It wasn't her first nightmare about Crona, and it wouldn't be the last. Still, it was the first one that had her waking up screaming, her mind full of pink haired people with broken smiles. When she realized she had cried out, the sound full of pain and regret, she buried her face in her pillow, praying that Soul hadn't heard a thing. She couldn't have him knowing about her nightmares, simply because it showed a sign of weakness. How could she be the strongest Meister for him if she had troubles dealing with her own demons?

Part of her knew that it was the same thing that she had encountered in the book of Eibon, just the nagging feeling that Soul was going to accept one of those requests and leave her behind. She even had it all mapped out in her mind. He would move in with his new meister of course, she'd become some professor at the DWMA forever talking about her brief dash of glory, and she'd only see her best friend in the hallways of the schools, as he accepted countless missions with his new pretty big breasted meister, and at first they'd exchange common courtesies, but then it would change to mere nods, before they pretended that each other didn't exist at all.

Her rambling thoughts, totally off the topic of her nightmare—are broken off by Soul's voice.

"Maka?"

She sits straight up, her comforter pooling around her knees. He steps into her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. His sweatpants that he wears to sleep are hung low on his hips, a shirt missing from his chest. She fights off a blush and responds, her voice higher then usual.

"I'm fine," she's lying through her teeth, her green eyes flitting around the room, avoiding looking at him directly.

"What's wrong?" he yawns, ignoring her lie and stepping further into the room, blinking at her with the haze of sleep.

"Nothing."

"Maka. You know I'm not gonna believe that shit." He's always been brash with his words.

Maybe it's still the horrors that are left over from her nightmare, maybe it's the lack of sleep, or maybe because it's just him, standing in her room for her.

"Just a nightmare," she may tell the truth, but she waves it off as no big deal, even though it is.

Ever since the battle of the moon, ever since the large laughing crescent disappeared from the sky, she's been having nightmares. As a meister, she's been trained to deal with terrible experiences like that, but it doesn't stop the visions of swelling madness, of Crona's eyes, deranged from the madness. Of that brutal fight.

"We all get 'em," Soul says, but something about the tone of his voice suggests that the last dregs of sleep have faded from his mind.

"You get them?" she asks hopefully, her eyes wide. Soul shrugs, moving to lay back on her bed next to her, his head resting against the headboard, his ankle moving out to entwine with hers. She rests her head on his shoulder, even if he is a man. Even if she's been taught to push all of those foul creatures away.

"Course. You can't see something like that and not get nightmares Maka, even if nightmares are uncool." He says in the most matter of fact voice in the universe, like he's the keeper of all secrets.

"So the famous, cool, Soul Evans does something uncool?" She teases, the humor like a compress for her nightmarish thoughts.

"Don't you dare tell anyone Albarn. My reputation cannot afford to be tarnished," Soul warns her, and his arm moves around her, bringing her closer to the warmth of his body.

"Is hugging me like this also uncool?" she mumbles, burying her face in his chest, feeling the soft raised skin where his scar was.

"Only because you're a nerd, tiny tits," he responds, but she for once, doesn't respond with her famous Maka chop. She's enjoying his arms too much. Which is a totally creepy thought Maka would totally never have if she weren't suffering from lack of sleep.

"Yeah well you're a cool asshole," she mumbled, her words blending together with exhaustion.

"Just go to sleep already Maka," he said, but he didn't really sound annoyed.

Later, when she was lost in-between sleep and waking, she swore she felt him press a kiss to her hair as he climbed out of her bed to go back to his own room. Still, she knew better then to ask him about it. He would just deny it ever happened.