lost in the moment
by. Poisoned Scarlett
"Hello, Ms. Albarn, how are you today?" Wes asked her a few days later, taking Maka by surprise when she did not find Soul waiting for Gil.
"Oh. Hello, Wes! It's been awhile since I've seen you around here," Maka greeted with a smile, nudging Gil to go with his father. He did so with a great shout, hugging his father's legs for a second before a friend caught his attention and he sling-shot toward him. "Usually Soul comes to pick Gil up! Is he here?"
"Soul got caught up with something at work so he called me ahead of time," Wes explained. "I'm taking Gil with me back to the office today. Hopefully he doesn't make too much of a ruckus..."
"Promise him some ice-cream and he'll be an angel," she suggested.
"Do you bribe my son, Ms. Albarn? Why didn't I think of that before?" He joked and she beamed, definitely able to say that she had missed the man's humor. Wes Evans was a pleasant character to be around although most women wanted him around for less than decent reasons. Maka was glad she was not one of those women although, now that she thought about it, a few of the teachers had taken a liking to Soul. She supposed she was simply more of a Soul-girl than a Wes-girl, even though both brothers had some striking similarities. It was not so much their physical features than their attitude, something that surprised Maka when she realized she had a secret love for sarcastic sweethearts.
"Soul talks about you a lot," Wes suddenly said, giving her a genial smile that Maka was instantly suspicious of.
"Does he?" she replied, making sure not to give anything away with her smile. "Well, he helps Gil a lot with his homework when he stays over, and he helps me keep track of the other children, too, since some parents can't pick up their kids at the end of classes."
"That's strange. He doesn't usually go out of his way to help another person. He must like you," Wes commented, casually, "if he's doing so much."
"It's not much, it's just making sure the kids don't leave my classroom without my permission," Maka told him, offering him a guileless smile that she was very sure he was internally glaring at. She knew an interrogation when she saw one, having been at the butt of them most times with her friends. No doubt he was curious about the reasons Soul had been spending so much time at the elementary school, in particular her.
Truth be told, she was curious, too. However, she did not want anyone to know if things were going the way she thought they would. If they were, she did not want anything to hinder progress. Surely, she thought with an inward sigh, she was taken a little bit too much with the younger Evans if she actually wanted to see where things would go.
"Well, hopefully you could cram some work ethic into my little brother," Wes wrapped up, taking a step back. "He could use it. He's always been on the rebellious side."
"I can tell," Maka quipped, waving at him as he called his son over to his side. Both of them sent her a goodbye wave, Gil the only one to shout it out to her, and Maka went back to her classroom when she saw a few kids standing lonesome by the gates. She felt her heart weight for the shortest one in the litter, a little girl who went by the name of Angela. "Hey, Angie. Why the long face?" Maka asked, holding her hand out to her. "Don't you want to go with the others?"
Angela shook her head and remained quiet. She took Maka's hand instead and let her lead her into the classroom. But Maka remained concerned, watching the little girl absently toy with a few colored pencils. She sat away from the group and eventually was the only one left when four thirty came around. Maka nervously glanced at the clock; no one had ever lasted this long in picking up their child.
Maka stood up from her chair, walking over to Angela. She pulled on a bright smile, but it faltered when the little girl looked away. Maka knelt before her desk, holding her chin up in her hand as she said, "Hey, Angela. What's wrong? You look sad."
"M'not sad," Angela mumbled, picking at the corner of her scratch paper.
"...If something is bothering you, you can always tell me," Maka assured, smiling gently when Angela looked up nervously. "I would do my best to help you, I promise. That's what I'm here for."
Angela looked back down and when she looked back up, Maka saw tears welling in her eyes. "Y-yesterday some bad lady called Medusa took me away from my daddy!"
Maka's brows creased. "Why did she do that?" She grabbed one of the chairs from behind her to sit, reaching over to hold the little girls hand comfortingly.
"I dunno'!"
"Maybe she just wanted to talk to him?"
"N-no…she says daddy d-doesn't take care of me good but it's not true coz he buys me clothes a-and he takes me to the ice-cream store when I've been good! He says that he loves me a lot and he even lets me sleep with him when I get bad dreams a-and he checks under my bed for the boogey man! Who's gonna' keep the boogey man away now that I'm not with him, he's going to eat me!" She cried loudly, clutching her hand tightly.
Maka's eyes softened and rubbed her other hand over the little girls tiny one, having a good idea of what this was about. "Listen, that lady doesn't know what she's just done. But don't be mad at her, okay, she's just doing her job. She might have made a mistake, taking you away from your daddy, but everything will be okay soon," Maka soothed her, squeezing her hand with a sad smile on her face. "I'm sure your daddy will do everything he can to get you back if he can. You just have to be strong for him, okay, and not let the boogey man get you when you're down! If you're strong, the boogey man won't come for you. So be strong, okay?"
Angela nodded her head, sucking back sobs.
"No more crying," Maka soothed, rubbing away her tears with her thumbs. "You have to be strong for your daddy, remember? So the boogy man doesn't get you?"
