Hey there everyone! Another story for June as promised! Hope you all enjoy it!
Please Review!
Much Love!
E.T.
Chapter One: Grounds For Pleasure
She hates Kilik. With every goddamn fiber in her entirety of everything. She hates him because he mooched and then moved out; because he's the world's biggest fucking asshole and he took the fucking flat screen TV - that they both paid for - without so much as a word. So, yeah. She fucking hates the shit out of that unreliable dipshit.
It's been a week and three days and Maka has yet to find a roommate to replace the dickhead, which, not good, because her landlord is an unreasonable ass and she hates him, too. It's currently 3-fucking-o'clock in the morning and Maka is about to use her very last resource, saved for emergencies only. Craigslist was and is her worst enemy, but she has no other choice. Maka needs a roommate stat and she's exhausted every other fucking option known to mankind, so fuck it. She just prays to every god and spiritual entity that they can at least pay their rent on time, fucking motherfucker.
She sighs in a heavy, downtrodden sort of way before lifting her fingers to her laptop, beginning to type away at the keys. She's fucking trembling now because the last time she used Craigslist, she ended up spending two-hundred valuable dollars for a rat infested couch. What kind of asshole does something like that? Shit. And now she's re-realizing that there are some fucking crazies on here and she might end up living with one. Fan-fucking-tastic.
She quickly and unenthusiastically goes through the process of placing an ad for a reliable roommate who can pay four-hundred-and-fifty dollars a month, no gender preferred, alongside pictures of the apartment and what will be their room and private bathroom. She's pretty sure she's mentioned everything and checks to make sure she put in the e-mail address she made especially for fucking Craigslist before uploading it with a cringe.
Sighing again, like the whole goddamn universe is against her, she plugs in and turns off her laptop, sets a few alarms on her phone, and curls up under the covers. Thank God her landlord isn't evil enough to cut off any necessities like air conditioning or water … that or he's just so ancient that he completely forgot. She kind of hopes it to be both.
Hearing the alarm go off makes her want to cry because it's now 6:30 a.m. and that means she's only gotten about three hours of sleep, which kills, but she won't. Cry, that is. She refuses to. Maka hasn't cried since the day her Papa dropped her off at college two years ago (though she will never admit to any of it) and doesn't plan on breaking her streak anytime soon. She's a tough fucking cookie. So, she instead chooses to flip the bird in the general direction of the noisy beast atop her dresser. Maka gets out of bed with remorseful eyes, dark bags dramatically emphasizing it, and glares at the godforsaken alarm clock still going off across the room. She soon begrudgingly stands, stretches with an exaggerated yawn, and makes her way over to turn off the loud-as-all-fucking-hell ass alarm, having to actively talk herself out of smashing it up against the wall. It's going to be a long fucking day and she already needs coffee. She needs coffee now.
The next hour is dedicated to a long ass shower in which she must shave her long ass legs and attempt to muster enough vitality to make it through the day. Another alarm goes off, this time on her phone, signaling the half hour mark and she groans menacingly as she reaches for the faucet. Cold water wakes her up, but she fucking hates it. She stands under the winter cold water like a cat getting an unwanted bath, hissing and cursing up a storm, until her phone tells her that the hated five minutes are up. Now fully unable to return into the blissful world of la la land, she dries herself off and begins the gruesome task of hair and makeup. She hates her life, she hates her job, she hates college, and she hates Kilik.
Maka forces out a frustrated puff of air as she blasts music on her phone and sits at her vanity to quickly blow dry her long golden tresses and cake her face. Fucking society and its judgmental outlook on life ruins most of her days. She finishes with time to spare as she goes to wash her hands and hastily make a breakfast filling enough that she won't need to later bite someone's head off to satisfy her hunger. The 7:30 alarm goes off and she realizes that she is so awesomely ahead of schedule that today is fucked. Never has she ever had a good day when she's ahead or behind schedule. Now she begins to rush because something bad is going to happen, she knows it. Finishing her breakfast and changing into her prepared outfit for the day, she triple checks that she has everything that she needs only to check again.
She's standing at the front door, twenty minutes to spare, and she feels like she has forgotten what day of the week it is. Maka grinds her teeth as she glares at her half empty apartment before smartly bringing up her calendar on her phone. First thing she notices is that she forgot to charge said device last night, so she needs to grab her charger. Second, one of her evening classes requires the book that she almost left on the fucking kitchen counter, along with the notes for that class. And finally, her fucking pants don't fucking match, so she speeds to change. She really shouldn't pick out her clothes when half past dead.
