"I just need a break, okay?" were the words Maka Albarn should never have said to Liz Thompson, the P.R. person for her very famous fashion line, who had been making Maka work much harder than she liked. She had spent the past month doing nothing but interviews, drawing up new outfits, and meeting various celebrities to discuss making a one-of-a-kind for them, and she just wanted to get away from it all.
Liz just nodded her head. "Alright, I understand." She had told her.
"You do?" Maka had barely believed her ears at the words that came her friend's mouth.
"Yes. And the best way to get away from all the stress from work is to have some fun." Liz waggled her eyebrows at the last word.
Maka's heart dropped. Liz's idea of "fun" was nowhere near her own definition of it, and there was no way she could convince Liz to not take her wherever she had planned.
Maka had regretted asking for a break and she had good reason to. Liz did get her away from all the stress of work. She took her to a bar saying, "Maybe a few drinks and a dance or two will ease your tension."
So here she was, sitting on a barstool drinking a jack and coke. She may not seem like it, but she actually had a pretty high alcohol tolerance and she could down plenty of these while still staying sober. A talent she needed for the rare occasions where Liz would take her out drinking.
With the mixture of loud music blaring and one guy over at the pool table shouting about how he was going to win and how no one could beat such a big guy like him, Maka started to develop a slight headache. She was quite ready to leave, she had been from the minute they stepped foot in the bar. But Liz, who had found herself some guy with a lean build and short brown dreadlocks, was not leaving any time soon, and unfortunately she was the one with a phone to call a cab to take them back to the hotel they were staying at. They were staying in this city because they were meeting with some sculptor famous for his perfectly symmetrical works, who had fallen in love with Maka's fashion line and simply had to have a one-of-a-kind by her.
By the sounds of cheering, swearing, high-fiving, and exchanging of money, she figured that the game of pool had just finished.
"Alright fella's, the next round's on this guy!" a gruff voice shouted, clearly gloating about his victory.
He walked over and called to the bartender, "Seven beers. Put it on 'The Star's' tab." The bartender nodded and brought out some brown bottles grabbing two at a time.
Maka looked at the man who ordered the drinks. He had on ripped blue jeans, a white T-shirt and and leather jacket he had tossed over his shoulder.
He set his jacket down on the counter, grabbed three beers with each hand and walked them over to the crowd around the pool table-not before locking his gaze with hers and tossing her a wink-and then came back to claim his own.
He grabbed his jacket with his first two fingers tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned his elbow on the counter and turned to Maka. He tossed his head to the side to move a tuft of white hair out of his face, revealing deep red eyes. He looked her up and down, holding his gaze a bit longer at the neckline of the red strapless top she wore and moved down to her dark blue skinny jeans. "Hey, haven't seen you around. What's your name?" He asked as his eyes made their way up, stopping for a short moment at her chest and then up to her eyes. His voice was low and reflected the charming smile he had adopted that showed some oddly pointed teeth.
"What's it to you?" She said dismissively, trying to voice her disgust as best as she could and she thought she did a pretty good job of it.
"Hey, hey now, no need to be so rude." he took a step closer to her, sliding his elbow that still held most of his weight across the bar. "I mean no harm by it, I just want to know your name."
Maka rolled her eyes at him. "Right." she said, thinking that what some sleazy guy in a bar wanted wasn't all that dependent on knowing her name. "If you must know, I'm Maka." disdain poured from her voice like water from a pitcher. She hoped that this little exchange would end as soon as possible, but he seemed very persistent that it didn't.
"Maka what?"
"Really? Is it really all that important that you know my full name? Honestly, I don't think my name is at all necessary for what you have in mind, and honestly, there's no way in hell I would be interested in what you have in mind. Especially not with you." She kept her voice calm yet sharp. She downed the rest of her drink and asked the bartender for another.
"Hey, calm down. I just want to know your name. I'm not interested in any one night stand or anything. Although," he looked her up and down again. "I can understand why someone would."
Maka made a disgusted noise and started spinning the barstool away from him so she could walk away, and hopefully pry Liz away from her dancing partner to get her to take her back to the hotel.
A rough, calloused hand caught her arm in mid spin and the guy who had been talking to her leaned in closer, laughing a bit, "Hey, I'm just messing with ya. Relax a bit. How about you just sit here, I'll buy you that jack and coke you're drinking, and we can just have pleasant conversation."
