Summary: In which Maka tries to "level up" her relationship with Soul, Liz makes everything worse, and Soul has terrible taste in porn. [SoMa]
Note: This is a direct sequel to my other Soul Eater fic, A Sunday Kind of Love, but it can also stand alone.
Seven Day Fool
Monday:
Even though Soul had reassured her multiple times that "leveling up" their relationship wouldn't change much, Maka wasn't entirely convinced that was a good thing. On the surface, everything was a great deal the same. They still acted like an old married couple and were disgustingly intimate. They still had hilarious, wacky 3 am conversations ("If Nygus and Sid have sex, is it considered necrophilia?" "Oh my God, shut up, get out of my house") and reveled in their mutual disgust at pet names. She continued to take simple comfort in knowing how Soul liked his coffee (black, one sugar), or how much he hated PDA, or how he always tried to fall asleep on his stomach (to avoid snoring, for Maka's sake).
On the other hand, Soul being comfortable enough with her to pee while she was in the shower or asking her to look at his gross toe every couple of weeks because, quote, "It might be toe cancer, Maka, I swear," end quote, was not Maka's idea of romance. Not, she thought, that she was expecting them to become some lovey-dovey, shmoopy couple. That wasn't their style. No, their idea of romance was breakfast for dinner in their pajamas and Soul remembering to take out the garbage before the ants invaded.
So they had little in the way of amour, but for whatever reason that Maka still couldn't really fathom, Soul really did love her. He was infinitely patient with her and was content to let things continue to develop organically. After his heart stopping confession, Soul had made himself very at home in her bedroom - who knew that someone so standoffish secretly loved to cuddle so much? - but he had never tried anything physical beyond making out and the occasional "accidental" boob graze. Ordinarily she'd be plagued by self doubt and the worry that he wasn't attracted to her, but the awkward erections they both tried desperately to ignore during their more heated makeout sessions reassured her that he found her attractive at least the most basic level.
Maybe he was waiting for her to say "I love you" back?
Or more likely, Maka thought, he was waiting for her to make the first move. He was waiting for her to show him that she was comfortable and ready. To truly level up.
But leveling up surely didn't just happen overnight. As a student of Shibusen, she knew this firsthand. Maka liked to study. She didn't go into situations blindly. She needed to research, then formulate a plan of action before venturing into battle. Being a meister - and a type A, anal retentive perfectionist - meant that Maka needed to be prepared. Soul was currently majoring in going with the flow, but Maka preferred lists and charts and powerpoint presentations.
Aside from the types of women that tended to make Soul spurt blood from his face (read: anyone with large breasts), Maka had absolutely no idea what turned him on. Even her period romance novels weren't very helpful. Soul wasn't a handsome, off-limits stable boy with a chest that glistened in the sun and made her girlhood tremble. He wasn't a dark and mysterious viscount or a sexy lord with a distaste for polite society and a penchant for bookish, innocent girls. Soul was Soul. Sarcastic, rebellious, slightly antisocial Soul with his dumb, adorable face and sexy shoulders and narrow waist that had starred in many of her own fantasies.
And that was where the internet came in.
"This isn't an invasion of privacy," Maka said out loud to no one in particular as she sat down in front of Soul's old laptop. Her mouse hovered over the browser history button, summoning courage from deep inside. "This is research. This is purely scientific. Honestly, Soul should be grateful that I'm even doing this for him."
She took a shaky breath. "Okay, Soul Eater. Let's see what gets you going." Maka clicked the link to a website called "xxxdeathtube" and immediately regretted her decision.
Maka got two minutes into the video "The Panty Wars: Extra Curricular Activities IV" before she decided three things. One, Soul Eater Evans had abysmal taste in pornographic wank material. Two, Soul needed Jesus. Scratch that, he needed the entire holy trinity. And three, the fact that there was a "The Panty Wars: Extra Curricular Activities" I to III made her lose all faith in humanity, but mostly her partner.
Her eyes rolled at a blonde with very large breasts and a schoolgirl uniform flouncing onto the screen. Typical. For a guy that prided himself on being cool and unique, this was all just so… common. "Oh, Soul," she said to herself. "You're such a hopeless nerd."
As if summoned by her insult, Soul's voice floated in from the entryway of their apartment. "I'm home. Maka? Are you here?"