She is once again standing at the front door, hair up in a high ponytail with her bangs meeting a perfect smokey eye, fitted jeans and black ankle high, two-inch heel boots on, a simple black shirt, and a grey jacket in hand. Now she's positive that she has everything that she needs and still has ten minutes on her side. Grimacing, she leaves her apartment, still feeling disturbed, and locks the door on her way out. She doesn't care for the pit in her stomach as she rides the elevator down four floors to the lobby. She also doesn't care for the old bat sitting behind the desk that looks like she's fucking twenty-two. The fuck. How does she do it? Maka has to find out. Checking the time again as she waits at the bus stop, Maka suddenly realizes what she forgot. Her fucking coffee. Fuuuck.
It's almost 10:45 a.m. which means her class is almost over and she's begun counting down the seconds because she is almost past her limit. She can only fake a 'genuine' and 'angelic' persona for so long before she cracks. She's been sitting in the same spot for almost an hour and a half and she has yet to indulge in an extra large black coffee. As she takes notes, she glances at the clock on the wall - which is six minutes behind - and begins to feel an itch. She isn't addicted to coffee per se, but it's all that she can think about at this current moment in time. So, when the prof finally dismisses class, she quickly and politely says her goodbyes to a few of her classmates and rushes to the best coffee shop on campus, Resonance Café.
It's quite a walk to the small, hidden shop, but this doesn't deter her. Her next class isn't until 12 noon, so she most certainly has the time. She turns the corner, long strides taking down the last stretch before coffee begins to invade her senses. Okay. Maybe she is just a tad bit addicted. She finally makes it to the door, enters on eager feet, and marches right up to the counter, patiently waiting for the barista. She looks around the small café, grinning at how few people inhabit the space. Those who know about Res keep it under wraps, mostly because they all enjoy privacy and not having to wait in line for longer than five minutes unlike at a certain other coffee place on campus. It's their own little getaway and, seeing as it isn't exactly easy to come across unless you're adventurous, there are only a few customers, all of which frequent it regularly.
As the barista takes her order, she hears the bell from the door jingle behind her, startling her slightly as it doesn't happen often. Maka watches as the girl taking her order continuously glances past her, obviously attracted to whoever just came in, but Maka doesn't have it in her to turn around at the moment. Whoever it is can wait until she's had at least two sips of her poison. She goes to stand over by the other counter for her large black coffee as she pulls out her phone. Perfection takes time, even if it's plain, and she's willing to wait.
As she stands there, leaning up against the wall, she feels a rather elevated entity come to stand next to her, but doesn't look over. He can wait. A few minutes pass and she can smell the newly brood coffee fill her nostrils, sighing in content. She busies herself on her phone in an attempt to distract herself as her mouth begins to water. Fuck it. She's definitely addicted.
The beautiful sound of the much-anticipated bell rings, signaling an order, as the barista announces, "Two black, large."
Maka and the tall person next to her step forward at the same time, almost as if they were in equal longing for their desired cup of the steaming bitterness that brings life and happiness. She sees a calloused hand reach up next to her as it grabs its cup and, as much as she just wants to take her coffee and go sit in her regular spot, she can't help but follow the hand as it retracts back toward its owner. This was a bad fucking idea. Now, Maka Albarn is left stunned as her eyes meet the overwhelmingly attractive stranger next to her. She finds herself gulping as his blood coloured orbs travel from his coffee, to hers, and then to her face, returning her gaze. She's sure she's blushing as he smirks at her and reaches up to grab her coffee. Wait.
'The fuck does he think he's doing?!' she internalizes, her brows crunching together until she hears him chuckle. Fuck. Now she's wet. Thanks for that, most captivating man she's ever seen. Thanks a bunch.
He seems to be doing it on purpose to distract her because now he's walking away with her coffee to … her favourite spot in the corner. She follows after him, confusion set in her features, and sits with a quiet, "Thank you," after he sets down their drinks and pulls out a chair for her. Great, he's a gentleman, too. She's probably already in love.
He helps scoot in her chair and goes to sit across from her. Without looking at her, he makes himself comfortable, picks up his coffee, and brings it to his mouth. He, for one, can not wait any longer to indulge apparently, so she follows right after him and takes a satisfying sip of her scalding, mouth-watering large cup of Joe.
