I'm getting back into writing and have a longer Soul Eater fic coming out soon, but I need a bit of a warm up. Just a short little one shot inspired by a reoccurring conversation between my roommate and myself.
Posted both on here and on my Tumblr account, scarlethousecarl.
It felt like years since were last home. Granted, they've only been gone a few days, but tracking a pack of crafty pre-kishin through the wilderness of the northern reaches of the Rocky Mountains drained them both into lethargy. Their eyes dull with fatigue, they dragged themselves up the stairs leaning on each other for support.
Once inside, packs are discarded, tattered clothes are removed, showers are taken, and their custom injury kit is brought out. Between their being accustomed to the other's body and the exhaustion, they didn't shy away from helping the other clean up, though pink dusted their cheeks with no small frequency throughout the process.
By the time they were finished cleaning the various scrapes they'd accumulated and treating the painful collection of blisters on their feet, it was closing in on 2 am. After Soul declares his intent to 'never wear those fucking boots ever again', he stands with Maka's help and they make their way to his room. Soul settles in and Maka crawls into bed after him. He didn't ask and she didn't supply a reason as they curl into each other.
Soul pulls her close and presses a kiss to her temple as he drifts off. Content in the warmth of her partner, Maka lays her head on his chest and her eyes slide shut.
The sound of glass shattering moments later has them snapping back open. Maka meets Soul's eyes as she pushes herself up off the bed. They listen to an intruder's footfalls roam about the other rooms of the apartment.
Maka's expression shifts into an one that Soul recognizes well from all his years of aggravating his meister and watching others do the same. Maka was positively thunderous. She's on her feet and storming forth to confront their burglar in the next breath.
They found him rummaging through the living room, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Soul watches as whatever mercy Maka held in her heart dissolves. Exhausted Maka is a ruthless Maka. It is in that moment, the thief turns and catches sight of them. The three stare at each other for a few beats before the man pales and sprints for the door.
Soul didn't know whether to be pissed that some punk decided that he could break into his and Maka's apartment or sorry for the stupid bastard. He didn't have long to ponder on that as Maka takes off after the invader, the thickest and subsequently heaviest hardcover book in the house clutched in her hand and a hoarse battle cry on her lips.
Soul sighs and calls the police before following after her to ensure that his feisty, sleep deprived partner doesn't add murder to the list of crap they would have to deal with.
The cops arrive on the scene about 20 minutes later to find the poor man with his skull almost perma-chopped into a bowl of grey matter cowering in the stairwell. Maka stood looming over him brandishing her book threateningly every time he tried to escape from the blonde firebrand. At the sight of the officers, the man practically begged to be taken to the precinct.
Soul gives them a quick statement and follows Maka back upstairs after instructing them to return in the morning. If he had to remain upright for one more minute, he'd finish what Maka started with what had to be one of the most unlucky thieves in history.
The pair fall back into bed together and are sleeping the sleep of the dead before their heads even hit the pillow.
A few days later, Blackstar presents to them a black sign declaring "Beware of Meister" in bright orange, cackling as he flees the blows descending falling in the form of Maka's textbook.