She narrowed her eyes at him. His gaze showed sincerity, something she didn't expect and thought to be fake, but something about it seemed genuine. She looked out at the dance floor and saw Liz dancing with the same guy from earlier who had just started kissing her neck. She figured they weren't going to be separated for a while, so Maka turned back to "her" guy and took him up on his offer of "pleasant conversation".
"Alright. My name's Soul. Folks round here call me 'Eater'" He nodded his head toward the pool table. "You can call me what you like."
Maka raised an eyebrow, "Why 'Eater'?"
"Let's not get into that." He waved off the remark dismissively.
"Okay, Soul, nice to meet you, I guess."
"So tell me, Maka," Soul took a seat in the bar stool next to hers. "what brings you to good ol' Death City?"
"Work." She answered plain and simple as she took another sip of her drink.
"Okaayyy," he drew out the word, rolling his hands in circles, as if asking for her to expound upon that. "What is it that you do? What's your job?"
"I'm a fashion designer. I have my own line of clothes that I designed, and there's this big celebrity you've got living in your lovely little city here-don't ask me his name, I've forgotten already-and he wanted some one-of-a-kinds done for him for some big event he's got coming up. I don't know what it was. A Museum opening or something. Don't ask for details." Maka was bored out of her mind and it reflected in her voice. Talking about work was not the most pleasant of conversations, especially considering she came to the bar-practically against her will-to get away from work.
"How did you get into the fashion industry? What got you interested? What sparked this grand career choice?" Soul spoke with genuine interest, but sounding goofy enough to make her laugh.
Maka, noticing the sincere intrigue in his voice, went on to tell him about how when she was younger, she used to doodle pictures of dresses and shirts in various notebooks. She even made her own shirt one day, and her friend Liz thought it was adorable and went on and on about how she "could sooo make it to the big leagues of fashion designing!" She started making shirts and dresses, and selling them to some friends, then Liz managed to convince her to open up a small local shop for her creations. Her trademark was hoods. Every dress, shirt, sweater, and jacket she ever made had a hood on it. One day, some high class, famous musician came in and she fell in love with Maka's clothing line. She asked if she could call up some of her designer friends and see if they could give Maka a shot in the big leagues of fashion. At first Maka was hesitant, but Liz was persistent. Liz kept pestering her telling her it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, and that she should take a chance.
"And that's my story. Liz has been my PR person from day 1, because she's the one who pestered me into be a fashion designer. I owe it all to Liz and the famous musician who came into my store one day saying she loved the cute simple idea. She and I actually stayed in touch, and we get together for lunch every once in a while when our busy schedules happen to have us both in the same city." Maka finished her story, taking a sip of the drink she had forgotten about while telling the story.
Soul, who had been leaning on his elbow in a, less seductive, more attentive way, had been hanging onto every word. He actually seemed interested in her story about the fashion world.
"So tell me, how does a high class fashion designer find her way to a place like this." He made a broad gesture around the room.
"I said I needed a break. Liz thought I needed some "fun" and here I am."
"Well, maybe you do need some fun. Would you care to dance?" He said standing up extending his hand to her and he nodded toward the dance floor.
"No, thank you. I really need to pry my friend away from her…" she trailed off as she looked around for Liz who seemed to have disappeared. "Apparently not."
Soul laughed at her. "Who was she with? Do you know?"
"I don't know, he was tall, african american, short brown hair, glasses, smooth talker… I don't know."
"Ah, you aren't getting her back. Well, at least, not until morning."
"Well, that doesn't do me much good, she had the phone to call a cab home. Do they have a phone here?"
"Nope."
"Great! Just great! How am I supposed to get home, then?"
Soul seemed to ponder that a moment before an arrogant smirk creeped onto his face. "How about a game of pool? If I win, you dance with me for two songs at least, and then I'll be a gentleman and call you a cab. You win, you won't have to dance with me, and I'll call a cab for you to drive you home, or to your hotel, or wherever it is that you're staying. Deal?" He reached out his hand to seal the deal.
"You'll be a gentleman and call me a cab? You do realise you're putting those words in a wager, right?"
"Call it what you like. Is it a deal?"
Maka was getting irritated and weighed both options. She eyed his hand for a moment before grabbing hold of it and giving it a firm shake. "Alright, deal."
