A/N: I literally wrote this at about around 3:00 in the morning, but I think it turned out pretty good, though feel free to review and I'll update the things that I probably messed up on(Haha). As usual, I had sleep troubles, and the idea kind of popped in my brain and started to flow as I thought of it. I didn't want to lose it, so here it is! I also want to add, even though this is technically my second fanfic, I'd like to think of this one as my first because I'm not really happy(meaning I dislike it immensely)with my real first one but I'm keeping it up for the people that seem to. It's still, though, a first story. For Soul Eater, that is, so me hopes I got all the details right. Ahh, sorry for the long note!
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.
On with the story! Enjoy!
It was an unexpected turn of events.
He didn't do it for kicks or as an experiment, it just happened on instinct. He was used to being alone; he adapted and opted to live that way for the rest of his life. He never expected to become flooded with newfound friends and especially her. She was the one who affected him the most.
He acted like he didn't care. At first. In the beginning, to him, she was just his wielder, the one who would turn him into a kickass death scythe. He should have known better. Then again, who would even think twice about going after a nerdy, flatchested bookworm? It had to be him, of course.
But there was something about her that was so…enticing. He caught himself staring, at her long, ash blonde locks, the way they streamed down her shoulders, and even when they were up in their signature pigtails. Who cares if they were childish, he thought they looked fucking cute on her.
And who cared about her lack of chest. He didn't. They may be small, but they were perfect, to him. The way her legs protruded from under that goddamn tiny miniskirt of hers drove him crazy. And her curves, her delicious curves. He found it excruciatingly hard to not just drive her up against the wall, trapping her wrists on both sides of her head, and kiss her, hard, all the while running his hands over her sides.
It became harder and harder to contain himself. He just couldn't help himself. He would plan and do the weirdest of things just so he could feel her fingertips brush softly against him. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore. She always said he had a loose screw in his brain. Light pecks became full on make out sessions, and the best part about it: she didn't seem to mind, not one little bit. At least, he was pretty sure; she was kissing him back, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around his neck, complete with giggling and moans, unless she was one hell of an actor.
He never would've imagined falling in love. It was out of the question. But now, she's changed his entire world. The way he thinks, the way he does things, he can't get her out of his head. And it doesn't irritate him at all, he likes it and he never wants the feeling to ever go away.
It's been going on for awhile. Nobody, not even themselves could name their own relationship. Sure, they were meister and weapon, but past that? They couldn't be called friends but they couldn't be called boyfriend and girlfriend either. Until he opened his big mouth.
It was just another ordinary day, back at the apartment. It was late Saturday night, and the pair could be found in their living room, wide awake sitting on the couch watching tv together, that is, until he snuggled closer to her. She didn't seem to mind, but actually encouraged it, putting her arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer, pecking his forehead. He wasn't the only one who was containing himself, apparently she was too. She lay on her back with Soul on top kissing the breath out of her, when she heard him say it, "I love you". She could see his eyes widen immediately after he said it, but she knew he genuinely meant it. So she smiled back at him and hugged him to her, whispering in his ear, "I love you, too".