Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters-they belong to Atsushi Okubo. Also, warning: This story contains subjects of physical/sexual abuse. If this is a sensitive topic for you, I suggest not reading. Thank you and please be safe. SoMa Week Day 6: Promise. (This will be a series and it'll make more sense why this prompt goes along with it as more chapters are released!)
XxX
He was once told every cloud has a silver lining. Well, he was never one for optimism, and these clouds looked more gray than silver to him.
"What's up with the weather today? Geez..." Soul grumbled as he filled up his bottle of water from the sink. His irritated gaze fell on the window, where outside the clouds seemed to just get closer and closer, darker and darker. Of course he picked today to start a jogging routine. He shut off the faucet and twisted the cover back on his bottle. He snatched his phone and ear buds off of the coffee table and shoved them in his pocket. Before he left, he leaned down to tie his sneakers. Preoccupied by his bad mood, he did not do a very good job of it. He exited his apartment, forgetting to lock the door behind him.
As he walked down the stairs and opened the door to the outside, a gush of wind hit him full force. He cursed, having to hold on to the door to keep it from going flying out of his hand and slamming against the wall. When it passed, he could tell his hair was a disheveled mess atop his head. He closed the door with a little more force than was meant.
Luckily for him, his apartment building was near a section of forest. Within it were trails, so Soul decided to take one, partly because it was convenient, partly because no one could give him strange looks regarding his white, wind whipped mop he tried to call hair. Stopping at the entrance of a trail, he put his bottle down and began to stretch. A shiver ran up his spine, and he silently spewed profanities at the clouds for blocking the warm sun. When he was finished, he popped in some ear buds and selected a jazz piece from his music library on his phone.
About ten minutes into his run, Soul regretted it. He was tired, and the shitty weather was not helping at all. He just wanted to go back home and watch some stupid T.V. show. He was only doing this because his friend, Black Star, beat him in a race and mocked him for being too slow.
"Tch. What a child," Soul complained to himself. His mood kept getting worse and worse. He looked to the speckled bits of sky between the leaves of the surrounding trees and saw nothing but gray. It didn't seem Mother Nature had any plans to help him today.
Another ten minutes passed and Soul had tripped on his shoelaces twice. He swore and kicked a tree the second time, Mother Nature be damned. He was convinced whatever God was out there was punishing him for, well, who knows what? He wasn't exactly an angel, that was for damn sure. Maybe it was for flipping that rude guy on the street the bird yesterday. Probably not; he had that coming.
Soul decided the only way this was going to get better is if he calmed himself down. He closed his eyes for a moment as he ran and listened to the music notes playing through his ear buds. That was a mistake, because just after he lost sight of his environment, Mother Nature decided to get her revenge and flipped him the bird in the form of a root to his toes. He fell for the third time in less than thirty minutes.
"Damn it!" he shouted, sitting up. He ripped the buds from his ears and put his face in his hands. He felt something warm and wet on his skin, and when he pulled his hands away, he saw blood on his palms. He realized his face's impact on the hard dirt made his nose bleed. He sighed and looked up toward the sky, only to feel a drop of rain hit him between the eyes.
"That's it. I'm going home," he said as he lifted himself off the ground. He wiped the dirt from his pants and started walking at a quick pace in the direction he had come. A few angry steps later, he saw a pair of large green orbs staring at him from the side of the trail. He stared back for a moment, caught up in the vibrancy, before gravity brought him face to face with the ground yet again. Just as he was about to yell out another swear, he heard a soft voice calling out to him.
"Oh, my God. Are you okay?" it spoke. Soul flipped on his back to find the source. Above him, those clover eyes gazed worryingly into his. They almost blended into the color of the leaves on the trees above their head. He could see the wind was causing the leaves to shake violently, but the noise was muffled in his ears.
"You're bleeding," the person said again, their hand reaching out to wipe the blood from his earlier spill off of his face. He broke out of his trance and knocked the hand away.
"I'm fine," he replied sharply. He sat up and looked properly at the person who had prompted his fourth meeting with the earth. A girl with blonde pigtails was kneeling beside him, an annoyed look on her face.
"You're not fine, idiot. You're bleeding. God, just let me help you," she snapped. Soul grimaced, noting that she was not a very nice girl. She stood up and held out her hand. Despite the childish hairdo, she looked to be around his age.
"Look, I said I'm okay," he snarled. He got up, ignoring the assistance offered to him and wiped the blood on his sleeve. "Thanks for your concern."
