. The fourth floor is office equipment where all the big printers are along with the necessary office supplies (don't know why they put there own floor there but it's there). The fifth floor is where all the creators are, the artists of the magazine world. They have their own private offices where they brainstorm about titles, themes, and organization for the magazine. The sixth floor is where all the photography happens, with its own little area for special backgrounds, lighting, and special effects. The seventh floor is make up and hair, which coincides with photography and any model who needs a "touch up." The eighth floor is all wardrobe, for both male and females; you spill some coffee on your shirt, this is where you go. The ninth floor is the cleaning supplies along with some washers and dryers. The tenth floor is the "freshening up" room, where you will find a small spa along with showers and a small Jacuzzi. The eleventh floor is where all the models hang out, it used to be a waiting area but they tend to do whatever it is they do there. The twelfth floor exists for those crazy enough to manage it all, all the money, all the income, all the employees, everything. The thirteenth floor is the "unlucky" floor where you go to get fired. The fourteenth floor is where I work, all the assistance of the big people are usually in here when they need space from their boss (which doesn't last long enough), or where we go to actually get work done. The fifteenth floor is where my boss works, at the top of the entire fashion industry is her lair where she overlooks all those who work beneath her (both literally and figuratively speaking). Yep, she's the face of the entire magazine and here's where all her loyal subjects are to make sure her day is as "perfect" as perfectly possible. I have to admit, I've never loathed a woman in my entire life, until I met Maka Albarn. At first I thought she was a harmless little fly due to her petite size and lack of muscle, but I was wrong. Ever since Death City's Fatal Vogue Magazine was in search for a new face to be their editor-in-chief, Maka Albarn was the first in line. She had a spectacular resume, great previous employers, and the perfect background. I heard some myths that she used to be really nice before taking on her current job, but I don't believe a woman as evil and spineless as her could have ever been kind. Well that's enough of an introduction; let me introduce the familiar faces of the industry. You already met Liz, her younger sister Patty is also a model, she has short blond hair and the same beaming blue eyes and she's a lot crazier than her sister. Tsubaki is the head of photography, but personally I think she could be a model with her long black hair and indigo eyes. Don't misinterpret me, I'm not interested, she's just a good friend and Blackstar already has his eyes on her. Poor Tsubaki, the only guy that's crazy enough to call himself a god would be after the sweetest girl in the entire building. Blackstar is in a world of his own; he's actually a model, well a stand in, his crazy star-like hair that's an unnatural color of light blue and tiny green eyes would freak anyone out. He's usually working around photography, assisting Tsubaki, or causing me trouble, but we're pretty good friends. Death the Kid is the mayor's son and suffers from major OCD, so he's head of the cleaning department, along with the artists that make sure everything is symmetrical when it needs to be. I already talked about everyone that's important, so I guess it's cool to tell you a little bit about myself. Yo, I'm Soul and I hate my last name, why? Well the Evans are a prestigious family that posses musical talent and are world renown for their perfect mannerisms, and being total snobs. I ended up being the problem child who rides around on a Ducati and likes leather and playing alternative jazz music on the piano. My older brother Wes is a world-renowned violinist, my mother is an opera singer, and my father plays the cello, so we're all musically inclined, but I hate classical music.

Thus I moved out of Whales and moved to good old New York City, so I have a light British accent rather than an American one. I hate my boss, love my job (when I do actually get to write anything, proof read things, or finish my tasks for the day), and love New York. So that's me, oh and did I mention I have white-silvery hair, red eyes, and sharp pointed teeth? Ya, I'm kind of like an albino, but tanned and muscular. Too many fangirls attack me on a day-to-day basis, and I manage to avoid those particular areas. I don't mean to brag, but the only woman not trying to trample me with her Prada shoes, suffocate me with hugs, and smother me with her shining lipstick is my boss. Tsubaki is different, she's actually the only girl I can really talk to, but once again, she's taken.

"She's coming."

I hear snickers coming from down the hall as all the girls scatter to their desks and prepare for the worst of it.

