A/N: this is a very old fic that i've recently revised to make better; it's not my best work, but i've decided that i'd post it here anyways. as always, have some fluffy soma smut.
also, i'm super grateful for dolly; thank you for betaing this and offering me positive reinforcement.
It was midnight in Death City. Winter brought with it a bitter breeze, and the wind seemed to whisper softly whenever it swept the streets of the gloomy, cobblestoned city.
Maka Albarn allowed the freezing rain to pour over her cold skin as she sat in silence on a cornerstone in the desolate streets of Death City. She was alone. There was not a human sound to be heard. A chill ran down her spine as a gust of icy wind dominated the night.
Not a soul in sight.
If someone were to view Maka from an outsiders' perspective, they would likely be perplexed. There she sat with her legs crossed and her head bowed, her long blonde hair tied in pigtails with crimson ribbons. Her eyes shined as vividly green and beautiful as the ocean; they were remarkably gorgeous enough that even a forest, magnificent in its summer foliage, could be put to complete shame. Her black stilettos were taken off of her blistered feet and sat beside her, but her elegant black evening gown still draped over her thin body, hugging her slim figure and giving her a sensual appeal. Her hands, hidden beneath tasteful black gloves that reached up to her elbows, rested in her lap.
Maka just left one of Death the Kid's annual parties, but it was a party that she departed from earlier than the rest of the guests. The reason as to why she made a hasty leave was very incomprehensible; it hardly even made any sense to her. But at the party, she had an intense gut feeling that she shouldn't hang around.
The sequence of events that led up to her depart were a series of blurred images and sounds that melted together in her mind; despite these things happening only a short while ago, they were mixed up and almost indistinguishable in her brain as they obscured together and faded softly away from her memory, as her mind tried ruthlessly to push them out. But instead of the recollection leaving her, it seemed to replay itself in her mind.
Soul Eater Evans brushed past the crowd, and as he did so every single person he passed stopped what they were doing to stare at and admire this finessed boy. Soul was looking sharp, handsome; elegant and calmly seductive. He had an odd air of sophistication about him that many never expected to see from him. Soul wore his infamous black suit striped with hints of grey, a crimson collared shirt underneath. The scarlet of his undershirt matched Maka's ribbons. He wore a black tie and always made sure his shoes were polished and his slacks were ironed. His posture was perfect, his scarlet eyes sharp and unreadable, but still captivating in a way that drew you in; he was the type of person you could never understand, but it's hard not to try to fathom him. As he walked, there was a pretentious beat in his step, and a small smirk curved the ends of his lips and bore on his face almost permanently.
Typically, Soul detested being the center of attention, but tonight was an exception. Tonight he was going to show DWMA a piece of who he really is. He inched closer and closer to the grande piano, his footsteps echoing against the glass floors in the silent ballroom of Death the Kid's home.
Maka sat alone in a corner of the room, behaving much unlike herself. She watched Soul move silently, her eyes focused on him alone and nothing else. She watched without a blink of an eye as he sat on the piano stool, and her stare remained unwavering as he hit the first key. Everyone let out a gasp except for her, but she felt as though her insides were splitting apart inside of her.
"That idiot," she whispered under her breath, only audible enough for her to hear alone. Soul was playing the first song he ever played for Maka, the first day they became partners; the song that he played the day he became her other half, until the day she takes her final breaths.
His back was turned to her as his fingers ran over the keyboard in an exquisite, rhythmic pattern, producing some of the most divine music Maka has ever listened to. It has been awhile since she has heard this tune. It was reminiscent. Soul had a talent, which was undeniable; now, everyone in the room was aware of it. It was no longer a secret Maka could keep to herself.
This was when Maka slipped out of the room, without a word or a sound.
The minute Soul ended his concert, he turned around and immediately his eyes searched for his partner. She was nowhere to be found. It didn't take Soul much time to conclude that his partner had left the party completely; however, what Soul could not understand was the reason why she would leave.
The footsteps from Soul's dress shoes emitted a hollow echo against the furnished glass floor as he walked through the appraising crowd and past a bewildered Death the Kid. He exited the banquet without a word and descended the steps onto the cobblestoned path leading into the city, his eyes searching the familiar streets for his partner.