She froze. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," Maka whispered, slamming her finger down on the mouse to get the video to stop. The fake, incessant moaning of the blonde schoolgirl getting reprimanded by her demanding upperclassman was definitely going to betray her location. "Oh God, don't tell me this stupid computer is frozen. Don't do this to me. Come on, come on. Please stop playing."
Soul's heavy footsteps were just outside the door when Maka's panic and adrenaline kicked in. She picked up the laptop and chucked it out of the open window just as he opened the door to find her in his old bedroom. There was a sickening crunch of computer hitting tree branches, but at least the video had presumably stopped. "I was calling for you, didn't you hear me?"
"Ah, no," Maka ran her hands over her skirt and leaned against his desk in order to obscure the now blank space where his laptop once stood.. "I was… cleaning. This room was getting really dusty. Sorry. What's up?"
He gave her an odd look and Maka was grateful that Soul didn't question her obvious lack of cleaning supplies. "Nothing, I'm just dropping some stuff off before I go hang out with Kilik."
"Jam session, right?" Maka hoped that Soul thought her slightly labored breathing and sweating was from her "cleaning" and most definitely not from snooping through his internet porn collection and then ditching the evidence. "Sounds fun. Okay, bye!"
"Wait a second," Soul leaned towards her. Maka held her breath. "You locked yourself up in the school library and haven't been home in three days. Aren't you forgetting something?"
"'Forgetting something?'" Maka parroted back, voice high and strained. He stared at her expectantly. Since entering this new territory of dating, Soul made her so flustered sometimes. "Oh, right! Totally." She grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him hard.
Soul stumbled towards her, hands on either side of the desk to balance himself. "Well, I was going to say that you need to sort your wash before I do the laundry." He was slightly out of breath when they finally parted. Maka could smell his aftershave and her head was so fuzzy that she almost forgot her previous criminal activity. "But this is good, too."
He put his hand on the back of her neck and Maka closed her eyes and prepared to get kissed again. She felt a vibration against her thigh and Soul groaned. "That better be your cellphone."
"Hysterical." Soul frowned. It was cute, Maka thought, that he was sulking over having to leave. "I'm late."
"Go," she said, pushing him playfully out the door. "I'll be here when you get back."
Maka waved and collapsed on the empty desk when Soul was out of sight.
Time of death: 12:07 pm.
Cause: Soul Eater Evans.
Tuesday:
If the Great Laptop Catastrophe of 2015 was any indication, Maka was clearly out of her element in terms of matters of the heart and the boudoir. She was forced to seek the counsel of someone much more experienced, embarrassing as it was. Her choices were limited. It was either Spirit, who would have an aneurysm if he so much as suspected that Soul and Maka were anything but platonic, or Liz, who would make fun of her until the end of time because of Maka's completely inability to function on an emotional level.
Spirit burst into actual tears and threatened family therapy sessions the last time he caught Maka and Soul looking at each other for more than three seconds, so Liz it was.
"I'm garbage," Maka moaned into Liz's pillow after giving her the abridged version of how Soul's computer ended up lodged in a tree outside of their apartment. Liz had laughed so hard that actual tears ran down her cheeks. "I actually went through Soul's stuff and then lied about it. Throw me in the trash where I belong."
Liz flipped the page of her magazine, giggles still escaping every so often. "Please stop pulling a Kid on me. Dramatic, much? So Soul wants to fuck a schoolgirl. Him and every other guy. You've got your old plaid skirt, don't you? Make his dreams a reality, Albarn. Easy."
"Liz!"
The older girl snorted and abandoned her magazine in favor of filing her nails. "It's really not that serious. Soul is stupidly in love with you. Everyone knows that you and your teeny, tiny Britney Spears-esque skirts starred in all of his teenage, hormone-ridden fantasies. I mean… that whole 'riding on your scythe' thing? Come on. The boy's not made of stone. I'm honestly just surprised that it took so long for you two to get your shit together."
"Liz!" Maka whined. "Help me figure out how to do the thing." Liz gestured with her hands for Maka to elaborate. "You know. The Thing."
"What thing? Are you talking about sex? If you can't say sex, then you're not mature enough to be having it. I mean, you can't even say 'nipple', 'moist', or 'panties' without cringing-"
Maka threw her pillow right at Liz's face. "I really don't need this in my life right now! Just help me. Help me before Soul realizes what a mistake he's made in dating me."
Her friend, forever a big sister, looked at her seriously. "You do actually want to sleep with him, right? Because you shouldn't force yourself if you're not ready. It wouldn't be fair to either of you."