He slipped his hand onto her back and led her over to the pool table.
"Boys, we're up next." He said to the two guys playing who down to the 8 ball.
The guys around the table all looked at Maka as if this was a joke, like there was no way they were letting someone like this tiny chick play.
Soul walked over to the one he had beat earlier just before he started talking with Maka, the one he had called "The Star"-a man with bright blue hair, and was wearing jeans and a white muscle shirt showing off the tattoo on his right shoulder of, of course, a star. Soul whispered something into his ear, and he seemed to accept whatever it was that had been said and he relayed the message to the other guys through more whispers.
Soul walked back to Maka putting his arm around her shoulders, it made her feel slightly uncomfortable, yet also warm and cozy. He looked down at her and winked. She felt a sudden burst of heat wash over her cheeks as they turned, what she could only imagine was, a very bright shade of red. She wondered what he had said to make everyone accept her into the group, but also wondered whether or not she actually wanted to know. She opted not to say anything about it, and instead just watched the rest of the game.
The game lasted less than a minute longer, and the two players handed their pool cues off to Soul and Maka. Soul gathered all the balls into the wooden triangle and set it into place.
"Who's breaking? You or me?" He turned his head, looking back at Maka, as he still leaned over the table, showing off his ass quite nicely.
"You can." Maka said, sounding a bit more timid than she wanted.
Soul grabbed the pool cue that he had asked "The Star" to hold, lined up his shot, and with a thrust of his arm, the white ball slammed into the perfect triangle sending a rainbow of the numbered spheres scattering across the table.
"6 ball went in. You're solids, Eater." One rather large man said as he checked the pocket the green ball went rolling into.
Soul didn't hesitate to move onto calculating his next move, trying to figure out the best way to get the cue ball to bounce off the wall and manage to sink the 4 ball into the side pocket. After about a minute or two of consideration, he sent the cue ball off rolling but missed by just half an inch, sending the 4 rolling in the wrong direction. He stood up straight, looked at Maka and gestured to the table, saying it was her turn.
Maka stepped up, and without any hesitation walked around to the other wall of the table that the cueball was up against, so she could line up a shot that would guide the red 11 into the corner pocket. She turned around to "The Star" saying, "Could you move?"
He laughed in reply, "Come on, sweetheart, I'm far enough away from the table. Besides, someone like" he paused a moment, looking her up and down. "you won't hurt me with that stick." He laughed some more.
Maka just shrugged, mumbling, "It's not this stick I'm worried about." and turned back to face the table. She bent over making her body practically a 90 degree angle, her ass just barely brushing up against "The Star". She felt him quickly take a step back and couldn't help but smirk. "Told ya" she mumbled under her breath, Soul seemed to be the only one who heard it because she heard a just barely audible laugh from him.
She lined up the shot perfectly and thrust her arm forward sinking the 11 with ease.
She heard a couple surprised whistles and some whisperings of "Pure luck." and "Sure, but that was an easy shot." Maka just smirked and started calculating her next shot.
She walked over to the short end of the table and leaned over the table, and made her next shot, sinking the 9 ball. She sunk three more balls and then missed her next shot.
"You're up, Eater" she flashed an arrogant smirk.
Now, she could tell he was impressed, him and, not to mention, the other dozen guys who had come to watch the puny girl get beaten by the famous "Eater."
Soul managed to sink four more solids with about 3 minutes of calculation in between each shot and then missed on his last shot, just barely escaping the tragedy of having 8 ball falling into a pocket before he had sunken the rest of the solids.
Maka managed to sink the rest of the stripes on her next turn and it was just down to the black 8 ball. The last one, that fateful black sphere that decided whether or not she would win.
"8 ball, left side pocket!" she called out so the whole audience of about 20 or so people could hear. She thrust the pool cue against the white ball, and it bounced off the wall and just barely missed its target. About two thirds of the people who came to watch voiced their disappointment while the other third were high-fiving each other, and distributing 5-10 dollar bills to each other with a curse under their breath.
Soul went up to the table and managed to sink the last two solids, the 2 and the 4 ball. Now the only remaining thing on the table was that black sphere with the perfectly symmetrical number 8 on it.
Soul leaned over the table as he lined up his shot. He turned his head, tossed Maka a wink, shouted, "8 ball, front corner pocket!" then turned his head back to the cue ball.
