"For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are those 'It might have been.'"
- John Greenleaf Whittier

Soul

Friday night was movie night. It was just him, Maka, the TV and a truckload of comfort food. Best night of the whole week, in his opinion. He even loved the nights when it was Maka's turn to choose a movie even though she'd choose some stupid rom-com that he didn't want to watch. (Or so he said; the movie would usually suck him in at the half-way point, and he'd be watching with as much interest as Maka. He had to pretend to be annoyed to maintain his coolness, although he suspected Maka knew it was all an act). It was just comfortable and warm and relaxing and right, Maka snuggled up against him on the sofa, the only light coming from the flickering TV screen, the only sounds her soft breathing and the noise of the movie they were watching… it was perfect.

Until – "Soul, did you even hear me?"

"Huh?"

It was his night to choose, so they were watching Equilibrium – one of the few action movies he knew Maka would enjoy. Maka's legs were placed over his lap, her head resting on the arm of the couch and he was leaning back into the cushions, a blanket covering them both, the movie fully capturing his attention. It obviously hadn't captured Maka's though.

He reluctantly turned away from the TV to look at her.

"What?" He asked impatiently.

She sighed, staring at the TV gloomily. "I said, Matt broke up with me."

Okay. Something was up. Maka never talked about her love life with him. She usually talked to Tsubaki about her relationships, so news would always reach him from Black Star. It was a kind of unspoken agreement between them: she wouldn't talk about her dates and he wouldn't bring any of his dates home. Maka bringing this up meant that she was really broken up about something.

"What's wrong Maka?"

Her forest green eyes caught his, troubled, pensive.

"That's the thing Soul. What is wrong with me? Am I really that awful?"

"No… A little homicidal, yes, but not 'awful'. What happened?" He asked, calm outwardly, but seething inside. If the shit had done anything to hurt Maka –

"… The day before yesterday, he called… said that it wasn't me, it was him…"

"…and how you should just stay friends? What an asshole."

"It's not just Matt, Soul… it's every guy I've ever been in a relationship with! I mean, I've heard the 'it's not you, it's me' thing so many times I could probably… ugh, do something with it!" She waved her hands emphatically, "What's wrong with me?"

No way was she putting him in this situation. This was completely girl-talk territory. Maybe he should call Tsubaki?

"Should I call Tsubaki?"

She sniffled. "See what I mean? Even you're running away from me."

"What I meant was – nothing's wrong with you. You're a strong, beautiful, independent woman. Matt was a jerk, anyway." He said, trying to recover from his mistakes.

Matt really was a jerk, from what he'd heard from Black Star (who heard from Tsubaki). He had that whole 'tall, dark and handsome' thing going on that all chicks seemed crazy about; even Maka had been ecstatic when he'd asked her out. But the douche had stood Maka up a couple of times and, while not treating her badly per se, he wasn't exactly perfect boyfriend material. Breaking up with girls on the phone? Not cool.

Yeah, this guy was going to get hurt.

She snorted at his efforts, a smile forming on her lips, before being wiped away by sad musings. "I know. It's not Matt. It's just…"

He waited for her to gather her thoughts.

"I don't think I've ever gotten past the fourth date. Ever. The one time I did, it turned out the guy wasn't there for the stimulating conversation."

Soul really didn't like the way this conversation was heading. He was quickly reaching that 'punch something' stage; the thought of another guy being with Maka like that irritating him beyond belief. He knew she dated, that she wasn't exactly celibate, but having it rubbed in his face? Making him remember – Why, why, why, hadn't he call Tsubaki?

"I know I'm bossy," she continued, not noticing how silent he'd got, "and I'm trying to fix that…be less… loud, I guess? Do I… 'not let people in?' Build walls around myself or whatever? … I really did talk to Matt. I'm sick of every guy saying I'm 'emotionally distant' …I mean, what the hell should I do? Tell every male I meet my whole life's story?" She was pushing all his buttons mercilessly, too caught up in her rant to even care, "What if it's not even that? Maybe it's the way I look. He kept saying I looked like a teenager. God, he was bastard. 'Maka, you look like you're fifteen or something. Everyone looks at me like I'm a pedophile. Ha ha ha.'" She pulled a face, disgust twisting her features. "And he always needed attention. Gah - he's such a baby."

Those words. A conversation eerily similar to this one. Maka speaking as if it had no effect on her and her perfect world. It was too much. In his mind he was eighteen again, still reeling from whiplash. Shit. Even though he was twenty-three and even though it had happened years ago, the wounds she'd caused him still hadn't healed. They were still there. It took a lot of his inner strength not to blow up at her.

God, she was a… an idiot sometimes.

"Maka," he gritted out, "I know you're going through a lot, but can you please talk to Tsubaki about this crap? I'm not the person you should talk to about this shit."

That brought the night to a stop.

