Dear Maka,
I wrote this because you probably understand me better this way than if I talked, you know I'm not that great at speaking anything that's all soft and mushy.
I'm sorry if putting myself in front of you to block that lunatic kid back in Italy caused you heart ache. I know I said to you that it's the duty of a Meister's weapon to defend their Meister but I didn't do that just because of some silly code of loyalty.
Maka? Sheesh I sound like such a dork to myself trying to put this right…Maka? You are the most wonderful person in the whole world. You're not a pompous flat puss like Death the Kid or a big wind bag like Black Star. In fact, if I may be honest…you're ordinary, plain and tender in a boring yet loving sort of way. You're never flashy, you're never careless and you're always…always caring. You have your Dad's steadfastness and your Mom's gentle face.
Maka? When I'm with you I feel the most wonderful calm I could ever want, every time we go into a fight my heart doesn't go a hundred miles an hour, my temperature never rises and I don't break that much of a sweat and it's because when I can see your face? I know I have nothing to fear.
Maka? I love you, not for your hair nor for your looks…though I'm probably babbling like a dumb moron about now. No Maka…I love you because you are just perfectly the sweetest person I have come to know. I'm not just happy with joy to be teamed with you, I'm happy I just know you.
With love
Your weapon and none other
Soul