"Have you looked at Soul lately?" Maka asked. She didn't know when it happened but one day her thoughts went from, "Oh yeah, Soul is pretty cute with his headbands and pointy smile" to "Oh nooo, he's so hot, it should be illegal to look that good standing in front of the refrigerator chugging OJ from the carton." She blamed puberty and his penchant for low riding jeans and her obviously perverted genetics. There was also love and trust and whatever but it was mostly those jeans and those hip bones, good God. "I'm ready. I just don't want to come off as completely inexperienced and embarrass myself."
Liz crossed her legs, all business. She had just made a deal with the devil, Maka thought. Soul had better appreciate this. "It's gonna cost you. Remember that cutie you you went on your failed date with? The one from the record store. Kaz, the hook sword. Introduce us."
"This is extortion!" Maka gasped.
"This is business," Liz corrected. "Tell him that you know a nice girl from Brooklyn who would be perfect for him."
Maka gave Liz a look. "You used to mug little old men. You're not that nice."
"Do you want my help to seduce your man or not? You think you're the only girl who wants to do The Thing?" Liz screeched and grabbed Maka by the shirt. "Damn it! Now you've got me calling it that!"
"I'm - I'm sorry?"
"Do you even know how long it's been for me?! Do you know how lucky you are?!"
Maka smelled a trick question. "Uh."
"Do you know that I was so hard up that I had to have sex with Kid?!" Maka gasped again, hands flying to her mouth to stifle herself. She wasn't really in a place to judge but still. "Do you know that he made me hold my legs up for four hours because he couldn't stick it in without everything being perfectly symmetrical?!" Liz slammed her hands down on the desk.
Maka suspected there was a lot more to Liz's outrage than simply being unsatisfied. Weapons and meisters had complicated relationships. She knew. She was living it. "S-so you didn't do The -"
"If you call it The Thing one more time," Liz growled, "I'm going to shoot you. And no. After that car crash, I had to talk him down off the ledge when he realized that it was impossible to perfectly time eight orgasms to happen exactly at 8:08 pm."
I will never complain about Soul ever again, Maka thought solemnly. Liz needed a prayer circle for her sanity, the poor girl. "I'll introduce you to any and all available males that I know," Maka promised. "Except my dad because, ew."
"Deal," Liz gave a satisfied nod. "Now, how do you feel about black lace?"
Wednesday:
It turned out that while Maka was partial to black lace (and in truth, she knew Soul was, too), she couldn't quite scrape up the courage to implement Liz's plan of walking into the apartment in nothing but her new bra and underwear set. As far as lingerie went it wasn't nearly as scandalous as some of the things Liz wanted her to buy (Corsets? G-strings? Absolutely not) but it was still embarrassing.
Luckily, her body had been nearly destroyed from an intense training session with Black*Star, so no one would be having any kind of sex in the Albarn-Eater residence tonight.
She couldn't recall how she got from the school back to their apartment but Maka woke up some hours later face down on the couch with Soul hovering over her. He was carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a towel in the other. "You look like shit," Soul said, his concerned face belying his harsh words.
To be fair, she hadn't showered or changed out of her dirty and bloody training clothes, so she really did look like shit. Did he really have to rub it in? "Lemme alone," Maka slurred. "Your friend Black*Star definitely punctured my lung. That idiot never holds back."
"Why is he my friend whenever he does something wrong?" Soul put down the cup and dragged her off of the couch. He half carried her to the bathroom and sat her down on the edge of the already filled tub. "You need a bath. You reek."
"Your face reeks," Maka muttered under her breath. She knew that all of his words were borne of love but it didn't make her feel particularly good knowing that she smelled like something died.
Maka moved to peel off her shirt and paused. Soul was still there crouched by the bathtub. "Do you need something?"
"Not really." Soul added more hot water to the bath, checking the temperature with his fingers every so often.
"Then could you, maybe, I don't know, get out?"
He scowled at her. Maybe she was being a bit ungrateful but she was cranky and tired and she wasn't wearing cute underwear. "You think I'm going to let an exhausted, injured person take a bath alone? Just get in."
Maka waited for the usual follow up of, "Like I'd be interested in your skinny body" or "Don't flatter yourself, washboard chest" but none of them came. Soul had even pointedly looked away and busied himself with shuffling through the medicine cabinets while she undressed. There was no arguing with him when he got like this, so hardheaded as she was, Maka relented.