"Soul." She sputters at the sudden and unexpected introduction, expertly saving any of her coffee from spilling. When she looks up from her timid coughing, she finds an amused expression cast over his features as he offers her a napkin. Well played, gallant hotty. Well played.
She gulps again, because oh, Lord, are his eyes piercing through her with deathly persuasion. She doesn't know what he's selling, but she'll buy all of it.
"Maka." She returns as she awkwardly shakes the hand holding out the napkin before taking it to dab at her lips.
"Interesting name." Whether he's complimenting her or not, she doesn't much care, as she's still finding it hard to believe that he had been so silently forward. She thinks on that for a moment. Why exactly had he decided to sit with her without a word? Well, she internally shrugs her shoulders because, hey, she's being blessed enough to sit across from this exceedingly handsome man. She shouldn't question it.
"I could say the same." She shoots back, lacking any real venom. This earns her another one of those panty-wetting, lip-biting rumbles from deep within his chest as he drags his index finger around his coffees to go lid, that seductive smirk in place. He's making her unfocused and she's unsure of how that makes her feel.
"I meant because of it's meaning." He explains."I wasn't expecting to be drinking my coffee with an earth goddess today." Wow. Looks and brains, not to mention his genteel disposition. She's fucked.
His phone vibrates in his pocket before she can reply and he pulls it out to check it after a quick "Excuse me a moment". This gives her a minute to scan her emerald eyes over his face through her bangs as his screen holds his attention. Frankly, it's the perfect time to gawk at him. Soul is tremendously attractive and suave, it's almost unbelievable. He's wearing a faded orange t-shirt under a black jacket, a dog chain hanging from his neck, paired with dark blue jeans and black tennis shoes. His unruly white hair contrasts against his slightly tanned skin as it's held back by a thin, black headband. His jawline is rigid and his cheekbones are high, and she can tell that he had just shaved that morning, because his skin is smooth, smooth, with not even a subtle sign of debris from high school acne. She hates him for it, but not really. She's currently too enthralled with him to care, if she's being honest.
All too suddenly, she's forced to look down as he makes to put his phone away, his focus on her once again. Note to self: his eyes are a force to be reckoned with.
"So, Maka," he begins, waiting for her to meet his charming gaze, "large black?" She knows he's asking about her coffee, obviously slightly taken aback by how such a small, young woman chooses to drink something more commonly known as a 'manly' substance. It's the careful placement of tone in his words, however, that makes her second guess. It's almost as if he's daring her to find the innuendo hidden within his seemingly innocent question. She observes him for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee to give her some time as she looks for a tell-tale. His left eyebrow raises a tad as she notices how he tries to hold back a grin. Adorable.
"Yes." She finally answers. "It's a preference only a few people enjoy. You as well I see." He hides a short by licking and biting his bottom lip at her last few words. Damn, that's distractingly sexy.
"I'll shoot for a small, cream filled drink when the urge hits me." Now she's the one holding back a snort at his obvious insinuation. He has a sense of humour to boot. Someone catch her because she's falling fast.
"No sugar?" she asks, giving him her full attention by leaning forward on the table, placing her drink in front of her. He drags his crimson up her body - slowly - and she's gulping again. He sits up, mimicking her posture.
"On occasion, though I prefer it bitter." Now, she's giggling, like a young school girl. What has he done to her? "What about you, Maka? Ever find yourself craving something creamy?" he's leaning in a bit more, 'cause his wildly lanky body allows him to do so, and smiles at her. His teeth are so clean and white, but what shocks her is how shark-like they are. It's captivating and she can't help but wonder what they would feel like on her neck.
"I do." She answers simply, averting her shamrock orbs, as she can't take looking at him much longer without fear of being completely absorbed. "I'll take it large with lots of cream and sugar from time to time."
He laughs then, surprisingly grabs her phone and opens it - she really needs to set a password - and hands it back to her after a minute.
"I have a class soon, so sadly, I have to get going. Call me when your craving turns creamy." And then he grabs her hand and brings it to his lips, giving it a slow, punctuated, and firm kiss to her knuckles before smirking at her again. He lingers for only a second before grabbing his coffee, winking at her, and making his way out of the café.
And, of course, she's left a blushing mess, the ever unbecoming hue of tomato. Ahhh, her old friend. She allows herself to blank for a few minutes before gasping and checking the time on her phone. Shit. It's a quarter till noon and she can't be late for this class. She quickly grabs her belongings and rushes out the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she finds Soul still outside, leaning back against a fucking motorcycle as he nonchalantly sips at his coffee. His head turns at the sound of the bell and grins at her.
