When Maka finally woke up from her hellish nightmare, she was covered and sweat and her heart was racing. She thought that maybe she had screamed somewhere in the process of waking up, but she wasn't sure. Details like that often got fuzzy for her when she tried to disengage her brain from nightmares that she had.
As expected of someone who regularly fought demonic monsters, nightmares were a common occurrence for her. This one, however, was a particularly bad one.
It wasn't the visions of blood that had her hands shaking as a sob tore itself from her body. It wasn't even the fear of impending death that curled Maka over, her biceps aching from how hard she was holding her knees against her chest. What had so completely torn through Maka's generally strong nerve had been the knowledge that the wound that had struck Soul when he stepped in front of an attack aimed for her should have been fatal.
Another sob racked her body, her knees wet with tears. She struggled to even out her breath as the vividness of her nightmare slowly wore off.
The image of Soul, lying limp on the ground, blood pooling around him, was still plastered to her mind.
She tried to muffle the sound of her crying against her knee, but realized it was futile when her bedroom door swung open and a voice called out, "Maka?"
In a second, Soul was next to her, having thrown the door shut behind him to dissuade their cat roommate from entering. His hands were on her back rubbing slow, gentle circle.
"Shh," he whispered, resting his head gently against her shoulder for comfort. "You're okay. Everything is okay."
Maka turned into his chest, arms wrapping around him desperately, clinging for clarity. Her hands grazed over the scar that ran across his back from their fight a few years beforehand against the demon blade. Maka pressed her hand flat over the wound and pulled herself against him with crushing force as she cried into his chest.
"What happened?" he buried his face in her hair, arms falling around her, "What was it about?"
She stuttered out an answer between sobs without pulling away to look at his face. Instead she kept her face pressed against his chest where she could feel his heartbeat, strong and reliable. She had to keep reminding herself that he was here and alive or she would break.
"Maka," he breathed her name, pulling her down to lay beside him. She didn't need much convincing, intent on keeping her weapon as close as possible.
"I hate thinking about how I almost lost you that night," her crying had finally slowed.
Soul brought a hand up to smooth her hair and gave a small laugh. "I think it's funny that I was the one injured, but you're the one who's still the most hurt."
She huffed, punching him lightly on the chest. "You almost died."
He sat up to look at her through the darkness. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he told his meister, "But I didn't. You're still stuck with me."
Normally she would have argued with him, but she was too comfortable for had become a tangle of limbs as he held her, her head resting on his bare chest. He was warm and she had been so scared that he was gone. Relief clouded every inch of her body as the nightmare left and it was just her and Soul lying there on her bed.
"I don't want to lose you," she told him, voice shaking.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, telling her, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
She sat up to look at him, lying shirtless, hair mussed from where he had been asleep. His eyes had drooped shut and his breathing had evened out. Through the darkness, she could see the scar across his chest. Without thinking, she reached out and ran her fingertips lightly across it. She could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath and the smoothness of the scar.
He was here. He wasn't dead. Her nightmare had been just that, a nightmare. She hated that she kept having to reconfirm that fact.
Maka couldn't lose him. She almost hated how much she needed him. Soul had become ingrained in every inch of her body. He was always there for her and god damn she needed him to be.
When she reached out to draw Soul into sitting up, his eyes slowly opened and he whined, "I'm trying to sleep, which you already interrupted me from earlier tonight. What is it?"
"I'm sorry," was the only response she gave him as he sat up.
"What is it, Maka," Soul asked, leaning in towards her. "What do you need?"
Her eyes widened. He still didn't get it. Soul had no idea how much he meant to her.
Maka's hand came up to rest on the back of his head, his hair soft under her touch. She was looking at him like he was the only thing in the world and Soul didn't know how to react. She was drawing him forward and he was trapped in big green eyes, obeying her touch.
When she kissed him, it was light and brief, a question and Soul's heart was racing too fast for him to know how to answer. He was wide awake now, staring down at his meister with the same intensity that she had captured him in before.
"Maka," he breathed her name, unable to form any other coherent thought with her hands still on him and the memory of her lips on his buzzing in his head.
She pulled back, panicked. "I'm so sorry, I don't-I didn't-" Maka was stumbling to find an explanation for her actions, but the words weren't coming.
"No, no, you're fine." Soul's hands were on her arms, her shoulders, her neck, then her cheek. Maka rubbed her cheek into his palm and Soul's heart almost exploded at the affectionate moment.
"Maka," he was whispering, thumb rubbing her skin under it, "you know I love you."
Her eyes snapped up. His red eyes were sincere through the darkness; he was chewing on his lip.
A laugh bubbled up out of Maka's throat, her arms thrown over Soul's neck. She was kissing him as if he were the only thing on the planet, tugging at him until he didn't think they could get any closer.
He had almost given his life for her all those years ago. Soul was always giving, giving, giving. He would do anything for his meister. It was her turn to try to give him something in return.
She was putting her heart and soul into her kiss, trying to express everything she felt with it. She needed him. She loved him. He was the best thing in her life and she would do anything for him too.
They were partners, they would go to the end of the world for each other. They might as well have been made for each other.