"M-mhm!" Angela sniffled loudly. "Okay."
"Do you know who was supposed to pick you up?" Maka asked, leading the little girl by the hand to the office. "So we can call them?"
"I-I don't know," Angela replied, apprehensively.
"It's okay. We'll find them," Maka assured, not wanting to stress out the little girl any more. Maka had just packed her things and locked up the classroom when her phone rang, the caller ID reading Soul. "I didn't leave a lot of homework this time, did you get any done in the class?" Maka asked as she picked up the phone, answering and pressing it to her ear.
"S-some…"
"That's good, then you won't have so much when you get home—hi, Soul," Maka answered upon hearing his voice, leading the little girl to the office with their hands swinging between them. "I'm still at the school, actually. Ah, I'll tell you later—I have to get something done over here. I'll call you when I'm done, alright? Okay. Bye." She hung up soon after, sending Angela a smile although she was worried of what would become of the little girl.
She could only take her to the office for now, and she was glad to know that Marie was in today. Marie was the sweetest lady Maka had ever had the pleasure of knowing and she had taken Angela from her hands with a beaming smile and a cheerful reassurance that everything would be okay. Angela seemed to believe it more from her than from Maka, which was not a problem for the elementary school teacher as Marie had that effect on people.
"I'll see you soon, okay?" Maka waved at Angela.
"I'll take care of her," Marie gave Maka a meaningful look before closing the door to her office, taking with it Angela's sad little wave.
Maka stood in the hall for a second, quiet, before cursing softly. She headed over to the parking lot with a troubled frown. That was one way to ruin her day—she hated seeing children so sad, especially with such situations. It always bummed out her evenings. She wished she could do more, but her help could only reach so far. If Maka had any say, she would've taken the little girl home with her to ensure the boogey man didn't get her, and then do everything she could to have her father regain custody of her. Maka had met Mifune many times: he faithfully attended every parent-teacher conference and party they had and had always picked Angela up at 2pm on the dot.
Today was the only day he had faltered, no doubt because he no longer had custody of her. She didn't know who was in charge of her, but obviously Mifune had been forbidden from interacting with the little girl. Maka hoped that whatever mishaps Mifune had with the courts, they were settled soon so Angela could return to her proper place by her father's side.
Once inside her car, Maka flipped her phone open. Her finger hovered over Soul. For a second, she did not want to call him. She wanted to drive him and bury her face in her pillows, perhaps bake some brownies and eat them while she read a book. She could still make it to her yoga class, but she had no desire to bend over backwards when she felt so terrible. But perhaps—no, Maka snapped at herself, that was dumb. She was being dumb for actually feeling lonely. She yearend for company even if it was just for a few seconds. Maka stared at her phone. Just for a few seconds—
"Hey," Maka greeted, reclined in the seat. Her fingers picked at the leather of her seats as Soul asked her why she had to miss a class—making a smile quirk her lips when he said if her rebellious phase was really happening. "No, don't be stupid. I'm twenty six, I'm too old for that."
"You can be sixty and have a rebellious phase," he insisted.
"Shut up. I had to stay because one of the kids in my class didn't get picked up. I asked her why and she started crying, saying someone from child services had taken her away from her dad." Maka let her head bump against the head of her headrest. Her mouth was not cooperating again, saying more than she wanted. "...I don't want to go to my yoga class. I feel sick."
"You gonna' be alright?"
"Yes."
It was quiet for a second, then he asked, "Wanna' tell me about it? There's more that's bugging you."
"No."
"Maka, you suck at lying."
"...I just hate seeing my kids that way," she finally admitted. She flicked her knee and exhaled a heavy breath. "She's only six, why does she have to go through that? Mifune isn't a bad guy; I've met him, he's a little on the serious side but he'd never do anything to hurt Angela. He loves her to bits."
"Child services had a reason to take her from the house," Soul reasoned. "Maybe he's not the guy you think he is."
"He is!" Maka argued, hotly. "Medusa is just a piece of—I mean this isn't the first time she's done this!" She pressed her lips together and sank in her seat. "Hng. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it," she shifted her car into reverse, deciding a long, hot, bath would help sooth her worries. "Anyway, what did you call me for earlier?"
"I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to eat," Soul asked and she felt her heart pick up at the suggestion. "I got out of work late today and I could go for some take-out. But if you're feeling like crap, you should get home and do whatever nerds do in their spare time to relax."
"You mean watch horror movies all night with all the junk food you can imagine?" She hoped and giggled when his tone went warning, telling her not to tempt him that way. After a second, she figured it couldn't hurt. "Do you want to? I own all of the Friday the 13th movies, unless you have to be home?" She felt her spirits rise when he said no, he didn't have to be home; in fact that was a terrific idea, way better than his casual dinner idea. He would drop by the store to pick up some chips since she didn't have any and maybe pick up a few more things, ignoring her when she said he didn't have to.
"Movie marathon it is," he told her and she smiled, feeling better. "I'm only agreeing cuz it's Saturday tomorrow and I've got nothing to do. I can afford to come home late."