"Need a ride?" he asks. She doesn't know how he knew, and she doesn't much care, but she is immensely grateful.
"Yes, please." She lets herself smile naturally, something that doesn't happen often, and watches him grab two helmets. He motions for her to come over, to which she complies, and gently pulls out her ponytail to put his white extra helmet on her head. She worked hard on that high pony, dammit, but somehow, she doesn't mind one bit. He pats her head after having finished securing the strap under her chin and places black protection on his own head.
"Hop on." He says as he lifts his leg over the seat. "Steer clear of the pipe, it's still hot."
'That's not the only thing that's hot.' He is fucking sexy as shit and, looking at him, she doesn't know why she thought today would be a bad day. She's actually glad that she forgot to drink coffee this morning. Ever so carefully, she gets on the bike, wrapping her arms around his middle and, woah, is he ripped, goddamn.
"Here." He grabs the coffee that's awkwardly in her hand and reaches back behind her after pushing a button. She watches as he turns slightly, his arm sliding against her side, and places it in a fucking cup holder hidden under the movable seat cushion. After closing said movable seat cushion, he revs up the engine and kicks back the kick stand.
"Hold on tight!" he yells cooly over the loud sound of mechanics and takes off.
Holy fuck is he hot.
Maka dwells on how the ride to class had ended too soon for her liking throughout the rest of her day. Soul having had exchanged the helmet for her coffee, winking at her again, and taking off for his own class left her a bit sad. Okay, more than a bit, but she's still beside herself with how that sexy mo-fo had given her his number.
She's currently on the bus back to her apartment, sighing in content as she stares at the number on her phone screen. She wants to text him, but doesn't want to seem desperate. When would be an acceptable amount of time to wait before contacting him? She sighs again, a little less content with her current predicament. This whole flirting thing is hard.
She hears the bus driver announce that her stop is next and prepares to get off and speed to her part time job around the corner. It's going to be a long night and she has a lot of homework, but a hot guy with a hot name and a hot ride gave her his number, so, in retrospect, her day can't be ruined.
She enters her workplace five minutes before 8 with a bit more energy than usual, which doesn't go unnoticed by her co-workers.
"Someone got some last night." Liz coos as she waltzes by.
"No, she didn't! Right, Maka? Why would you even say something like that?" Maka rolls her eyes at Hiro before grabbing her apron and putting her bag behind the counter.
"A lady doesn't kiss and tell." She states casually as she clocks in.
"Ouh lá lá, someone's hiding some good dirt. Spill." Eruka chimes in.
"There is nothing to spill, but there are spills to clean," Maka shrugs. Turning to go clean a table, she runs into a large chest.
"My bad, Maka. You good?" She would usually swoon if Justin so much as glanced in her general direction, much less make physical contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn't look as stunning as he normally does. Strange.
"Yeah, sorry. I should have looked where I was going." She replies with a small smile, moving to the side. He passes by her with a quizzical look and a slight nod, taken aback momentarily by her unexpected response. She isn't habitually this at ease around him, very few girls are comfortable around the Justin Law. She goes back to wiping down sticky surfaces, leaving her other co-workers to stare after her, a bit baffled. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so nonchalant around hot men and uppity at work, but for whatever reason, they left her to her own devices.
Maka is now on break and can't help but take out her phone to pull up her newly added contact to stare at. Soul's number is slowly eating away at her and she's finding it hard to make a decision. What would she even say if she did text him? 'Hey, I'm craving creamy'? Yeah, right. She sighs and leans on the table in front of her.
"What's that?" Liz makes her jump.
"When did you get there?" She turns, finding Hiro, Liz, and Justin behind her.
"Hiro and I were made curious by your suspicious behavior. Eruka, too, but she's watching the floor." She explains. They all awkwardly look to Justin.
"I'm on break, too." He answers the unspoken question before going to sit down at the table, a bag of food in tow.
"So, who's Soul?" Hiro interjects hastily.
"Oh, calm your tatas, Maka's wannabe boyfriend, and let the professional handle this." This makes Maka chuckles sadistically, earning the returned attention of everyone in the room, before turning to look at Liz seriously.
"You'll never break me."
Semi-short chapter, hope for later chapters to be longer.
So, what did you guys think? Let me know your thoughts!
Much Love!