more earlyfic.
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO
/pseudonymosity
Earlyfic. There are some things that Soul and Maka have to get used to in their partnership.
He's extraordinarily cool to the touch. Which is surprising, because in his own flesh, when he's human, he's completely warm, like anyone else. As a Weapon, he remains cool throughout, like some AC, right through her gloves. It's pleasant and refreshing for her, because it helps ease the stiffness, the pressure that builds in her carpals and muscles from all the fighting. Her hands, wrists, and arms ache and tense uncomfortably after a certain duration, as the heat and general tightness tends to mount with each swift motion. So the contrast of heat and cold on her hands - it's necessary for her stamina.
She is skillful, yeah, with her reflexes, her Meister abilities as a Scythetechnician. But it doesn't mean there aren't side effects. Occupational hazards. Medusa-sensei's already diagnosed a few symptoms of carpal tunnel - which is only aggravated by Maka's thorough and methodic notetaking. (In the future, when Kidd becomes relevant in her life along with so many other things, she's going to envy Kidd. He is incredibly lucky that he can hold Liz and Patti so painlessly and so effortlessly for a long duration - with his pinkies.)
"Hey. You alright?" He asked, his nonchalance only translating to slightly awkward and discomfort.
"Uh huh," she nodded, as she grabbed the tucked heated towel under the bin, drying her thoroughly iced hands. After doing so, she stiffly stretched out however much she could, to loosen the joints and muscles.
"Maybe we should-"
"It's fine," she said dismissively, not even sure what he was going to suggest to help their situation. She tossed away the towel and rotated her wrists. She lifted her head to smile at him, "It just means I'm doing something right. No pain, no gain!"
There's a pause, of her faltering smile and his standing in the open doorway, pocketed hands and frown. There's a moment: she thinks he's going to turn around and leave the kitchen, leaving this conversation - this issue - in the air.
But he doesn't. His feet are just shifting awkwardly, as he tries to decide to stay or get out.
(And he means get out.)
He submits: "...I'll figure it out."
"We'll figure it out, idiot," she sighs, "help me figure out dinner tonight."
He still needs to learn that theirs is a partnership.
maka. MAKA. and SOUL. ~FEELINGS~