"Damn! She's early." I look at my watch to find that she's two hours early and I haven't even started my workload yet. I rush to my desk and sit, trying to do as many amounts of paper work as possible.

"Damn it Jerrie! I said I needed that today! Oh nonsense, ugh well call me when it's ready then. Jesus can no one do their job right?"

She marched up toward the lobby and burst through the doors in a lady like manner.

"Good morning Miz Alb'rn."

"Guid mornin'."

"Good day." They all bowed their heads and made way for her. It made sense, since everyone was already terrified of her. She ignored them and got in the elevator, alone. Everyone takes a breath as she heads towards the fifteenth floor.

"Soul, she's in the elevator." I read my text messages as one of the girls from the lobby sent me.

"Thanks." I respond and practically jump from my seat.

"Shit." I whisper under my breath as the elevators open and I'm not there fast enough to grab her things.

"SOUL!"

"Here we go again." I whisper to myself, running over to her.

"HERE."

"You're here early."

"Ya well Jerrie screwed up again and the work was unfinished. So guess who has to pick up the slack."

"Well at least it will be done to your liking."

"Pfftt, ya but now I have twice as much work to do. Tell me . . . what did you accomplish, if anything, while I was gone?"

"Well I did that summer shoot, those interviews were reviewed and censored, and Paris is all reared up for fashion week."

"Hmm, impressive. It seems like someone finally did their work right. Where's Tsubaki?"

"Tsubaki?"

"Yes, I emailed you that I wanted to have a meeting with her."

Of course, I didn't check my email.

"I'll go get her."

"Fine, send her to the thirteenth floor."

"Miss Albarn?"

"Call me Maka."

"Maka?"

"She isn't getting fired, believe it or not but that room is also where the meetings with photographers are held. There's more privacy and I can actually focus there. Now stop asking me questions and do as you're told."
"Right, sorry."

"Go on then." She waived her hand at me as I rushed towards the elevator after putting her things in the closet.

She was wearing a simple black dress with her blood red Prada shoes. Her black fur coats was made of god knows what poor animal, and her hair was pinned up in a neat twisted but that sat in the center of the back of her head. Small streaks of light brown were woven in between her blond-bronzed hair. Her skin was a fair ivory color; she had a small build, too skinny in my opinion, and more intimidating than beautiful. Her eyes were a fiery jade color and were always a blaze with frustration from her short temper. She was petite and seemed harmless, till she opened her mouth. She never held back, and yet she was able to appear graceful and poised when in public. But when she was here, she didn't give a damn. If looks could kill, everyone in this entire office would be dead already. She has some curves, but no bosoms; her bum is pretty nice though. Not that I've noticed!

"Hey Tsubaki?"

"Ya Soul?"

"Maka wants to see you on the thirteenth floor."

"Alright."

"You're not worried?"

"No, she always sets up our meetings to be there. But I did forget to check my mail about our first meeting for when she got back. She's probably mad."

"Nah, not at you, at least."

"How is it that you always manage to get on her bad side?"

"It just takes effort."

"Or none at all."

"Hey!"

She giggled, put her camera down and walked towards the elevator, her hips slightly swaying.

"See ya." She waived and was off.

"Huuhhh, why is it that all the sane girls are taken." I sighed and let myself act uncool for a split second as I slouched and pouted.

"YO SOUL! ARE YOU STILL TRYING TO STEAL MY GIRL?"

"What? No man, that's so uncool. I just think you're lucky is all."

"DAMN RIGHT I AM, HAHA. SO HOW'S IT GOING WITH LIZ?"

"Oh it's going, in the wrong direction."

"WHAT? BUT SHE'S THE HOTTEST MODEL IN THE WHOLE BUILDING."

"Ya, which means she's probably taken."

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT FOR SURE."

"Ya well I don't really think my life can handle a girlfriend right now anyway."

"MAKA'S REALLY GOT YOU WHIPPED MAN."

"What! NO!"

"YA RIGHT, YOU DON'T EVEN TRY AND STAND UP FOR YOURSELF."

"That's because I'm trying to get a promotion, so I can finally live my life again. Maybe I can even afford my rent."