"Maka," Soul shouted, his voice an echo that bounced across the walls of the city, void of another human's shadow. It wasn't long before Soul noticed Maka sitting alone, sticking out like a sore thumb in the empty night. "Maka," he said again, this time in a low whisper as he approached the girl.
Maka's head was bent down and she was staring at her hands, as if they were the most interesting things in the world. She ignored Soul's voice and didn't look up. She didn't say a word.
Soul sighed and made himself comfortable beside his partner on the cornerstone.
A shock ran down the length of Maka's spine as she felt Soul's wavelength next to her.
"What did you come all the way out here for?" Soul inquired, turning his head to look at Maka.
Indignantly Maka turned her head away, her light brown hair flipping in its pigtails. "No reason. Sheesh," Maka muttered, her face flushing as she was being questioned. "Do you have to know about everything I do?"
The truth was, she didn't know her motives herself. All she knew was, she couldn't sit and watch Soul perform with almost everyone in Death City alongside her.
Watching Soul play the piano was a private experience for Maka. She didn't want to share it with anyone else. It was a part of Soul that only she got to see, and she alone. It was the most intimate she and Soul had gotten, the first day they became partners and he played a symphony for her on the piano that night. He showed her a piece of who he really was, and that was precious to her. She didn't want to relive that experience with everyone else from Death City. She didn't want anyone else to see that side of Soul.
In other words, Maka was jealous. She was extremely jealous.
That pretentious show off!
Soul's gaze didn't dare rip away from his partner. Not for the first time, he was noticing how beautiful his meister really was. It was irrevocable to him.
"Why'd you have to go and do that anyway?" Maka grumbled, turning to gaze at Soul. She made a startled squeak and jumped a little, flustered when she turned to see Soul gazing back intently at her.
Most would argue that that wasn't very cool, but Soul saved face eloquently. Instead of turning away or changing his gaze, Soul simply smirked, displaying his toothy grin and looking still into his meister's green eyes.
"What do you mean by that?" Soul asked, grinning. He couldn't help but grin at his pretty little meister. He was every bit amused by her jealousy; this was a realization that was slowly sinking in to Soul's mind.
"I mean why did you have to go and perform for the entirety of DWMA?" Maka demanded. "I thought that was a piece of you only I'd ever get to see."
"Well…yes. It's a part of me that I'd only allow you to see for a very long time," said Soul. "It was hard for me to open up. With you, it came easy, even in the beginning I knew I could trust you."
Maka looked crestfallen rather than flattered. "So then why," she began slowly, "why were you able to perform just now? In front of all of them?" She was stumbling over her words in her own confusion and jealousy.
"Because I'm finally able to open up," said Soul. "At least a little bit." He shrugged. "That's not anywhere near who I am. C'mon Maka, you know I'm much more complex than that.I just showed them a sneak preview."
Maka paused for a moment to ponder this. It made enough sense.
"Then when am I going to see more of you?" she asked. She knew she was being selfish and intrusive, but her jealousy plagued her mind and controlled her words.
"I was planning to tonight, actually," Soul said, smirking. He stood up, brushing off his suit and looming over his vulnerable looking meister. The rain weighed down their damp hair, and their clothes were soaked. "Now stop sitting here in the rain. Let's go home," Soul said, reaching out his hand for Maka to grab. "I'll even be cool enough to help you up."
Maka stood up, grabbing his hand and treasuring the warmth of Soul's fingers as his hand was holding her's. "Okay," Maka whispered, a small smile betraying her lips.
With a grin, Soul gripped Maka's hand tightly and began running, dragging Maka behind him as he raced back to Kid's house to retrieve his motor bike. "Let's go then!"
Soul and Maka's apartment is a bit stuffed, so the grande piano that Soul inherited from his father occupied his and Maka's bedroom. Soul took off his suit jacket and sat at the piano, while Maka sat at the edge of the bed and took off her gloves.
Without another word, Soul began playing his personal symphony.
Maka closed her eyes and allowed the symphony to envelope her. The swell of the music made her body feel heavy, and she stayed frigid for an extremely long period of time as Soul played ruthlessly on the grande piano.
Everything was still; there was not a sound to be heard except for the music emitting from Soul's hands. Her heartbeat lined up with the bass notes, as if he was playing in tune with her anatomy.
She opened her eyes and stared at his fragile hands. She couldn't rip her eyes away from his god damned hands. They were so graceful, moving deftly across the keys with rhythm and a sense of urgency. She wanted to grab his hands and hold onto them for the remainder of her life.