He turned and started to walk away. After a moment, he heard footsteps behind him, but continued walking, knowing it was only her. He thought she'd give up eventually. He was wrong.
"Would you quit following me?" he seethed. He stopped in his tracks and spun around to face her. Just as he was about to bark at her some more, there was a low rumble of thunder and rain began to pour down on them. Forgetting about the girl, he ran as fast as he could to get home and out of the storm. Fortunately, his apartment building was close.
"Phew," he said once he got under the shelter of the small roof over the entrance. He slapped his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He heard someone else beside him breathing heavily along with him and shifted his eyes over in the direction it was coming from.
There was the girl, now holding a book in one hand, standing next to him.
"What the hell? Did you follow me all the way to my house?" he hollered at her. She held her pointer finger up to his face to signal for him to wait, still trying to catch her breath. This annoyed Soul more, and he smacked her hand down, causing her to flinch.
"Why are you following me?" he asked sternly. The girl finally stood up straight and stared him down.
"First of all," she began. "I was never following you. That trail is a dead end, so I was just going the only way I could to get out of the woods."
"Okay, but-"
"Second of all," she continued. "How could I have possibly known this was your house? We just met, and besides, this was the closest place nearby with shelter from the storm."
Soul squinted his eyes at her and furrowed his brow. Then, he took a deep breath and calmed himself down.
"Whatever. Just go home, okay?" he said to her.
"Fine," she scoffed. Soul shook his head, then turned the knob of the door handle and entered the building.
When he reached the base of the steps, he took one last look out the small window in the door. He didn't know what to expect, but there she still was, shoulders hunched and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was hugging herself, hands rubbing up and down her arms to create warmth. Her head turned side to side as if she were looking for something, her soaked pigtails slapping her neck. Shit.
"Come in," he sighed, holding the door open. The girl's face lit up instantaneously, then she hurried through the entrance. He led her to the stairwell, climbing three sets before coming into a brightly lit hallway. Soul looked back at the blonde behind him. She was inspecting the place with a happy smile. He rolled his eyes.
"Here's my..." he trailed off as they neared his door. It was open. He remembered he hadn't locked it. He rushed over to it and looked inside.
"Shit!" he shouted. His belongings were all over the place. He bolted around the apartment, checking all the places he kept his valuables. After his search, it appeared that his gold watch was stolen, half of his records were gone, and the expensive leather jacket he'd saved up for for months was missing from his closet.
"What happened here?" the girl questioned as she poked her head through the doorway.
"I was robbed," Soul groaned, defeated. He dropped onto his couch and ran his hands through his tangled hair. Today was officially the worst. He put his middle finger up to the ceiling, hoping God would see it.
"Shouldn't you call the police?" she asked as she sat on the couch beside him.
"I don't see why. They didn't take anything the police could use to track them down with," he answered. For a minute, they both sat in silence.
"Agh! Today couldn't get worse!" he burst out, jumping up from the couch. "First, the weather sucks, then I get a bloody nose, then I meet you, and now this."
"Huh? What do you mean 'you met me'? I've only been trying to help," the girl retorted, standing up to take a step toward him as if to challenge him to a fight. They stared at each other for a second, noses an inch apart and rage in both of their eyes, when suddenly a bright flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder interrupted their quarrel. The lights went out and they were standing in pitch black darkness.
"Oh, great," Soul muttered. The girl said nothing. He left the room to find anything he could use to light his apartment. The girl sat back down on the couch, arms crossed against her chest.
"Do you want help or would you think I was stalking you?" she shouted to him from the other room. Soul clenched his fists. He was positive veins were visibly swelling on his forehead. Damn, this chick could infuriate him. He thought maybe it would have been better for his blood pressure to leave her outside. He kept looking around and eventually discovered a flashlight in the cabinet under the kitchen sink and half a dozen candles in the bathroom closet. A container of matches was hidden behind a cereal box on the kitchen counter.
"Here," he said, offering the girl the flashlight. She took it, turned it on, and shined it around the room. Soul set up the candles around the apartment, placing two in the living room with the girl. After he was finished, he came back and sat in a chair opposite of her.
"Look, I'm sorry," he began. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just having a really bad day."
The girl looked him up and down with an irritated look before finally accepting his apology. "It's fine. I get it," she said. "I'm Maka, by the way."
"Soul."
"Well, Soul, you still have blood on your face," Maka said as she got up and looked around, the light of the device in her hand following the path of her head turns. She eventually discovered the bathroom, went in, and came back with a facecloth.