"YA RIGHT, WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT? ONCE YOU GET PROMOTED, IT'LL JUST BE MORE WORK."

He was right, even if I did get promoted, I would still be working under her.

"DAMN IT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, all those nearby turned to look at me.

"SO NOW WHAT MAN?"

"I'm not taking this anymore. I'm giving her a choice, either she promotes me and get's off my back or I'm outta here!"

"Good luck with that." A soft purr came up from behind me as fingers trickled down my back.

"LIZ, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"I'm here to give some words of wisdom. Maka will never let you out of her sight for a split second Soul. You're too talented and way too good at what you do."

"So?"

"So, she'll never let you leave this company alive."

"I don't give a shit, I'm done with dealing with her bitchy ass ways."

"Soul, think about it, Maka likes keeping things in the order she prefers, where she can see everything and control everything. I honestly think she's picking up some of these habits from Kid."

"HOW WOULD SHE DO THAT?"

"They're dating you nit whit." Liz's voice was shrewd and irritated.
"What? She never told me that."

"Hu, really? Never telling her own assistant who she's dating. You do know who else was on a vacation at the same time she was don't you?"

"KID!"

"Yep."

I was too baffled to speak . . . it wasn't like Maka to keep secrets from me. Not that I gave a damn about what went on in her personal life.

"Soul?"

"YO SOUL, ARE YOU OK?"

"Wha? I'm fine, I need to get up there?"

"Oh why bother Soul. You're already half an hour late anyway."

We all turned to see the devil herself standing in front of us.

"Miss Albarn."

"I don't want to hear it Liz, you've done enough, get back to work." Maka gave Liz "the glare," the same one she used to put people in their place with out the use of words.

"As for you Blackstar, I don't appreciate your voice being carried throughout the halls. Find a way to pipe it down."

"Yes ma'am." It was the first time I'd ever heard his whisper.

"Better, now go and help Tsubaki bring down the fall back drops, we've got a new shoot to do. And as for you Soul, I'd like to see you in my office. That is, unless you're not done here."

"No, Maka, I'm all through here."

"Good." She turned around and went straight for the elevator; usually she would have me ride with her. She must have been pissed.

"You're in deep shit man."
"Don't remind me." I walked to the elevator, with a million thoughts running through my head, mainly: I really hope she doesn't fire me. I knocked on her door and waited a moment.

"Come in Soul." Her voice was somewhat calm, but I could hear the slight emphasis she made on my name. What she always did whenever I was in for an ear full.

"Sit down." I did so, looking up at her. She had her arms crossed in that strange way, letting her hands gently rest on the lowest region of her back. Damn that dress looked good on her. What was I thinking! She's my boss! And she hates me! I'm so screwed.

"Soul, you've been working here for five years now. You started off as somewhat lazy and lost in this business.

But you found your way and even at times, dare I say it, impressed me. Your hard work and dedication helped the summer edition pull through and you've saved me a lot of work by sticking your neck out for me. I know you hate the treatment you get here, and I'm really trying to be patient. But patience and Maka Albarn just don't seam to mix. Thus, I'm giving you an option. Either you pack up your bags, or you get your shit together."

"How so ma'am?" Oh great, now I got my mouth running.

"How so? Ma'am? Enough formalities, and cut the crap."

"Fine, WTF (censored) are you talking about? I work my ass off seven days a week and put up with your bitchy attitude, I never complain and I always do as I'm told. What more do you want from me woman?" Was that too much? Aww, who gived a fuc. . . .

"Hmm, I see. So you think just because you work harder than anyone else here in the entire buiding, you should get a promotion? You think you could handle any other job given to you?" She finally looked at me, her chest somewhat sticking out and her eyes focused on mine, while mine were focused on something else entirely.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you Evans!" Great, now she's really mad.
"What is it you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want from me Maka?"

Her eyes widened and she pulled not only herself away, but she also separated her arms, something she never did during a meeting. She stopped and thought about it for a while until she finally looked at me again and faintly smiled. Her face lit up and she actually looked harmless, maybe even considered to be pretty.