Black*Star had been kind enough not to break any bones and only left her with the gift of annoying, superficial injuries to parts of her body she could cover with clothes. She cleaned them gently with mild soap, wincing every so often. Maka tried not to voice any discomfort; Soul was such a mother hen sometimes. "Soul? Towel, please?"
"You're not going to wash your hair?" Soul dutifully handed over the towel, still looking away until she was covered. "It -"
"- reeks, I know all about it." Maka rolled her eyes and wrapped the towel around herself. Her left shoulder throbbed and she was pretty sure Black*Star left a sneaker shaped bruise on her bicep. "Leave me alone."
Soul sighed and opened up their linen closet, bringing out a folding chair. He opened in front of the bathroom sink. "Sit."
"But-"
"Sit," he insisted. "I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you when you smell like roadkill. For once, don't argue."
Maka hunkered down in the chair and tilted her head back into the sink. Soul could have slept in his old bed if he was so opposed to her scent but Maka supposed that would have seriously cut into his cuddle time. Besides, it felt heavenly to have someone else wash her hair. She closed her eyes and let Soul work without protest. Long, pianist fingers massaged the shampoo into her hair and scalp. "This feels amazing," Maka sighed. "Have I told you lately that you're my favorite?"
He snorted. "I don't think you've told me that ever."
Maka drifted in and out, only waking fully when Soul started towel drying. "Go put clothes on and I'll get the blow dryer," he ordered. So bossy. Maka kind of liked it when he took charge.
"Okay, Mom," Maka stuck her tongue out at him and hobbled to the bedroom. She threw on a pair of Soul's old flannel pajama pants that didn't fit him anymore and a soft, long sleeved shirt. Soul appeared moments later, as promised, with the blow dryer. "Are you seriously going to blow dry my hair for me, too?" He was being awfully nice.
Suspiciously so.
She sat at her vanity and Soul stood behind her, turning the dryer on wordlessly. It was a little embarrassing to watch their reflections in the large mirror. The room was dimly lit but Maka could see herself blushing. Soul looked so comfortable running his fingers through her hair as he worked. It was small, intimate moments like these that she enjoyed the most. Everything felt so warm and comfortable and Soul was so sweet when he thought no one was looking. "I love you."
"What?" Soul shouted over the noise of the dryer.
"What?" Maka screamed back in alarm. She hadn't meant to say that aloud. Had he heard her? "What what?"
He clicked off the dryer. "Did you say something?"
"N-no," Maka stood up and shook her newly dried hair out. It smelled like Soul's shampoo. "Nothing. Thanks for the help. Let's go to bed?"
Maka slipped under the covers and waited for Soul to join her, heart still hammering from her unheard confession. They laid side by side, comfortably enjoying each other's presence. Her hand found his under the covers and she traced nonsensical patterns along his palm and arm. His hand gripped hers suddenly. "Soul?"
His mouth was set in a firm line. Soul had the same look on his face that he had when he accidentally doubled up on detergent in their washing machine and Maka came home to a floating cat in an ocean of suds in their apartment. Here it comes, Maka thought. The reason why he had been extra nice to her. "What're you doing tomorrow night?"
"Err… I was planning on doing some dissertation writing and paper grading. The same thing I do pretty much every night," Maka rolled onto her side. Every muscle in Soul's body was tense. She reached out with her free hand to rest on his chest."Is something up?"
"No. Nothing. Was just wondering."
Oh, bullshit. But after years of living with Soul, she knew that harping on him wouldn't get her answers any faster. He would tell her when he was ready. "Okay. Night, then."
Maka closed her eyes. A couple moments of silence followed before Soul spoke up again. "My brother called. My parents are having this stupid thing."
"What kind of thing?" Maka inquired. "Are we talking a party thing or a funeral thing?"
"It's their thirtieth anniversary so they're having some crazy gala in New York." Soul would rather swallow glass than go to a party, let alone a family event, and his tone said as much. "Normally I wouldn't even think of going but Wes was all…"
Maka squeezed his hand encouragingly. "'Wes was all' what?"
He finally turned to face her. "He said our grandmother hasn't been well lately. He didn't really go into details but it's probably bad."
"So, why don't you go? It's last minute but it's off season, so you could probably find a flight from here to New York," Maka sat up in bed. "I'll help you pack. Tomorrow, if you want, I can drive you to the-"
"Come with me?"