The whole crowd went silent. No noise was heard except for the classic rock playing overhead. Everyone was so focused on the game, most of them had already placed bets, about 6 of them had already offered to buy the winner a drink of their choice, and about 3 of them had shouted "I'm next in line to play winner!"
Soul moved his hand back and forth a bit as a practice before letting the cue hit the ball. The *CRACK* of the white and black spheres colliding was the sound that made almost everyone hold their breath as they watched the 8 ball roll all the way across the table, getting closer to the pocket to the left of Soul and slow down before finally falling into the pocket.
There was cheering all around. Bets were settled and there must have been at the very least three hundred dollars that had been passed between the various gamblers.
A bunch of the guys went over to high-five Soul, pat him on the back, and shake his hand. Soul walked over to Maka, held out his hand for her to shake, looked her in the eye and said, "Good game. I hate to admit it, but you might be…" he paused a moment. "Almost as good as me."
"You wish." She said as their hands joined going up and down in their handshake.
Soul just smiled down at her. "Now, about that dance you promised me." he nodded towards the dance floor.
She nodded, saying how she did promise and would never go back on her word.
They started walking towards the floor and Maka felt Soul's hand creep onto the small of her back as he guided her to the center, right underneath a disco ball.
They reached the middle of the floor and he slid his hands to her waist pulling her closer, only a few inches away from him, to dance to the slow song. Maka put her arms around his neck and they swayed along to the music.
"Now, where did someone like you learn to play pool that well?" Soul's intrigue ringing clear through his voice.
"My good-for-nothing father. He taught me when I was a teenager, said it was a 'useful life skill'"
Soul laughed. "Right, and has it been useful?"
"Hey, it rendered you speechless for a bit, and I nearly whipped your ass in the game because I'm far better than you. So, I'd say it's pretty useful."
Soul laughed again, a gruff laugh showing his sharp pointed teeth. He pulled her in closer so that there was no space in between the two and their bodies were pushed against each other. He leaned down so their faces were only inches apart and whispered "You wish you were as good as me."
"Nah, I already am better, so," she smirked up at him.
"Alright, how about after this song, we play one more game of pool, see who really is the better player."
"You're challenging me to a rematch even after you already beat me?" She looked at him in almost disbelief.
"Well that was a fair game. The true test to see if who's better is by playing, what we, here, like to call an 'Interference Game.'"
"Oh yeah, and what's that?"
"Well, it's a normal game, just with added… distractions."
Maka raised her eyebrows at him, "And by distractions, you mean…?"
Soul smirked, placing his tongue in between his teeth. "I mean just that. Anything you think will catch your opponent off guard." His expression was smug as hell and it was dead sexy.
"And are there any limits to these distractions?"
"Two rules. 1. You have to keep your clothes on. 2. It's just the two players, no audience interference."
"Alright then, shall we put a wager on this one, or just bragging rights?"
"Oh, bragging rights are just fine for this one." With every word, his smirk increased, gaining more intensity.
The song ended and they walked back to the pool table.
"Well boys," Maka spoke up, suddenly cocky and addressing them as if they were her own posse. "'Eater' over here has challenged me to an 'Interference game'. We're up after you two."
The two who had been in the middle of a game instantly handed over their pool cues, insisting that they'd rather watch this game than finish their own.
They gathered all the balls and placed them in the wooden triangle.
"I broke last time, so you're up." Soul gestured with a big sweeping motion of his arms over to the table. Maka walked up and lined up the shot as Soul walked up behind her.
He leaned overtop of her and placed his hands on the table either side of her waist, whispering in her ear, "Are you sure your stance is correct?"
Maka just shook her head at the cliche distracting tactic, "Oh yeah, it's perfect. You sure your's is?"
She heard him laugh just a bit before she thrust her arm sending the cue ball flying into the triangle of colours.
"You're stripes again, little lady." The same rather large man from earlier told her.
"If you could move for a moment, Eater, thank you." Maka jabbed him in the chest with her shoulder. Soul lifted his arm and took a step back as Maka moved over to where the cue ball was located.
Soul stood directly across the table from her and had his face right behind the ball she was shooting for. He tossed her a wink before she hit the ball sending it toward its target.
Soul stopped with the distractions for Maka's next two shots, one of which sinking two balls, the other just missing.
