Hello peoples! This is my uh…. 3rd Soul Eater fanfiction, I believe. 3

I can't get enough of unconventional couples. =3

I tried my hardest to keep everyone in character. I'm most worried about Liz and Patti, they don't impress me, I'm not amazed by them, so I haven't paid much attention to their personalities xD THOUGH I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST THEM! They're cool, everyone in the show is, aside from a select few. Very few. God I love Soul Eater… Just sayin'.

Please tell me if I should continue… Posting this. I'll probably continue to write it in my free time anyway, I don't have anything better to do.

I hate him, I thought to myself, glancing across the classroom in his direction. He didn't notice, he never did. I'd gotten in the habit of watching him nearly all class long, day after day. I didn't know why I watched, I couldn't stand to see all of his annoying little habits. They disgusted me, as if his appearance alone wasn't enough.

That hair was the first, most noticeable thing. Bright blue spikes. Not only was it unruly, distracting, unnecessary, but it wasn't even slightly symmetrical. While I knew I didn't have a lot to talk about when it came to the symmetry of hair, I couldn't prevent my imperfection. He could, easily, if he wanted, but he chose not to; a deliberate slap in the face of all that was good in the world.

Then that tattoo. One star. One shoulder. Another thing he could fix easily, just get one to match on the other side, but, of course, he'd refuse, too self-absorbed to be able to fathom the idea that there would be anything wrong enough with him to need to be changed.

Then, his clothes. The simplest thing to fix. He wouldn't even have to give up his style, just a small alteration to the collar of his shirt…

I cringed. So imperfect.

I kept watching him, thinking more. His smile, nearly always present, constantly crooked. Terrible!

I stopped my thoughts of him for a moment as I came upon a small issue with my behavior. It popped into my mind out of nowhere, with no reasoning behind it's arrival (I never would have thought it consciously).

If you hate everything about him, why do you look at him for hours every day?

It was reasonable to wonder, however I wasn't happy with it. I was conflicting with myself.

Obviously I'm watching because it's like a nasty wreck, you just can't look away.

Then I replied to myself, within my mind;

But you have been watching him for long enough now that the shock should have worn off. Why do you still watch? The only thing this is getting you is frustrated, forcing you to defile yourself everyday when you arrive at home to relieve the tension you build up.

I blushed, realizing the simple jump to assuming I watched Black Star to get a sexual thrill. But that wasn't possible. Couldn't be, he was so… wrong.

Suddenly watching him no longer was as justified, and I felt guilty. Maybe I did find him attractive. It wasn't completely impossible. Terribly difficult to accept, but not impossible. I thought about it, he was the one on my mind every day when I got home and worked myself into ecstasy. But I'd never thought anything sexual about him, that would be ridiculous. I wasn't like that; I didn't like men, especially ones like him. The only reason I had to do that was to get rid of stress. Not… Sexual tension. Again, I never thought anything sexual; all I thought when I masturbated was… Well, about his hair, and how I could fix it, and how, if he had a tattoo on his other shoulder, it would look so much better, complimenting his firm shoulders much nicer than just one. Most of all though, I thought that it would be incredibly simple for him to just go without a shirt at all. Not only would it solve the problem of him having on an asymmetrical shirt, but it would also satisfy my curiosity of something else. Something that involved hair color, and whether that blue was natural… After all, it had to match, right? Maybe if he went shirtless there would be a soft trail of hair from his navel to… Well, quite honestly, that's usually as far as I got. But the timing meant nothing; I was obviously thrown into my climax by the idea of symmetry, not of Black Star's… Nether regions.

Then I realized it.

I'd been so caught up in my thoughts I'd been staring through Black Star, not at him, he'd simply become an image with no meaning. Except now this image with no meaning was staring back at me, a confused expression on his face.

I felt my face burn. I shouldn't have done that. I'd let my guard down. I'd never gotten caught in the act of looking at him before. Part of me was actually proud of this fact, with the amount of time I spent staring at him, it was really quite impressive that I'd avoided it completely.

The thought of his firm shoulders… The preference of him going shirtless… Finishing my business as I get to the idea of his… The amount of time I spent staring at him… The fact that I observed him so closely…

I sighed, reluctantly accepting it.

I was attracted to Black Star.

…Who was still staring at me, incredibly confused. Not knowing what else to do, I offered a weak smile and waved. He grinned, waving enthusiastically back at me before returning his attention elsewhere. For once I was glad about how simple his mind was, it meant I didn't have to explain anything.