Soul sighed.

Lately, there's been this... girl. This girl that he couldn't stop staring at. This girl that he couldn't stop his heart beating for. This girl that... that just took his breath away.

Almost as if he was in love.

Geez, even just seeing her smile with those adorable black dopey eyes or laughing with that angelic voice of hers was enough to fill his head with mushy awe and drunken admiration. When that happened, all he could think of was her and that she was gorgeous, all he could say was a mix between an accidental compliment and a tease or at worst, a slur of words. Or maybe it was better to say that a slur of words was what he could manage at best.

Right now he couldn't even focus on studying quietly in his room, because every single time he did something else his thoughts somehow trailed back to that girl. That girl was just always on his mind. It was like a disease, a plague - and if this was what being drunk felt like, then surely he would become an addict. But then again, he was already addicted to her, wasn't he?

To Maka, that is.

Looking at his books made him think that oh, she's probably going to ace the test tomorrow, or this pencil is hers, I should return it, only to realize that he's been holding it for six months because he didn't want to. Her cute bite marks were left all over the eraser from the times she had been thinking so harshly, and he couldn't quite let go it. Then he'd pick it up, trail a finger along its edges and lightly press it to his lips.

Every time he did that he had no idea why he did it, and every time it happened he ended up using it. Then by the end of the night he'd have been so focused on Maka and her concentrating face in his memories which led to even more of her random moments that he'd have fallen asleep, having forgotten that he had to study.

Then the next day he'd wake up, get dressed, get ready for school again, and everything would be fine. Until, of course, he went out his room and bumped into Maka, in her cute yellow apron and breakfast in hand. After that he wouldn't be able to think about anything else, and so after eating he'd have to take a look at the secret notebook he had prepared for occasions such as this, which told him what to say and what to do, what to bring and what to wear. He even had to write down what order to do them in, and without it surely he wouldn't be able to survive the mornings.

Oh, yes. That was just in the morning. As if that was bad enough he couldn't even focus during the afternoon. Or on second thought, maybe school was easier. He got distracted by Tsubaki and Black Star as well as the teachers (or as much as he could be, anyway - he always found himself watching that girl instead). But on the off-chance that Maka decided to call his name during a lesson, suddenly he wouldn't be able to speak. The words were all there in his mind, perfectly prepared and rehearsed several times over in preparation for that very moment, but everything would come undone and unravel because of the way she looked at him. It didn't matter the angle, it didn't matter the expression. Nothing mattered, as long as it was her.

And don't even get him started on when classes were over. Because dinner? Dinner was the worst of it, so he had to prepare not a notebook, not an alarm or a slap to the face (or maybe ten, he constantly loses count), but ink writings on his arm or else he'd basically become a sloppy mess of puppy love. In permanent. Ink. Of course, that would mean looking actually looking at it. But that was a disaster because he couldn't even do it. He couldn't tear his gaze from those big, round orbs and that cute, petite face of hers. He couldn't refuse the chance to see her smile or laugh even if it happened everyday. How could he? She was just too perfect. So yeah, every single night was a disaster. He couldn't do anything but agree with all she had to say, barely putting up a fight when he tried. Luckily for him, it seems Maka still hasn't noticed so he's in the safe for now, but he didn't know how long that would last.

Leaning into his chair, Soul craned his neck to stare at the blue ceiling above him. Even now, all he could do was just think about that girl, he thought. It was like he was drunk or plagued by her, and everything he did led back to her.

He sighed. He really needed a cure for this. Otherwise, she'd just continue to steal his breath away and he would eventually forget - forget how to breathe oxygen, and if Maka wasn't around then he wouldn't have the air he needed. He wouldn't be able to live without her, and he was already having a hard enough time without her by his side.

Almost as if he was in love.

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Whew! Another story done. Actually, had this finished just last night, but I couldn't post it right away because I was supposed to be asleep. Anyway, as always, hope you enjoyed the first part of this cute lil' two-shot, and thanks for reading!

- animellow