Soul walked up to the spot of the table that the cue ball was closest to. He leaned over the table and Maka came up and just put her hand on his shoulder.
"'S'that it?" His voice rang out with clear amusement.
"What? You want something more? Something like... oh, I don't know…" she leaned her body against him, making sure her chest was pressing into him "this?"
"That's better." He said with a smirk about as big as his ego. He made the shot with ease, and turned his head to wink at Maka. She moved back and let him walk over to the other side of the table to line up his next shot.
She stayed where she was and just placed hand on the table, leaning the majority of her weight on it, with her body turned away from it. Not doing anything provocative or distracting. Just looking at her nails, waiting patiently for Soul to finish his turn, not even looking at him for a second.
It seemed to have distracted him enough, seeing as how he missed his target by a good four inches, not even grazing it, and he managed to let the cue ball fall into a pocket.
"A scratch? Eater, you're not getting distracted over there, are you?" Maka's cockiness was showing almost as strong as Soul's had been all night as she pulled the white sphere out of the corner pocket.
She set the cue ball down on the table as she lined up her next shot. Soul was getting irritated and he walked over to her, sliding his hand from the small of her back, around her waist, to her navel. He leaned in closer and spoke in a low breathy whisper, "You think you're cute, don't you?" His breath was warm and moist in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and making the hair on her neck stand up.
"No actually, it's you who thinks that." She whispered up at him with a smirk and she leaned over to make the shot, completely ignoring the hand on her stomach.
She made the shot with no problem, and moved on to her next target.
She saw the clear frustration on Soul's face, and noticed some of the guys around laughing at him, only making him even more upset. She tossed him a wink, trying to get him riled up even more.
He walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her again, trying the same tactic again.
She lined up the shot and, just as she pulled her arm back to send the cue ball flying, she felt soft lips kissing her neck, catching her completely off guard and making her only graze the ball with the pool cue.
"Shit." She dropped her head as she swore under her breath barely audible for anyone except Soul to hear.
"So you like that, huh?" He used the same low breathy whisper as earlier.
"Just shut up and shoot." She jabbed him with her elbow forcing him to get up off of her, letting some of her frustration ring through in her voice.
She didn't even watch him at all, instead she went up to "The Star"
"Hey, sweetheart, you having troubles with that game?" He smirked at her.
"Not a bit. You enjoying the show?" She heard the *CRACK* of the balls colliding behind her, and she didn't even look back. She did, however, count the sounds of the balls falling into the various pockets. She heard two.
"Hell yeah, Interference games are the best to watch. Are you enjoying it?"
*CRACK* *thump* Another ball sunk.
Maka could hear Soul walk around the table to right behind her. She just shrugged and gave an indecisive, "Meh, could be better."
She heard Soul curse under his breath as she listened to the sound of a ball falling into a pocket without having heard the sound of a collision.
She spun around and looked at Soul, "Another scratch, Eater? Oh, come now, I expect better from you."
Soul's frustration was rising. They were tied with three balls sunk and they both still had five more counting the 8 ball.
Maka grabbed the cue ball out of the pocket it had fallen into and started looking for the best spot to place it.
Soul came up behind her and pressed his whole body up against hers and slid his hand down her arm to her wrist and guided her hand to where he thought would be a good place for the ball.
"This tactic again? Honestly Soul, I think it's a bit unoriginal." Maka whispered to him with a bored tone.
He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Well, I think the best spot for the cue ball would be right here." He whispered against her neck as he stopped moving her arm.
"Personally, I think you use this tactic just because you enjoy the position it puts you in."
"Now, what" he brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles "would you give that idea?"
"Oh, a certain something is leading me to the conclusion."
She pulled her hand away from his and lined up her shot sinking three balls perfectly.
"If you'll excuse me," She bumped him with her shoulder again, and she went over to the other side of the table and Soul didn't do anything to distract her this time, but the positioning of solids surrounding the stripe she was going for made for a very difficult shot, and she missed.
Not even acknowledging Soul's presence, she went back up to 'The Star'
"Back again?"
"Hey, could you get me a beer?" she turned to one of the guys who had stopped paying attention to the game and just had his gaze locked on her. He nodded and disappeared faster than she could blink her eyes.
She turned back to 'The Star'. "Mmhmm, what is it that we were talking about?" Maka twirled her hair a bit, and started swaying her hips to Dancing in the Sheets by Shalamar playing overhead.