"I… it's just that I… I thought…" She stuttered as she looked at him, shock and hurt evident in her eyes.

He sighed, trying to chill, relaxing his tense muscles.

"Sorry, Maka. But you know…"

She looked lost for a while. One thing about Maka that Soul hated: she could be so fucking intuitive when it came to other people, but when it came to her and him, she didn't know shit – not a fucking clue.

"Soul," she said, apologetically, softly. She finally realized what she'd said, what he'd heard her say. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"

He nodded, wanting so badly to end these awkward, awkward, awkward moments.

"It's okay. Ancient history." Assuring her or himself, he didn't know.

"Okay." She nodded, not looking at him, her eyes darting around the room, obviously trying to find something to distract them, "Oh. I like this part," she pointed to the movie, "he figures out that his son knows!"

He looked at the TV too, grateful for the change in subject. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the movie. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, reliving that one night that had been the best in his life. That had irreversibly changed so much. The morning after, though. That was when everything began going downhill. When it seemed that he'd lost his best friend. His best friend. He looked at Maka, his eyes taking in the familiar form, the shoulder-length ash blonde hair that she rarely let down, her green, green eyes reflecting the blue of the screen. He still loved her – something he rarely admitted to himself, something he kept in the deepest, darkest recesses of his being. But looking at her now, remembering… she was the one – the life-changing love that songs were written about. She was also the one who'd broken him, literally left him breathless for days. He didn't want to open that whole can of worms, ever. This friendship pseudo-relationship thing was just fine with him.

He was just terrified about what would happen when it stopped being enough.

Maka

"I need the bathroom," she said, pushing the blanket out of the way.

He nodded, barely paying attention. She moved her legs off his lap and told him not to pause the movie, that she'd be right back.

He didn't notice; his eyes fixed on the screen. She knew he wasn't watching the movie, that he had all kinds of thoughts running through his mind even though his face was impassive. His shoulders were slightly tensed, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

He hated her. He should hate her.

She practically ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, leaning on it.

Oh God. Maka couldn't believe herself sometimes. Had she really just said all that to Soul? What the hell?

She didn't talk to Soul about this stuff, she'd forfeited the right to talk to him about this stuff ages ago. Soul was her roommate. Her friend. She could talk to him about school, work, bills… anything. Anything except her love-life. That was were the lines became unclear and messy. Once upon a time he could have been her love life. She didn't want that then though. She still didn't want that now.

He was her friend.

Her best friend.

Always had been.

Nothing more.

She'd hurt him once before, hurt him deeply. All because she'd made a mistake and given him hope that they could be something more. She'd been drunk. She'd been young and stupid and it didn't make a fucking difference. When she'd woken up the next day, with his arms around her, pulling her close to him and his ruby eyes softened with something that terrified her, she'd almost freaked out. Actually, she did freak out. She ran away. The next time he'd spoken to her after the incident, she'd said a lot of things she shouldn't have. A lot of things she didn't mean. Things that hurt Soul, wounded him, broke him up. She'd broken his heart. Something she'd always regret.

She had nearly lost their friendship, her treasure, back then and now that she had somehow been given a second change, she would hold onto whatever this thing was.

Not bringing up her exes would be a good start.

Why did she have to bring up Matt? Honestly, she didn't even like him that much. True, he was good looking, but after two dates with him she knew that it wasn't going anywhere, and had been considering breaking up with him. But then Matt had called and broken up with her first. It had seriously pissed her off, both the fact that he'd done it first, and the fact that he'd done it over the phone. She'd hung up on him. Nothing worth crying over.

It had lead to her thinking though… Was something wrong with her? This was the fifth guy in six months who'd broken up with her…Was she too loud, too opinionated, too outspoken? She knew she could be bossy at times… Violent, if provoked. But she tried to be nice and quiet. She'd always smile and laugh at their lame jokes. Did they see through her, see the flaws she so desperately tried to hide?

Were all her relationships predestined to fail? Was it in her genes or something? Her mom and dad were not the best role models when it came to this, anyway. Her longest relationship with anyone of the opposite sex was with Soul. Soul… she smiled bitterly. Everything always led back to him. She'd hurt him again. She'd seen it in his brilliant red eyes, the memories leaving them dull crimson. The things she'd said would haunt them both for the next few days, they were almost exact echoes of what she'd said back then. Not let people in?... Build walls around myself or whatever?… 'emotionally distant'… such a baby...

She could be such an idiot sometimes.

She'd been selfish back then, simply. Scared too, but that didn't matter.

Maka couldn't imagine how, why the hell he'd forgiven her.

She just knew she was glad.

He was her friend.

Her best friend.

Always had been.

Nothing more.

AN: a HUGE thanks to my beta reader, sparksflyup1223, for somehow making coherent sentences from the jumble of words I sent her. She's awesome.