She had a nice, new dress hung somewhere in the back of her closet and Maka was curious about the Evans' family. Wasn't this the equivalent of taking her home to meet the parents? This was serious in a lot of ways. "Of course," Maka snuggled closer to his side. He put his arm around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I'd be happy to."
The things she did for love.
Thursday:
Soul was not a sharer by nature. He had always been tightlipped about his family, so Maka had to rely on Google and her expansive knowledge of Korean dramas to fill in the blanks. While Soul slept soundly and drooled on her shoulder, she concocted an entire backstory for her partner during their five hour flight from Nevada to New York City.
She imagined that his parents, both musicians, were strict teachers and disciplinarians and that was why Soul had avoided the piano for so long. Maybe they were the type of people who compared him to his brother. Maybe Soul felt that he could never measure up, no matter how hard he tried, because his parents never believed in him. It seemed plausible, though Soul had never really said a bad word about them.
His mother, Anneliese Alden, a brilliant opera star, was born a rich daughter of the revolution that could trace her lineage back to the Mayflower. She was beautiful, of course, and from old money, but bored of the endless of parade of rich suitors that were fighting for her attention. Soul's father, Donovan Evans, a now world renowned composer, fell in love with his mother at first sight during a particularly impressive performance of Madama Butterfly in the Auditorium di Milano in Italy. Although at the time he had almost no money to his name, they had a whirlwind European romance and eloped.
Soul's grandmother, Sophia Alden, the true matriarch of the family, a fierce businesswoman with a heart of stone and a spine of steel, disapproved of the match and almost disowned the couple and wrote them out of her will but then reconsidered after Wes was born.
Wes Evans. Perhaps the most mysterious and intriguing entity of them all.
Soul had dropped a few hints about his brother, who was apparently handsome, charming, and outrageously talented. Wes Evans was a pretty popular musician if the copious amounts of fansites were any indication, and Maka knew that he was the main source of Soul's self inflicted inferiority complex. But Soul seemed to respect his talent and the few things he shared seemed positive. Wes was, after all, the one who encouraged Soul to come and made all of their travel arrangements, so how bad could he be? Maka thought it would be nice if the two brothers could have a good talk but she knew family dynamics were complicated.
The St. Regis hotel in Manhattan was one of the most beautiful places Maka had ever stepped foot in. "Gaudy," Soul said loudly as he pressed a crisp bill into the hand of the valet to park their rented car, but Maka, who was used to bowling alley birthday parties and Las Vegas weddings, was impressed. There were golden ceilings, shiny marble floors, paintings, sculptures and floral arrangement as far as the eye could see. Even the people that walked into the grand ballroom seemed more beautiful than the average person somehow.
Maka was not materialistic by nature. She was happy to live humbly with Soul in their tiny apartment filled with books and records and blanket fortes but as Kim so aptly put it: "Rich or poor, it's good to have money." This whole affair seemed very romantic and foreign to her and she hoped that she wouldn't embarrass Soul by using the wrong fork at dinner.
"If your mother offers me a million dollars not to marry you," Maka said, voice hushed in awe, watching a white gloved waiter offer caviar and champagne to one of the guests, "I'm going to take it and never look back."
Soul finally cracked a smile for the first time since they left the desert. "You watch too many soap operas. Sorry to say that I'm not worth a million."
Maka playfully tapped his ribs with her knuckle at his self deprecation. He probably had no idea how ridiculously handsome he looked in in his black suit and how much she wanted to kiss the skin between his jaw and his shirt collar. "Just for that, I'm raising my asking price to two million."
She smoothed her hands nervously over her dress, a long sleeved, black lace evening gown that had cost nearly two paychecks. It was demure enough not to set off the Gold Digger alarms, Liz assured her via text, but it hugged her figure enough to put a sparkle in Soul's eye every time he snuck a look at her. Maka resisted the urge to lick off her red lipstick, pick off her nail polish, or fidget in her too high heels. Even though Soul couldn't care less what his family thought of him, Maka wanted to make a good impression.
"Nice dress," he said as if reading her thoughts. He put his hand on her lower back and guided her into the ballroom. "New?"
"Kind of. Never worn it but I got it awhile ago," Maka said lightly. "And please. With the way you've been checking me out I think this dress is more than 'nice'."