"Nothing, just talking about pool."
*CRACK* *thump* *thump* Two balls sunk, only three left.
"Oh right." She felt a tap on her shoulder and it was the one whom she had asked to get her a beer. He handed her the brown bottle, nervously. "Hey, thanks." She popped the cap off and pressed her lips to the bottle taking a swig of it. "So, you any good at pool?" She returned her attention to 'The Star'.
"Are you kidding? I'm the best pool player here." The crowd around just laughed, sending the vibe that he was over-selling himself. "Well, almost. I'm the best next to Eater."
"Right. And Eater's the best next to me."
She heard Soul scoff in the background. A low "Yeah, right!" mumbled under his breath.
"Can't argue there, honey." The Star replied to her. The reply making Soul nearly lose his grip on his pool cue.
"So, any reason you're known as "The Star"? Or is that the name you were born with?" Maka's sarcasm level was high.
"It's because I'm the biggest star around and no one here is better than me at anything." He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "And I mean anything."
*CRACK* *thump* One more sunk, one ball left before the 8 ball.
She grabbed his neck as he started to pull away, holding his face a few inches away from her own. "Is that an offer?"
"Are you accepting it?"
She heard a low mumbled curse come from behind them.
She turned around to see Soul's pool cue right next to the cue ball.
"Didn't even hit the cue ball, Eater? What a shame." Sarcasm and mockery spewing out of her mouth with the words spoken.
She turned back to 'The Star' and shot him a wink, her smirk extreme.
She walked over to Soul, "If you don't mind, I'd like to make my shot."
"Be my guest." He moved out of the way but then pressed up leaned against the table next to her, scooting close to her just so their shoulders were touching.
She used the pool cue to line up the shot, calculating the angles.
"You know," Soul whispered down her shoulder. "it would be a shame if you were to miss that shot."
She turned her head, her face only inches away from his. "Then I won't miss, just for you."
She turned back to the table and bent over to make the shot. She moved her arm back and forth as a warmup and felt Soul lean his face closer to hers.
"I hope you make it."
She tried to ignore him, focusing on the target.
"After all, bragging rights are always good."
She focused harder.
"Because with bragging rights you get to take charge,-"
She pulled her arm back
"-and it puts your position on top-"
The chalked tip hit the ball sending it spinning.
"-of your game, that is."
Maka watched as the cue ball bounced off the wall and missed the target by a whole six inches.
Maka hung her head, "Damn it!" She picked her head up off the table, straightened up, regaining her composure.
Soul walked over to where the cue ball had ended up and Maka stayed where she was and leaned against the table, watching him calculate his move.
*thud* the pool cue hit the ball *CRACK* it made contact with its target and *thump* the coloured ball fell into the pocket.
The cue ball had ended up over by Maka and she thought of one final tactic that just might work.
Soul walked over to her and she turned around to face him, her hands behind her on the table for support.
"So, Eater, you can make a shot with any distractions?"
"Of course I can. Now could you move?"
Maka wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her face up just a few inches away from his. "Nope. I'm not moving. No distraction can stop you, so here's your distraction." She closed in the circle her arms made around his neck, tightening her grip on him and bringing herself so close that their noses were touching. "Go ahead, take your shot."
"With pleasure." His eyebrows made a simple up and down motion as his eyes lit up with so much desire. He leaned over, making her bend backwards against the table. "That doesn't hurt, does it?" He said with more ferocity than concern.
"Not a bit. Don't worry, I'm flexible."
Soul looked away from her and over to the cue ball. He suddenly had intense concentration on his face as he lined up the shot. "8 ball, corner pocket!"
Maka brought her face over and started kissing his jaw, gradually moving down to his neck.
She felt his shoulder shift as he pulled his arm back to make the shot and she started sucking at the exposed skin of his neck. She felt his shoulder jerk as he thrust his arm forward.
She swivelled her head over to see where the ball would end up.
The white and black spheres collided, bouncing off of each other. The black moved towards the wall just outside the pocket and the white rolled back from the impact right into the side pocket.
The whole room sounded with a mix of cheering and booing.
Soul straightened up with a start, bringing Maka with him as she was still clinging onto his neck. He seemed surprised the large group of people was even there, as if he had forgotten all about the crowd gathered around and only now just remembered. Maka let go of his neck and Soul took a step away from the pool table, and extended a hand to Maka.
