I am going to attempt to write a collection with the list of prompts my beloved TamanoRyu has so kindly written for me. Please join me on this journey of insanity and rapture and all that is Soul/Maka.
Prompt: dark lines.
She keeps her trepidation buried deep as her fingers slide over his scar. Five years later, and Maka has never forgiven herself though Soul hasn't ever held her accountable. And he says so. Which is why she pretends to have a nonchalant attitude towards the whole ordeal.
Soul lifts her fingers, kissing them, biting them softly, teasing. "You're not sleeping."
"Neither are you."
He provides her with a toothy grin, releasing her hand and tapping his chest. "I can't when you touch me like that. It's too suggestive."
"Please tell me you're not getting any ideas." She scowled, her eyes glinting with the ever-impending Maka-chop threat. Soul put up his hands between them in defense.
"You were the one who snuck into my room with that dumb nightmare excuse," he replied. "I'm just stating the facts. Thought you were Blair at first."
"Is that an insult?" she asked indignantly, her scowl intensifying.
"Nah. You'd know if it was."
Maka shut her eyes, promptly ending their stupid conversation in an attempt to sleep. She certainly wasn't feeling guilty anymore. Stupid jerk.
For now, her soul is untroubled. In sleep, he can feel her that much easier, dropping her lines of defence in his presence. Soul sighs to himself, and lets go of his own Maka-centric anxieties.
His scar still tingles at the memory of her touch.