"Give me your water bottle," she demanded, her hand out, palm up, waiting for him to comply. He picked the bottle up from its resting place on the floor and placed it in her hand. She twisted the cap off, covered the opening with the cloth, and tilted the bottle upside down.
"I can do this myse-"
"Shut up," Maka snapped at him. She knelt down in front of him so they were eye level, took his face in one hand, and began working to wipe away the blood with the other. Soul winced at times, but Maka kept going. Soul moved his gaze around so he didn't end up staring at her and making things awkward, but that quickly backfired. His eyes soon found their way to her white, soaked, button-up shirt. The fabric was just wet enough that the pattern of her bra was showing through.
"Whoa, your nose suddenly started to bleed again. I though it had stopped..." Maka said, surprised.
"Okay, I think I can take care of this," Soul spluttered, taking the cloth from her grasp and rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He held the damp cloth to his nose, taking deep breaths as it soaked up the fresh blood. He returned fairly quickly, sitting back down on the chair. Maka was back on the couch, unable to see the pink covering his cheeks.
"Thanks for the help," he said, his voice cracking at the last word. He was purposefully not looking at her. Maka nodded, then shifted her gaze down to her hands. Soul noticed the book on the couch next to her.
"Were you reading out there?" he asked her. Maka nodded again. "Sorry about your book. It's probably all wet," he continued. She shrugged. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind earlier, but now she was being awfully quiet. Soul sighed, then reached into his pocket to check if his phone was all right. It was empty. He panicked, frantically searching all of his pockets in his sweatpants and sweatshirt. All of them were empty.
"Of course," he whispered. He looked out his window at the storm as another booming thunderclap filled the air. He knew he'd probably have to buy a new phone.
"Hey," Maka spoke. "Do you have any clothes I could borrow?"
Soul's face turned as red as the blood he'd just cleared off of it.
"S-Sure. Just give me a second," he stuttered. He got up and went to his bedroom to grab a pair of blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt, being careful to avoid another white shirt incident. He returned to the living room and gave her the clothes, still keeping his eyes elsewhere. She took them and went into the bathroom. Soul realized he should probably change too or he might catch a cold, so he returned to his room to get another pair of sweatpants and t-shirt and began to remove his soggy attire.
"Hey, Soul. Should I just leave my wet clothes hanging on the-" Maka stopped. Soul had not closed his door, so Maka walked in on him just as he had pulled his pants down to his feet. The flashlight in her hand was shining directly at him and his heart-pattern boxers. They looked at each other, their faces gradually heating up like a pot of water set to boil on a stove.
"I'm sorry! The door was open so I thought-" she stammered, turning around and closing the door behind her.
"T-That was my fault. Don't worry about it," he managed to say back.
"So m-my clothes?"
"Just hang them on the shower rod."
"Okay. G-G-Got it."
Soul heard her footsteps get quieter as she made her way back to the bathroom. He hadn't moved from his position, his fingers still gripping the belt of his wet pants. He processed what had just happened, taking a few minutes to let himself get over the embarrassment. After successfully changing without any more accidents, he brought his wet garments to the bathroom to hang up. However, when he turned into the doorway he was greeted by the sight of Maka's bra swinging gently on the rod.
"Polka-dots..." Soul breathed. He shook his head, then proceeded to throw his clothes over the shower rod as far away from Maka's as possible.
When he entered the living room, Maka was fidgeting with a corner of her book. Soul gulped. He looked at the clock hanging on his wall.
"It's getting late and it doesn't look like the storm is going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe you should spend the n-night here," Soul offered. He didn't know what he was saying anymore.
There was a pause before Maka replied. "I'd hate to impose..." she trailed off.
"Are you kidding? There's no way I'm letting you go back out there," he insisted. Another pause, this one longer than the first, then she nodded reluctantly. He felt relieved, although he wasn't sure why. "You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch."
Maka snapped her head up at him. "No, that's okay. I can sleep here," she chirped, patting the couch with her hand.
"Nah, that wouldn't be cool of me to let you sleep on that lumpy thing," he said. He was way past trying to be cool at this point. "Come on."
This time the silence was almost never-ending. Soul watched as she fiddled with her book some more, the flimsy pages falling victim to her anxious fingers.
"Okay," she finally agreed. Together, they shuffled down the hall to his room. "Goodnight, Soul," she murmured before closing the door.
"Goodnight."
Soul walked back to the living room, grabbed a blanket splayed over the arm of the couch, lay down, and fell asleep. The polka-dot pattern of Maka's bra filled his thoughts as he drifted off.