Maka grabbed it with a firm shake. "Good game, Eater."
"Yeah," His voice almost had a hint of something, she couldn't put her finger on it. He almost seemed… flustered? No matter what it was, it was gone in an instant, and he went back to his normal cocky self as he added "very good." with a single waggle of his eyebrows.
"Well, I win bragging rights, and I believe I still owe you a dance from last game's wager."
"You do, indeed." His eyes lit up like fire.
His hand crept to the small of her back again and he led her over to the dance floor.
They started dancing and didn't stop. They danced and danced, going from song to song. Not stopping in between, just transitioning so naturally between slow songs to upbeat ones.
After they had been dancing for what felt like ages-but according to the clock on the wall, it had been about an hour-Soul grabbed her hand and led her over to the bar.
They sat down on the stools, sipping on their beers, singing along to Born to be My Baby by Bon Jovi playing overhead.
Once they were both finished with their drinks they looked at each other and they both said, practically in unison, "You wanna get out of here?"
They both laughed. It was Soul who spoke up again, "My place isn't all that far from here. Sound good to you?"
"Oh yeah." she said as she slid off the barstool and grabbed his hand, letting him lead the way.
He led her out the door and down the street a bit, and, he wasn't lying; after only walking for two blocks they arrived at his place.
They walked in the door, and Maka pushed up him against the wall, pressing her lips against his in a big long passionate kiss on him, running her hands through his soft white hair, just barely remembering to kick the door closed with her foot.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands as he kissed her harder, their tongues meeting.
She slipped her arms underneath his shirt and ran them across every bump and dent in his perfect abs.
He broke away from the kiss to grab the back of the collar of his shirt pulling it off over his head and tossing it off to the side. He grabbed her shoulders, turned her around pushing her against the wall and kissing her, beginning at her lips and making his way to her jawline, and then down her neck, and to the fabric at the top of her sleeveless shirt.
Maka wrapped her legs around his waist, letting Soul carry her to the bedroom and toss her onto the bed.
"You want an answer to your question, now?" Soul asked as he lowered down onto the bed, placing his hands on either side of Maka's shoulders.
"What question?" she mumbled, her lips against his neck.
"Why they call me 'Eater'." His voice rang with such desire and ferocity it sent a shiver down Maka's spine.
She pulled her head away from his chest to meet his fiery gaze. "Oh yes." She spoke with the same fierce tone as he did.
They both lay there, skin glistening with sweat, the sheets clinging to them. Soul was lying nestled up behind her, lightly peppering her neck and shoulders with kisses.
"Hey," she said softly, turning her head slightly to see him out of the corner of her eye. "I think I'm going to sleep, okay? You can feel free to continue what you're doing, though."
She could feel him smirk against her neck. "As you wish, my lady." His tone mirroring the smug expression that she could picture so clearly, having seen it practically nonstop the whole night long.
She dozed off into a peaceful slumber with the feel of light kisses and the sound of Soul humming a lullaby.
Maka woke up the next morning, lying next to Soul, revelling in the heat radiating from the closeness of his body and hers.
Maka stayed there a moment longer, enjoying the warmth and comfort. Maka sat up slowly, careful not to wake Soul. "The morning after" was not something she wanted to experience, seeing as how she needed to go home tomorrow, if not today, and they were most likely never going to see each other again. Something like that would only lead to pain and regret.
She gathered her clothes that had been strewn across the room, and pulled them on. Maka looked back at Soul one last time before quietly slipping out the door.
She made it to the hotel and she barely got through the door before she was bombarded with a loud, surprisingly high pitched "Oh my gosh, you did not!" Her dear friend Liz's voice ringing with both shock and almost congratulations.
"Hi, Liz, what are you doing up so early?" Maka had hoped she could avoid this conversation as long as possible, maybe get a shower and a nap in before Liz started asking her about it, because once she brought it up, there was no way the topic was going to be put on hold.
"I would say the question is 'what are you doing out so early', but that's pretty obvious. But I guess it's not so much early as it is late, right? I'm so proud of you, Maka!" Liz wrapped her arms around her, pulling the shorter blonde into a hug.
"Okay, okay, whatever. Yeah, it happened, I went home with a guy. Can we move on, now?"