"Soul, what I want is for this company to succeed, no other fashion magazine does what we do. No one else could make this magazine as successful as it is today. You know that they've been trying to replace me for years. They thought I was too harsh on my employees, but not look at the magazine and how it's thriving. And all that started when you came into play. Ever since you became my assistant, the magazine has prospered off of your passion for writing and, potentially, obeying commands."

I was baffled, was all this really true? But doesn't that mean?

"Then I should be promoted."

Once again, she unlocked her arms and looked away for a moment. It was like she was trying to hide something from me.

"Promotion, that's all you want isn't it? To have your own stories in the magazine as apposed to just editing others."

"Well?"

"Well, I suppose any other good boss would do so."

"Good boss?"

Her spine seemed to shudder at the emphasis on good.

"Yes?" Her tone was somewhat sensual, maybe even erotic. What was she getting at?

"What do you intend to do with me?"

"I guess I'll have to just promote you. But, there will be some restrictions."

"Like what?"

"Like, you'll stay in the same office you're in. I'll have your name plate changed, and you still are to report to me for everything and will still be my secretary and manage my schedule."

"So basically I'll still be your assistant, but I'll have an editor title and I'll be able to write some of my own stories and have them published?"

"After I read through them and approve them."

"And the pay."

"Doubled."

"Tripled."

"Double and a half."

"Double and three quarters."

"Deal."

"Huh, perfect." I smirked, loving the power.

"Now, get back to work." She sat atop her desk, her creamy long curvy legs exposed to me as she read through a competing magazine. I have to be honest; it was hard for me to walk out after seeing that. Who thought she could be so, sexy.

That was Monday; it came and went, though it did feel a lot longer than it probably really was. Tuesday was her Starbucks day, and usually she didn't leave her desk. So I scoped out the new models, since they always came in for interviews today. To which I was glad to take over for Blackstar, since he wasn't able to keep focus very well. I was the only one that knew Maka's taste and could get the job done right, along with getting some numbers, Tuesday was a good day.

Snap.

"Next please." Tsubaki was taking the pictures and I did the interviews.

"So, Molly, what do you love about Fatal Vogue Magazine?"

"Wow, I've never heard an English accent before." A genius.

"I'm actually British." I gave her a wink, and she practically melted in her chair.

"Well, I've read Vogue since I was like six. And I've always wanted to be a model, ya know?" She smacked her gum together and my brain cells about burst at the popping sound.

"I see, is there any other intimate reason?"

"Oh, I don't usually go onto second base on the first date." She smiled and giggled, curling her hair in between her fingers. She was pretty, pale skin, some freckles, and red-gold hair with blue eyes. She was tall and skinny, had a great bone structure, but her character was lacking. It may show through the photos.

"So, you don't have a passion for modeling?"

"Oh I like it, like a lot."

"I see. Well that's all. We'll call you."

"Oh ok, thanks. Wow, that was like really easy."

"Hmm." I smiled, trying to put on a placid face. The one thing Maka and I had in common: gum chewing, major dislike.

"Next." I hollered.

"Hi, OMG I'm like such a huge fan!"

"Great, what's your name love?"

"Emily."

"Ok Emily, why do you want to join the Vogue team?"

"Well, like I totally have wanted to meet other hot males and stuff."

"What's you're motivation?"

"Oh, I have a red and black convertible Mustang of course!"

"Ah, I see. Hmm well, what do you like to do on your spare time?"

"Go out and hang out."

"Interesting, what do you go when you hang out?"

"The bar silly!"

"Hmm. Next!" I'm loosing patience; she had bad acne and some serious bad lungs.

"Hello, my name is Mey."

"Hi Mey. Tell me a little bit about yourself?" Wow, tall, brunette, green eyes, naturally pretty, fair skin, and seems to actually have some brain cells left!

"Well, I just recently started modeling. I actually want to be an actress, but this is a start."

"I see, where were you born?"

"Whales, England."

"No kidding?"

"You as well?"

"Yep. Cool, so who is your role model?"

