Flip, flip.
Her fingers danced over the pages, gentle green eyes scanning each line with relaxed intensity. Her hair lay sprawled against her pillow, soft strands glued to her sweaty shoulder and collarbone. Since Maka defeated the Kishin, there was always been more peaceful moments like this, where one of the most important and stressful things that used to occur on her mind all the time never made an inkling of contact with her consciousness. Now, she could finish reading this book Tsubaki had recently recommended to her-
"Oi, Maka! Where's dinner?"
The shout for her attention buzzed the girl out of her trance, and Maka grumbled slightly as she paused to take notice of her page before gently placing the novel on her sheets. She stood firm and square on the ground, ready to tackle any challenge. With a firm voice, she called out,
"It's your turn to make it, Soul! And I know Blair hasn't tampered with our money this week, so you can't say that we're up short!" Her voice gradually increased in volume as her bare feet padded out of her room, through the hallway, and eventually square center of the living room. The white-haired weapon lounging on the couch turned halfway to face her, his classic smirk plastered on his face growing wider and wider as Maka's hands landed on her hips, deadly eyes narrowing at him.
"What's that? I can't hear you! Speak up!" The blonde meister rolled her eyes, but grinned shyly and gained closer proximity to the other.
"I said, you dummy, that it is in fact YOUR turn to make din-" Her sentence snapped in half as Soul dragged her to the sofa, drawing the teenager to his lap with a satisfied,
"Got you!" Oh, god dammit. With an iron-strong clench from years of practice, her body wriggled away from him to adjust sitting next to him in a way that made them on equal stance, something that eased the joking worry on Maka's mind.
"I'll pick up some pizza, capiche?" He murmured, rising from the couch and traveling to the counter, snatching his keys and cell phone before stuffing them into his jean pocket.
"Be back in twenty." She called out, getting up and making the short trek back to her private dwelling, ready to dive back into the comfort of the literary world.
"Yeah, yeah."
The slam of the front door echoed throughout the apartment and the young woman chuckled quietly as she stepped over the threshold of her dormitory.
There was someone in her room.
A boy.
So she shakily inhaled and exhaled fresh oxygen, not yet noticing the striking similarity to a certain person, and closed her eyelids.
Maka opened her eyes to find the teenager still standing there, gazing back at her with the same shock and plain bewilderment. The two stood, maintaining the stern eye contact that locked them together.
But curiosity overturned her bubbling distress, and she pulled her stare away from his startlingly red eyes to cautiously take a step forward. His frame tensed, and her instincts knew right away to duck as a rusty skin colored bandage whipped out at where she just was. Dammit. Maka turned to grab ahold of something, anything; she could use to defend herself (she was practically getting nowhere at this point) from this all-too-familiar stranger, and another bandage slithered out and grabbed her by the ankle. Shit. The meister's view shifted upside down as the bandage flipped and lifted up, ready to slam her into the ground.
He paused.