Soul grinned but didn't refute her claims. As soon as people started to recognize him and made their way over, his smile dropped. "Let's just say hi to my family, eat steak, and get the fuck out of here."
"Excuse you, Soul Eater Evans, it took us five hours to get here and twice that long for me to squeeze into this dress. We're going to enjoy tonight whether you like it or not." Maka turned and accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter. "Meister's orders. Now start drinking."
He muttered something about her unfairly pulling the meister card when a very attractive older couple made their way over to them. The man was very dapper in a black tux and the woman wore a modest but classy gown in silver chiffon. "Soul!" The woman, who had white-blond hair and soft, pretty features, threw her arms around Soul. "It's been so long!"
"Too long. We know you're busy keeping the world safe but you should show your face once in a while." The man had a full, dirty blond beard and diamond cufflinks that sparkled brilliantly. Maka wondered if they were relatives.
Soul begrudgingly accepted the hug from the woman and a pat on the shoulder from the man. "I know, I know."
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" the woman asked Soul, looking over his shoulder at Maka. "I'm so sorry for his rudeness. I don't know where he gets it from."
"Oh, it's okay. I'm used to it," Maka said easily.
Soul rolled his eyes. "Mom, Dad, this is Maka Albarn. Maka, my parents."
Maka nearly choked on her champagne. She threw Soul a dirty look. Jeez, couldn't he give her more notice? She cleared her throat and held out her hand to Soul's mother. "I'm Maka Albarn. It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for the invitation."
Anneliese Evans completely ignored the hand and instead gave Maka a hug and an air kiss. Soul made a heaving motion behind her and Maka struggled not to laugh. "The pleasure is ours. We've been wanting to meet you for a while, but Soul has become a master at ditching family events. Isn't that right, Don?"
Donovan Evans shrugged in the devil may care sort of way that Soul had definitely inherited. "Come on, Annie. Give him a break." He slapped Soul on the back. "It wouldn't kill you to pick up the phone and call your mother more often, though. You know how she worries."
"Yeah," Soul stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sorry."
The Evans' seemed nice, if not a bit plastic. Their pleasantries were practiced and refined and it seemed like everything they did, including this party, was for show. They didn't seem to dislike Soul but there was a certain coolness to their interactions. Even their concern for him was manufactured. Maka bet that Soul grew up with maids and tutors and very little interaction or warmth from his parents. They seemed like the sort of people who really cared what others thought of them, so unlike Soul.
Maybe he was adopted.
Or not, Maka thought as Wes Evans strode over to them. In his own black suit he was the spitting image of Soul. "So you're the infamous Maka Albarn," Wes said, holding out his hand. Soul watched their every move like a hawk. "A pleasure."
"Likewise." Maka had to stop herself from staring at what could only be described as an older Soul. Wes Evans was, as Liz would say, a complete babe.
"Where's Granny?" Soul asked his brother immediately.
"You're not even going to say hi?" Wes laughed. "He's always been such a grandma's boy," Wes faux whispered to Maka. Maka smiled from behind her champagne glass, enjoying the way Soul flushed and bristled. She liked Wes, she decided. "He's the favorite."
It was really cute, Maka thought, how the two brothers interacted.
"Cut the shi-"
"Soul," Anneliese warned. "Language."
"Is she even sick?" Soul asked, his scowl back at full force.
"Well," Wes said, "she's eighty one. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that she's not as healthy as she used to be."
Maka was sure that Soul was going to take a swing at Wes. "You are such an asshole-"
"Language!" Anneliese admonished. Maka could see where Soul got his impressive frowning abilities from. "Can we please pretend to be civilized for five minutes? Wes, stop teasing your brother. Soul, go say hi to your grandmother. Don, let's go greet the rest of the guests. Maka, it was so lovely to meet you. We must talk more later."
"It was nice to meet you, too," Maka weakly waved. She doubted that Soul's parents would deign to talk with her again and it suited her just fine.
"I'll be right back," Soul touched Maka's elbow. "Meet me on the veranda outside in ten minutes. Bring an entire bottle of champagne. On second thought, bring the entire bar."
"I'll see what I can do," she promised. "Now go! Don't keep a nice, old lady waiting."
Wes smiled brilliantly at Soul. "Don't worry about Ms. Albarn. I'll keep her company while you're gone." Wes took Maka by the arm before Soul could have a chance to protest. "Let's dance, shall we?"