"Well, I'd have to say Audrey Hepburn. She wasn't just beautiful on the outside, but the inside as well."

"True, true. What do you like most about the magazine?"

"Well, I think the stories are very believable and not far-fetched at all, whoever does the editing does a great job. I think the photos are also amazing, and everyone seems so organized and family oriented."

"I see, so what are your weaknesses?"

"Hmm, I'd have to say . . . being a perfectionist."

"You're hired."

"Seriously?"

"Yep, welcome to the team."

"Ahh! I can't wait to tell my girlfriend!"

Of course, why does that always happen?

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Be here tomorrow at 8am sharp."

"You got it."

And just like that, she was gone. Another failed attempt. I just sighed and walked away with paperwork in hand. Now I had to look through her to do list, then I'm done for the day.

Wednesday was a blur; all I remember is a whole lot of shouting and papers being thrown, to which I had to pick up. Mey did well at work, and even impressed Maka. Which shocked everyone, even Maka. But did I get any credit? No! Damn that woman!

Thursday Mey brought her girlfriend to the set and I was getting to work on the cover story of our newest model. So much work and so little time, but at least Maka's been off my case lately. As a matter of fact, I haven't heard a single sound from her all day.

It's Friday, just a normal, everyday Friday that comes up every week . . . nothing new, until I walk into her office to see what needs to be done. There she is, curled up in a ball in the corner, crying her eyes out. Shit. I think to myself I can't help but feel sorry for her and ask her what happened. Apparently her OCD boyfriend had always made her feel symmetrical and beautiful, until she found him in her apartment with two other women who were far more gorgeous than her and fairly familiar. Their bodies were well curved and far fuller than her own; they were her latest "creations," two models she had known all her life and she had brought them to Vogue years ago and got them contracts. She thought they were her loyal friends until she found them in bed with her now ex lover. Maka may not show it but she has a major complex about her body and now she had just broken up with her "ideal/perfect guy." She needs some Ben and Jerry's BAD! I took her over to my apartment after work. Just until Kid moves out. I thought over and over again. I sat on the couch and offered her a seat. She snuggles into me and I try to avoid eye contact.

"Is there anyone you're interested in?"

Why the sudden question?

"No."

"Oh, I see." She looks away, and I'm confused. Why would she ask that, it's not like she cares. Or does she? But what would it matter to me! It's not like I have feelings for her. But I've never seen her cry, she looked so . . . miserable. I looked her over as she rested her angelic face on my chest, her large jade orbs looking into my eyes. I can't believe how perfect her face is, even if her eyes are red from crying, she was still . . . beautiful. I felt an irregular heartbeat and blushed, she smiled and snuggled into me, placing her hand on my chest and listened to my breathing. I ceased breathing for a moment at how chilled her skin was, then she says it.

"I've always liked you ya know." Maka's shaky voice emerged from under me.

"What? Then why did you always treat me like shit?" I was confused, flattered, and just plain pissed off at what she said.

"I thought it was my job to be the bitchy boss, plus I didn't want to let myself think of you in that way. I knew, know it's completely unprofessional with a boss and employee relationship. I've always wanted to stay professional at my workplace, until I caught a glimpse of you one day. It was raining and your shirt was soaked, luckily you had an extra and you took your other shirt off, I swear I was drooling, then Tsubaki caught me looking into our office and I blushed. I ran to the bathroom to cool my face off, but the scene just kept playing over and over again. I couldn't face you like that so I made myself hate you. And that's why I've been so mean to you over the years, so I wouldn't let myself believe how I feel about you was right."

Maka felt another tear roll down her cheek, as she tried to finish what she was getting at.

"And now I screwed everything up. The relationship with my parents, with Kid, with the Thompson sisters, and now you; I'm so sorry Soul." Her eyes were drenched in tears, and she pulled herself away, trying to run out the door. She couldn't stand to be in the same room with me, being so disgusted with herself.

"Maka wait!" I grabbed her hand before she could even make it past the couch. She couldn't look at me, but I reeled her in, forcing her to look up at me.

