Haha, it's been so loooong! I posted this on tumblr, and I actually liked it. So here it is!

I hope you guys like it too!

"Where ya going?"

Maka snapped her head up from her suitcase, red eyes scrutinizing her very existence. A pair of old trouser hung limp in her hands, and guilt weighed heavy on her heart.

"Um, just a trip. It won't be long."

She held Soul's gaze evenly, praying that he would just leave it alone. She didn't need him here— didn't want him here.

He nodded slowly, raising a hand to brush a lock of silver blond hair into the inside of his cap.

"Right, right. And would that trip be to the barricade?"

She gripped the brown trousers tight in her small hands. She couldn't hide anything from him, that perceptive bastard.

She took a sharp breath and tried to stop the argument before it began. "Soul, I have to go. You know I have to."

"No, you don't." His was steady, calm. But his eyes were wracked with a heartbreaking turmoil. "It's a fucking suicide mission, and you know it."

"But people are dying! People don't have food, clean clothes, or homes!" Maka dropped the pants and stood up, the skirt of her maroon dress weighing heavy on her body. She only came up to his chin, but she stood tall and proud, knowing that she was right. "I'm going, and you can't stop me." Fire burned in her eyes and soul. She needed to do this.

His eyes pierced her soul, his silence filling the room. His jaw twitched, and his shoulders tended. He stared at her long and hard, but he finally conceded.

He chuckled tiredly, his hand rubbed the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that only Maka knew about. "The mere whisper of revolution and you come running, little angel. I guess I'm coming with you."

The bitter taste of fear rose in her throat, suffocating her. He wasn't supposed to come—he was supposed to stay safe. That was the whole point of her going in secret! He wasn't supposed to know about this!

Her anxieties written on her face because Soul walked to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Maka, stop it. Someone's gotta keep your reckless ass safe." He laughed and took his cap off his head, revealing his unruly hair. He pressed it into her hands, closing his fingers around hers. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're a girl with your pretty hair, would we?"

—-

He always did that, flirted shamelessly with her. Granted, she did it even more. More so to the point where she didn't even think Soul thought she was being serious. The fool could never tell she felt more than platonic feelings for him.

The rotting floorboards creaked underneath her feet as she moved towards a chair by the wall. Her head was buzzing and her chest ached for something that wasn't there. Nothing in this moment felt real. Everything was fading into a dull gray. The vibrant colors of freedom and love dissipated into something she didn't know how to form into words.

Everything felt numb.

The room before her was devoid of all warmth. Shards of broken bottles were strewn all over the floor and loose paper dances on top of the breeze like there was no care in the world. Sunlight filtered through the room, illuminating the dust that painted glass of the windows and the tops of the tables.

The distant murmur of women chatting, mourning in the streets below rang in Maka's ears, but all she heard was silence.

All it did was shine a light on how silent it was in this room, how alone she was.

Her eyes drifted to an overturned chair closer to the middle of the room. Images of a boisterous, crude, absolutely annoying man came into her mind. He was an insufferable brute, but he had an intense fire that burned in his sea green eyes every time he bellowed about how he would keep his goddess safe.

He was a god and he wanted to create a world where his goddess, a bright and shining star in an overwhelmingly beautiful galaxy, could sleep happily at night and could walk the streets without fear of being harmed.

The table next to the chair had imprints of footprints that shaped the dust, and Maka's mouth twitched upward with fond remembrance. With streaks of gray that obviously highlighted by black, the poor man tried to reign in everyone's excitement and enthusiasm. They were about to go to war; they needed to remain diligent and focused. Now was not the time to act like fools and celebrate a battle not yet won.

He wanted to see a world where there was peace and balance. A true justice would be served, he would make sure of that.

And there was Soul. The man with the face of cold, apathetic indifference and a heart of pure gold. He was the man who fought by her side because he was determined to keep her safe. He was the man she was in love with, but didn't have the courage to tell him because she didn't want to lose him.

Maka didn't realize it, but cold and bitter tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her dirty, bloodstained cheeks. With trembling fingers, she reached up and grasped the well-worn fabric of her—Soul's—cap and clutched it close to her chest. Blonde hair that could have been mistaken for brown cascaded down her back in tangles.

She could feel his warm, strong hands that were meant for beautiful creation and not violence and war wrap around her own. She could hear his voice, low in her ear.

"Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're a girl with your pretty hair, would we?"

A bitter laugh that came out as a choked sob ripped from her throat. Maka wiped furiously at her tears, taking the entire room in, breathing in the old scent of stale beer and parchment. If only he saw her now. He wouldn't call her hair pretty then.

She brought the cap up to her face, the metallic scent of blood and gunpowder wafting through her nose. She held onto it, so tight that the burning pain of her nails biting into her skin radiated through her hands and her knuckles turned white. She wanted to scream, she wanted to let the entire world know that the goddamned law killed her friends and the last of her freedom.

Maka crumpled to the ground. Static filled her head and sobs crawled up her throat, muffled by the very cap that was given to her by her best friend.

Soul.

"I love you."

The words came out thick and cracked and only she would hear them. He was gone. They all were.

Now they were all phantoms that resided in her very heart and soul.