A/N: My first Soul Eater fic'. And, actually, probably my first, or one of my first stories that I actually put effort into.

Typical plot is typical, my apologies.

Disclaimer: Soul Eater isn't mine. However, considering this is fan-fiction, one would assume that to be obvious.

"Hey, Soul," Maka started, averting her eyes from the television screen to stare at something of less importance, "what do you think of me?"

If she wasn't already nervous, there was no doubt in the world that she was about to explode as he shifted his gaze to her and muted the TV. She was prepared for his answer; it would be the truth and she'd have to accept it for what it is. The answer she anxiously waited for felt like a slap in the face to all the courage she'd mustered up to ask that single question,

"What do you mean?"

No - just, no. He did not just ask that. He was not going to force Maka, the misandrist Maka, to repeat herself, and be straight-forward about it at that. Maka decided it'd be a great idea to back-peddal now - back-peddal like hell.

"Oh, I just mean," Maka searched her brain for a last minute 'explanation', "wasn't I just super cool today at our training?" Maka gave Soul a fake grin. She then mentally slapped herself for giving off the impression that she'd been hanging around Black Star a tad too much, which, she'd probably never do if she had a say in the matter.

Soul stared at her for a moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter, "That's hilarious!" Soul continued laughing, "The only times you're ever 'cool' are because you have an awesome guy like me for a weapon," Soul finished, grinning.

Maka bit her lip and looked down, bangs concealing her green orbs. "Did I really even need to ask?" she whispered to herself.

Though hardly audible, Soul caught it still, and instantly his smile dissipated.

Why did she sound so disappointed? He wasn't exactly what one would call a 'motivational speaker', and she was well aware of that fact. Was she genuinely upset that he said she wasn't cool? Couldn't she just Maka-chop him? Not that he wanted that.

"Hey, don't take that to heart," Soul tried to make the obviously hurt girl beside him feel better, "you're, uh, very cool, Maka." Yeah. That sounded good.

Maka looked up at her weapon with a small smile, "I didn't take anything to heart; I don't really care what you think of me anyway."

That damn wording again. Why did it sound like she meant something else?

Maka suddenly rose from her seat. "I'm going to bed," she announced, without giving Soul a single glance, "good-night." Maka started to leave before she was stopped,

"Hey, hold on a second," Soul grabbed her left wrist, "what's going on with you?" he asked, his tone of voice sounding almost aggressive.

"It's seriously nothing," Maka lied through her teeth, "I'm just tired." She wanted so much to just pour her heart out to him and tell him everything that's been eating away at her for so long, but the consequences of doing so would probably cause her more grief.

"You told me before," Soul tightened his grip, "that I could tell you anything," he looked up at her, even if to only be met with dangling twin-tails. "The same goes for you."

Maka slowly turned to look at him. She could tell he was worried about her. If only she hadn't decided to be 'bold' (or, bold for Maka when dealing with romance, that is), Soul wouldn't be interrogating her; making her feel as if she had to tell him the truth and nothing but as to not disturb the trust they held with each other. And, her wrist wouldn't be gripped so firmly in his hand. Actually, maybe that last part wasn't too bad. "Soul, I..."

"I guess if you really don't wanna' tell me, that's-" Soul stopped talking when he felt a pair of soft lips against his cheek. It lasted for hardly a second, if even, but that was longer than needed to get the self-proclaimed 'cool' teen blushing. "Wh-what the hell was that, Maka?" Soul avoided her gaze while he tried to regain his 'cool' character, apparently believing in the "if I can't see you, you can't see me" theory. Well, it made sense at the time.

"I-I like you, Soul," she admitted weakly. She instantly regretted it when she got no response.

Soul smirked, "And you show that with a kiss on the cheek?" Soul locked eyes with her, "if you're gonna' try and make a point," he leaned in closer to her, "really make a point," Soul closed the distance between them, attacking her mouth with his own.

He just... Did he just... Maka felt her knees weaken as she melted into his kiss.

"Maka," Soul groaned when he felt Maka kiss him back.

If he hadn't already been trying to fully comprehend the fact that he was in the living room, kissing his meister, it all got that much more insane when he felt her wet tongue poke at his mouth, begging to be acquainted with his own. Which, he gladly allowed, of course.

They explored eachother's mouths, exchanging muffled moans/groans before pulling away to catch their breath.

"I like you, too, Maka."

Did I forget to mention I can't write for shit? Oops...