"Soul, please, just let me go. I shouldn't be here." Maka was struggling under my strong body, but she was failing. My arms wrapped around her, keeping her in place and bringing her into me. She couldn't breath, but she seemed to love the way I smelled, that leather and chocolaty smell that intoxicated her mind seven days a week.

"No Maka." My voice was stern and serious, yet my eyes were soft and pleading.

"Don't go." I hugged her, for the first time since we worked together, I made real physical contact with her and found why I shouldn't have done it.

Her scent was even more intoxicating than I ever imagined it to be in my wildest and erotic dreams. She smelt of sweet cream, strawberries, and pure flesh. My mouth watered when I smelt her strawberry shampoo, and when my hands touched her creamy, silky soft skin. She was invigorating and I was falling into her trap, but I didn't care anymore. I found my lips were tracing over each strand of hair, my hands slowly going down the curve of her back. She lied about her appearance, she was curvy all over and I found her voluptuous, not to the point that she should be modeling, but she wasn't giving herself enough credit. My hands finally stopped at her lower back, I felt her small hands were on my shoulders and moving to my strong neck. Her lips tracing over my collar bone, her senses picking up every curve and scent, but her mind was no longer functional. Maka looked up and found that same lustful look in my own eyes, reflecting every thought that had gone through her mind in the past five years.

"Soul?" Maka's voice was arousing and curious as to what would happen next.

"Bedroom?" I asked with a smirk across my lips, my shark-like teeth beaming a flirtatious smile, the one that always made her go weak in the knees.

I lifted her up bridal style and walked her to my bedroom, it was simple and the bed was luckily big enough for two. Maka found she was practically ripping off my shirt, and I tossed aside her blazer and quickly undid the buttons to her blouse. I was only in my pants now, my chest was completely exposed to her, and a large scare ran across my left shoulder to my right hip. My abs were perfect and strong, my arms long with muscles dispersed across them, and my neck was long and thick.

"Maka." My voice was stimulating and carried every tone of lust that my body felt.

I looked her over and felt my animal-like senses stirring when I saw the goddess before me. Her hair was a mess, free falling around her perfect diamond face; her tight white undershirt clinging to her perfectly sculpted torso and flat stomach. Her pencil skirt looked even tighter now that her shirt and blazer were off. It clung to her long and curvy legs; her medium sized hips were perfectly in balance with the rest of her body. She strutted over to me, swaying her hips and swinging her arms in perfect motion. I suddenly felt a hazy feeling come over me, like the first time I ever tried a shot of vodka. I smirked, my teeth filling up my face, I often smirked but this time it was a "goofy" in love smirk. My cheeks were rosy, my eyes set on Maka and her graceful strut, and my mouth, agape and practically drooling. Maka was giggling on the inside; unsure of how to read my expression and she just took it as a compliment. She finally reached me, held her hands out as I took them, and she stood there smiling and giggling.

"What?" My tone was confused and unaware of the fact of how "uncool" I looked, but I didn't care.

"Nothing, you're just so cute when you're not trying to be cool." Maka let out another giggle as I entwined my fingers with hers. My ruby orbs set on our hands, then slowly tracing up to her perfect jade eyes that shone with all the love in the world.

"I love you." She leaned her head against my chest, too embarrassed to look up.

"I love you too." I kissed the top of her head and led her over to the bed. We just laid there for a while, watching one another from time to time.

"We don't have to do this you know. I'd be happy just laying like this for a while." I whispered over to the hazy eyed Maka.

"I want to. I really do." Maka brought her lips to mine; gently letting them touch my skin.

I followed her lead and made my movements rougher and rougher, my hands slowly venturing over her body. That night was pure bliss, and as the sun slowly replaced the moon, we merely snuggled closer under the covers, our naked bodies entangled by the ivory sheets and our breathing slow and calm. We were as one, tightly woven together just for this purpose, to be with the one we loved.

"What are we going to tell everyone?" She asked.

"Who cares." I smirked and brought her in closer, letting sleep take over. All I can say is thank god it was the weekend, if it were any other day we would have never made it to work.