She was made of the stuff that drove men crazy. Her hair smelled like apple cider and honey, her skin like autumn. The way she swayed like a light summer breeze gave way to the looks that held the heat of a thousand suns. Her kisses were gifts like Trojan horses. Her words were roses on a string; so beautiful, so fragile, and fast to wither. Maka shut the book with a huff; she wasn't "made of the stuff that drove men crazy."
She sighed, she wasn't superficial enough to let that bother her. She only needed to make one man crazy. Right now that particular man was making her sit out in front of the basketball courts in this heat. Her straight dark blonde hair fell teasingly on her neck, it was up in a messy bun and the strays were striking her sweaty skin.
Maka's gaze drifted from the leathery cover of her romance novel to the group of teenagers that was bouncing a ball around in a quick skirmish. She brought her knees up to rest her head upon. She felt the moisture pooling in the alley of her breasts and her white tank-top begin to stick to all sorts of places. She let out another sigh sending a strand of hair flying from her eyes upward.
She observed everyone carefully, they had all grown so much since the last time they were able to get out here and play. She remembers it clear as day, the summer after they had saved the world. She laughed a little out loud at how silly that sounded in her head, a group of kids, they were kids, could say they saved the world.
Tsubaki and Liz she could say with certainty were the least changed, Patty had caught up to her sister in stature, as she fully expected her to since they were only a year apart. The boys however had shot straight up, BlackStar, Kid, and Soul all towered above them and used their added height in every way they could to get advantage over the girls. Unfortunately for them, the girls had Patty and she could easily by herself be a team in her own right.
As for Soul… she could write pages upon pages of diary entries of the transformation his appearance had undergone these last three years. She noticed every detail, she'd watched it happen before her eyes. His shirt was off now, hanging out of one of his pants pockets, his hot, tan skin glistened with sweat and she watched as he caught a ball in mid-air and the muscles moved under his skin. Maka bit her lip, she swore he dragged her out here today to torture her; because surely he knew, he knew what she thought of him, what she felt for him. He wanted to publically seduce her just so she couldn't do anything about it. At that moment, Soul's crimson eyes locked with hers and he shot her a cocky smirk. He knew just how to play.