"Are you kidding me? No, I want details."
"No, that's just... no. I'm gonna go take a shower, get out of these clothes."
"Like you didn't do that last night." Liz joked.
Maka's cheeks filled with warmth from a mixture of both embarrassment and irritation with her friend. She grabbed a t-shirt and some sweatpants and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
She looked in the mirror and, amongst all the hickeys she wished not to count, she noticed a long silver chain around her neck. She was confused since she hadn't worn a necklace yesterday. She pulled it out from under her shirt and saw a guitar pick hanging from it. It was a deep red, and had one word written on it: Soul.
Maka wanted to throw it away, she didn't need a reminder of last night. But something stopped her as she held it over the waste-bin. She grasped it tightly in her hands and carefully set it down on the bathroom counter.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Maka began to feel like her old self again. She walked out of the bathroom and sat down on her bed, fiddling with her new piece of jewelry.
She heard Liz start walking towards her and she quickly stuffed the necklace down her shirt.
"Can you at least give me his name?" Liz sat down across from her on the bed.
"No, Liz. You don't get to know anything. I kind of just want to forget all about it, okay?" Maka spoke the words and, as much as she wished for them to be true, she didn't mean it.
She enjoyed last night more than she should have. She enjoyed it, and a part of her wanted to relive it over and over again. A part of her wanted to go back to that house, that bar, to see him again. Apologise for leaving so abruptly without warning. But she couldn't.
"Tell me this," Liz started, suddenly taking on a serious tone in contrast to her excited words just a moment ago. "How is it that you, you of all people, you, Maka Albarn, actually allowed yourself to have a one night stand with some guy you met in a bar?" She almost had concern in her voice, and maybe even… sympathy?
"I don't know."
"Did you have too much to drink?"
"No."
"Did he drug you?"
"No!"
"Then what?"
"I don't know!" Her words turned to tears and she collapsed into Liz's lap. She didn't understand why she allowed herself to do what she did; she didn't understand what it was about him that was so comfortable and felt like home; she didn't understand why she was crying; she didn't understand why she was so upset; she didn't understand any of it.
"Hey, honey, calm down. Come on, let's pack our bags, and we can leave for home and forget all about him, okay?" Maka looked at a blurry Liz through her tear filled vision.
She nodded slowly, and grabbed a tissue to blow her nose. She knew she wouldn't forget a single detail about last night. She wouldn't forget a single thing about him. His deep red eyes that filled with such fire and passion, his white hair that was so gloriously soft in between her fingers, his sharp teeth that felt so good sinking into her skin.
She started packing up all her notebooks filled with sketches and designs, put her clothes from the previous day in her suitcase, and after about half an hour, they were ready to leave for the airport.
"I'm ready," Maka called out to Liz as she slung her bags over her shoulder.
Liz looked at her for a moment. "Are you going out in public wearing that?"
"Yes, Liz. I don't care how I look, I just want to get on the plane and be home already." Maka's words had traces of incoming sobs behind them. She was irritated and had no time for a cute, stylish outfit that wasn't near as comfortable as her current apparel.
Liz gave her a soft smile, "I don't mean it like that." She reached into her bag and pulled out a red bundle of fabric. "It's just, maybe you should wear this." She handed her the object and upon unfolding it, Maka saw it was Liz's favourite scarf made out of thin material that served no purpose except being stylish.
She looked at Liz confused, then her eyes widened with realisation and she rushed to the bathroom to look at her neck where there were three red splotches showing.
"Damn it," she mumbled under her breath as she started wrapping the scarf around her neck covering up the visible marks.
"Sorry," Liz spoke just above a whisper.
Maka felt the slightest hint of tears form in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away putting on a smile. "No, I'm fine. Come on, let's get to the airport."
"Alright, let's go."
They walked out and Maka checked them out of the hotel while Liz called for a cab.
On the cab ride there, Maka fiddled the guitar pick on the silver chain. It was the same colour as his eyes.
She wanted to forget all about him, but she knew that she never would, and that, in reality, she really didn't want to.
She finally realized why she let herself do it, why she had allowed herself to go home with him, why she had felt so hurt when she left him lying there asleep on the bed, left him without a word. She realized that, in the short time she spent with him-she would not have believed it could happen in such a small amount of time, but she did now-she fell in love with him and she didn't want to forget about him, even if she could.