The music emitting from Soul's piano seemed to be coming from his very being, and it evoked a feeling in Maka that was incomprehensible to her. A simple tune has never made her feel this way before; but this tune wasn't so simple, was it?
When Soul was finished, Maka found herself unable to express nothing more than complete and utter shock. She had just heard the most beautiful tune she's ever listened to; the most engaging and alluring sound she's ever heard. Mouth gaped open, she said nothing but stared at Soul with a mixture of lust and admiration in her eyes.
"Soul, that was… that was so…"
Soul smirked, and turned around to look at her. Without another word, he approached her; his footsteps were slow but he walked with a purpose. He lifted her chin, his fingers grazing the surface of her skin, and pressed his lips against hers. As he kissed her, he cupped her cheeks in his calloused hands.
He kissed her for a very, very long time.
They kissed as they walked towards the bed, and he pushed her gently onto the mattress and straddled on top of her, his tongue moving over lips and across her tongue, chasing it inside of her mouth. She was all intakes of breath and mumbles of lust. He slowly inched closer to her neck and began kissing the length of it, sucking and nibbling on her flesh.
He swiftly moved back to her lips, unable to resist the temptation. His tongue swept the bottom of her lip, and his fingers gently caressed her cheek. Her leg was propped against his side, and she began rubbing up his leg fervently as euphoria pulsed through her body and mind.
Her heartbeat was in his ears as he kissed along her neck and across her protruding collarbones.
He sat up, his mouth never leaving her's, as he removed his shirt. Next, he removed her dress, allowing her to slip gently out of it. Maka fumbled with her hands behind her back as she kissed him, her mind in a blissful haze. She unstrapped her bra and removed it off of her bare body.
Soul couldn't stop touching her. Everywhere. Grabbing her breasts, rubbing her back, all the while kissing her passionately; he threw every bit of passion that he put into his music now into Maka.
"Now you've seen who I really am," Soul gasped in between kisses; a whisper softly into her ear.
Soul positioned himself on top of Maka and began kissing down her body, leaving a trail of hickies everywhere his tongue ventured. He kissed the inside of her thighs, nibbling on her skin and sucking on it, breathing her in and out like she was the oxygen he required to survive. She was sowarm.
"Maka?" Soul asked, his voice collected but full of desire.
"Yes?" Her voice was barely a whisper; it was a gasp for air, an inaudible shudder in the dark.
Soul backed up and raised Maka's legs above his head, and she wrapped them tightly around his neck. He used his fingers to move her panties to the side. With his adroit fingers, he stroked the skin of her hip, bringing his lips to her skin and kissing slowly up and down her thighs. He gently bit across her navel, kissing and biting every inch of her porcelain skin that he could reach. Maka's body writhed in pleasure as his tongue traced her warm, wet clit and his fingers entered her.
After a brief period of time, Soul looked up from between her legs and stared at her. Her head was lolled back, and he studied her face, which was burning with a scarlet hue. Her eyes were closed and she was gasping for air, pleasure and felicity coursing through her veins.
"Will you let me make love to you?" Soul whispered in her ear, his fingers teasing her and his lips leaving bruises all across her neck and chest and thighs.
"Please," Maka panted.
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," Soul gasped, his voice escaping his mouth in a moan between breaths and kisses.
Maka didn't say a word; in spite of herself, she hardly uttered a sound. All Maka could do was reach her fingertips toward Soul's chest as his body shook. His mouth was against her neck as her nimble fingertips lightly touched the scar on Soul's chest, tracing it up and down as he thrust inside of her.
She wasn't thinking about the way her body felt, and how she felt so good, so full of euphoria; she wasn't thinking about that lightheaded, dreamy feeling rushing through her body at the speed of light. She ignored the rapturous pleasure pulsing through her entire body. That didn't matter to her as much as what was going through her mind at that moment.
All it was that Maka could think about was how Soul would have laid down his life for her, and how she wouldn't think twice about laying down her life for him.
All she could think about was how much she loved that Soul Eater Evans. And how much she loved the man that he really was.
Thunder roared outside. Soul's heavy breathing was the only noise that could be heard inside the quiet room.
"I love you, Maka Albarn."
"I love you too, Soul Evans."