Maka put her glass on a nearby table. She didn't want to refuse him but Soul looked like he was going to breathe fire and also? She wasn't the best dancer. "Oh, I'm not really-"
"Don't worry," Wes assured her, "I'll lead."
It was, Maka found, very hard to say no to someone as charming as Wes Evans, especially when he sounded exactly like Soul when she closed her eyes. She put one hand on his shoulder and let him take her other hand in his. "So, your grandmother really isn't sick?"
"It was a little extreme but I knew that it was the only way to get Soul to come," Wes explained. "She really did want to see him. Don't think too badly of me." He placed his hand on her lower back. "And I really wanted to meet you."
"Me?" Maka asked.
He nodded. "Can I ask you something? Why did you decide to partner up with Soul in the first place?"
Maka looked at Wes. There were a lot of reasons but no one outside of her or Soul could ever understand. "I like the way he plays the piano."
Wes smiled what Maka thought was a very big brotherly smile. He dipped her without warning and laughed at her little shriek of surprise. "What a coincidence. So do I."
/
As soon as Soul and Maka got back to the hotel room, they collapsed on the bed. They were still wearing their clothes. It had been a very exhausting trip but Maka was glad that they had come. Maybe they both had gotten the closure that they so desperately wanted - Soul with his family, Maka with her feelings for Soul.
"Do you have a crush on my brother?" Soul asked. "The way you were mooning over him when you danced was gross."
Maka rolled her eyes. Soul wasn't a jealous person by nature but she supposed all the rules flew out the window when it came to Wes. She couldn't help but tease him a little: "Why?" Maka gave a girlish giggle. "Did he ask about me?"
He tugged her hair lightly. "Not funny. Wes really likes you. Maybe he'll offer you one million dollars to be with him instead."
"Well, that would be awkward," Maka said and leaned over to kiss him, "because I'm already in love with his little brother."
Friday:
"So, did you do the dirty deed?"
Maka rubbed the bridge of her nose. "No, Liz," she said into her cellphone, "I did not. Could you please come pick us up at the airport around 8:00?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever. So nothing happened?"
Maka looked around to make sure Soul was out of hearing range. He was buying out a vending machine, which bought her some time. "Some stuff," she whispered.
"That's good! Under the bra stuff?"
"Liz!" Maka hissed. "Fine, yes. A little."
"That's great! And then?"
"And then nothing," Maka said. "We were exhausted and - and very unprepared."
Liz hummed. "No condom, huh. That sucks. Couldn't he have just done the whole 'pull out and hope for the best' thing?"
"I hate you."
"Did he live up to the name Eater?"
"You're disgusting! I'm hanging up, Liz. Be there at 8:00, okay? Seriously!
"I'm not hearing a no." Liz made an obscene slurping noise and dissolved into laughter.
"Go to church, Liz. Get right with God."
Saturday:
Maka held up the lacy lingerie set and scrutinized it.
Maybe next time, she decided and carefully put it back in the drawer. Or not.
Sunday:
Their first time was nothing like the romance novels promised. It was awkward and slightly painful and Soul almost knocked himself unconscious on their headboard. There was a lot of slippage and displacement of body fluids and if it were with anyone else, Maka would be absolutely horrified. It took no less than four condoms before they managed to get it on right. Soul finished too quickly and Maka not at all but she wouldn't change it for anything.
"Quick break and then we'll pick up where we left off," Maka huffed and took a swig of the water bottle she kept by their bed. "Think of it as training."
Soul dragged her against his side and his fingers traced her ribs and hip bones lovingly. "You won't hear me complaining."
With their newfound intimacy and transparency, Maka decided it was time to come clean about one last thing that was weighing on her conscience. "I have a confession to make." Maka winced. "I... might not have been completely honest about what happened to your laptop."
"You're kidding," Soul's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You mean a squirrel didn't jump in through the window and attempt to steal it only to have its nefarious plans thwarted by you?"
"Ugh, okay. Can you please hear me out without judgment?"
Soul crawled on top of her, supporting his weight on his arms. "Real talk: I don't even care what happened to it. You're weird, your dad is weird, where you grew up was weird, and everything we do is weird. It comes with the territory and I've accepted it. Besides, you bought me a new one so I have no complaints."
Maka sighed with relief. She really loved this man. "You're my favorite."
"Glad to hear it," Soul said and held his hand up for a high five, their signal that it was time for hard training to begin. Maka slapped it enthusiastically. "Now, on to round two."