Author Notes: I haven't actually done any notes like this before, wow. I'm excited that so many people wanted to read the second chapter, so I have it here now. Normally I write really quickly but this one took a couple days, sorry.

Anyway, leaves off with Maka's POV, I'll keep alternating.

I haven't at all decided how long this is going to be, but I should have Chapter 3 by Saturday morning. Thanks for reading!

She woke up with the worst headache of a life time and her mouth tasted like rum and socks. She glanced over at the glass of water on her desk. Shit. She intimately remembered throwing herself at her roommate/weapon/closest friend who she couldn't help but be confused about when he looked at her tenderly.

Of course he hadn't been drinking so there was no way he had forgotten either. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She chugged the water and considered her two options: apologizing and telling the truth, or claiming she'd forgotten everything. She heard a knock on her door.

"You up in there?"

When did his voice get that low? Definitely claiming forgetfulness.

"I feel awful," her voice croaked.

"I'm coming in."

Shit. She looked like a mess, and not that hot kind either.

He looked at her with a combination of pity and more pity. "Not feeling so great?"

"That's an understatement."

"I tried to give you water last night," he lectured, handing her some pain meds.

"Really? I don't remember anything haha," she laughed nervously. So fake sounding. She could see in his eyes that he knew she was lying, and that she knew that and understood that they weren't going to talk about it.

She sat on the floor while he cooked eggs, knowing they were her favorite. Her stomach was churning right at the moment, and watching his toned arms from behind wasn't helping her feel any better. She'd certainly been watching him.

She remembered clearly the day they met, his suit was too big for him at the time, and his hair seemed a little wild for his small frame. They were children then, but he still played the piano without hesitation. He had gotten a lot taller.

She really didn't feel like eating anything at the moment, but she was still drooling. Weird.

She never swore in public to cover up her dirty mind.

She hoped to god that Soul was as oblivious as he seemed.

School ended and she followed Soul to his locked to get his stuff, acting the role of the follower this time. Usually it seemed like he was behind her. He opened up the box to find a dozen envelopes falling out.

"Popular as usual," she said brightly. It was gross how much she cared. "I wonder why I never get any of these."

Soul was staring over her shoulder. She looked behind her but saw nothing.

"Yeah, I wonder," he replied, hints of a smirk on his lips. She had no idea what he was hiding but she knew it was something.

She settled into her usual evening spot, stretched out on the couch with her legs on Soul's lap while he played video games. She read and listened to the dull background noise of zombies being shot and began to doze a little. His arms were really warm on her calves and it made her sleepy.

She woke up at a heavy weight and the texture of hair on her thighs. He had fallen asleep and was leaned over her legs, his arms wrapped around them like a security blanket.

"Hey Soul," she murmured, hoping he wouldn't wake up. He rustled a little in his sleep, mostly just hugging her legs tighter. "That's really not fair you know."

Oh well, too late now. She settled lower on the couch and pulled a stray sweatshirt over the top of her as a blanket.

"Goodnight, idiot."

She woke up with a heavy blanket on top of her but no white haired scythe-boy. A little disappointing. He approached with a plate of toast.

"We have to leave in fifteen minute you know," He grumbled.

"What?!" Of course he hadn't woken her up before now. No matter, she didn't have time to Maka-Chop him as she leapt from the couch and hurried to get dressed, leaving the toast untouched by the TV. She threw on her clothes, put her hair up and ran out the door, bag flying behind her. Soul was already waiting at the motorcycle, looking incredibly unflustered.

She held on for dear life as he revved the engine and took off for nowhere.

"You should have woken me up," Soul called over his shoulder.

"What are you talking about," Maka yelled over the engine, "you're the one who let me sleep so late."

"I meant last night."

"Oh." She couldn't really be held responsible for that. "Wait, Soul." She screamed, realization dawning on her. "It's Saturday!" she gripped his shirt, digging her fingernails into his skin. Stupid, ridiculous idiot.

"Yeah I know, there's a movie I want to see."

"So go by yourself! I could have had a peaceful day reading."

"Maka, the only thing less cool than going to a movie with you would be going by myself." He replied scathingly. Ouch.

"Come on, we're here." Soul parked the motorcycle and she climbed off, dusting off her wrinkled skirt.

"I'm gonna guess we're seeing Zombie Slayers IV?"

"That's the one."

"I can't believe you kidnapped me to watch zombies." She grumbled, delusions of some romantic plan raised and crushed in a mere five minutes.

"Come off it Maka, I'll buy you chocolate," he conceded and walked in the theater, money in hand.

She followed him into the movie theater on the end, trusting that he knew what was going on. He sat down low in the seat, giant bag of popcorn in hand. She sat next to him, shoulders, hands, and knees all about an inch apart.

She could almost feel the buzzing of contact though they weren't touching. There's one sided sexual tension for you. It was going to be a long two hours of careful not-touching.

About ten minutes into the gore and gunshots, she dozed off on his shoulder. She hadn't gotten that much sleep in the first place and there was something weirdly soothing about violent background noise. It reminded her of times when things weren't so edgy between them; there was no sense being nervous when they were resonating souls in the heat of battle.

"Oy Maka, wake up, it's over."

Had she really slept through the whole thing?

"You missed all the best parts," he grumbled.

"Whatever, I'm not much of a zombie fan, don't tell Sid though," she yawned and stretched. Two hour awkward time: defeated.

"What would you want to watch?"

"Oh you know me, probably that new adventure flick."

"You want to go see it now?" he grinned. Was he really suggesting theater hopping? "We're already here anyway." Yes, yes he was.

"Let's do it," she returned the smile. The nice thing about Soul was how he made her feel less boring just by his own actions.

They watched every movie in the theater, ending with a nature documentary on polar bears which turned out to be her favorite one. The obviously bored teenager gave them a dirty look on their way out but didn't say anything.

"That was fun, but I don't think I can ever eat popcorn again in my life," she laughed, her hand fitting comfortably into his, no residual weirdness.

"I could probably eat another bucket of it," Soul replied.

"That's disgusting."

"What can I say, I'm a teenage boy," he laughed, and she laughed with him. It was true, you get him together with Black*Star and they could eat as much as any ten normal people. He passed her a helmet and turned the key.

They rode home in silence, but she didn't mind at all. It was nice riding at night; Soul's body heat kept her warm in the cool air and there weren't so many other people out.

"I call the first shower," Soul commented as they walked up the stairs.

"Fine, but let me brush my teeth first," she yawned, maybe she would just shower in the morning.

He walked into the bathroom ahead of her. "Hey Soul, I just said—"

He turned around and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"It's just revenge you know," he smirked and shut the door in her face.

What an idiot. A ridiculous, smooth talking, awkward, perfect idiot scythe-boy.