"And sleep til dusk," she added jokingly.
"Nothing new."
"I can't sleep past nine," Maka told him honestly, driving back to her apartment quickly so she had some time to shower and clean up before Soul arrived. "I tried once and it was just awful. I had to get up and do something; I can't just lie in bed staring at the ceiling!"
"Seems to me you don't know how to properly waste your life. I'll have to teach you sometime," he smirked and she rolled her eyes, already seeing the familiar edge of her apartment complex.
"I forgot you're the world-champion in laziness," she cheeked, laughing when he deadpanned that he knew at least three other people who would challenge and gladly defeat him in that category. "I'm home. The passcode is pound 5634 to get in. I'm on the second floor, apartment 214. It's on your right," Maka explained to him, relaying her address and telling him that if the front door didn't open the first time, to do it again because it liked to jam sometimes.
She was quick to hurry into her apartment, take a quick shower and change into some casual clothes for the evening. She had debated between her raggedy crosshatch shirt or her new tank top before she decided on the tank top. There was no reason to don a completely outdated shirt. Her eyes wandered over to her spaghetti strap she had lying on her bed and she flushed, scolding herself. That was completely out of the question! She wanted to take this slow and she wanted to be able to trust him, first and foremost, although he already earned a good amount of trust from her. But slow was good; slow and steady won the race.
She didn't want whatever was brewing between them to end so soon, she wanted to preserve it—prolong it, if she could.
She had been making a chocolate smoothie when she heard a knock. She stopped and hurried to the door, taking a breath and opening it with a smile when she saw Soul.
"I got Chinese anyway. I'm hungry," he held out a bag and she took it, allowing him in with a cheery smile. "I guessed on your tray so if you don't like some of it, it's cool. No fish, though," he assured, trying to pass off his gesture with a cool ruffle of his hair. She smiled, touched by it regardless.
"You didn't have to..." she trailed off, placing the trays on her kitchen table. "You can go sit on the couch for now and choose out which movie we should start with. Unless you want to start from the first one?"
"We should, if this is a true marathon," he shrugged. "If we skip around, it'll mess us up."
"Okay then!" Maka went back to her blender, starting it up again. "I'm making a chocolate smoothie—do you want one?"
"Yeah, thanks!" and she stopped the blender to add more ice, starting it up again soon after. When she finished, she poured both of them some and was happy to know there was extra left over. She walked into the living room to find Soul slouched back on her couch, going through the movie cases idly as he waited for her. Maka tapped the glass on the back of his head and grinned when he jumped, looking at her with a tiny glare.
"We haven't even started yet and you're already jumpy?" She teased, going over to get their food. She rounded the couch and handed him his tray of take-out, grabbing the first movie and popping it into the DVD tray.
"Ha, ha. Funny." He chugged half of the glass in one go. "Nice TV. I didn't peg you as the type."
"I didn't buy it," Maka paused to look up at it. He had bought it with such pride that she felt bad for thinking about taking it back for a smaller one. "My papa bought it for me for my birthday. I was going to return it because it was way too big for me and I don't watch a lot of TV, but he looked so happy about it that I couldn't."
"Good thing you didn't, too," Soul said as he forked some chow-mein into his mouth. "It's a damn good TV. Watching movies on this thing is gonna' be awesome."
Maka smiled and went to take a seat beside him, using her remote for the rest. It turned out that he got all her favorite food, something he pinked at before he regained his haughty bravado. She had been right in wearing her safe tank top—halfway through the marathon, at about two am after consuming a gross amount of soda and chips, they laid slumped against each other lazily as they watched Jason stalk another group of high school students.
"Y'know," Soul slurred, eyes heavy. "After three movies, I realize that all the Friday the 13th movies are basically the same, just with different people. Everyone dies, even Jason dies—he just comes back for the sequel."
"I liked the Jason vs. Freddy one," Maka input sleepily. His shoulder was warm but when she shifted earlier on, she discovered that his chest was even warmer. She shifted a little so she wasn't crushing her arm against him and let sleepiness relax her bones when he wiggled his arm from under her and rested it gently over her shoulders. "At least in that one they focus more on Jason and Freddy—everyone else is just in the way."
"That makes things worse."
"I thought it was nice," she murmured. After a moment of dozing, she heard his chest rumble with words and she woke up enough to catch:
"...feel better now?"
Maka nodded quietly, her nose burying in his chest. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of his thumb softly caressing the skin of her shoulder, encouraging him with a soft sigh as Jason made a ruckus on TV. She hadn't felt this relaxed in such a long time; not since she was lived with her mama when she was a young girl. She opened her eyes and wondered why Soul felt like home to her, wondered why she wanted to call him home when even her mother laughed herself silly at the thought of ever making homes out of people. That was why she travelled, that was why she did not have a home to go back to. Homes were dangerous—stagnation was dangerous.
People were not reliable, she had told her, especially men.
But Soul didn't feel that way and Maka wondered if this was how love blind-sighted even the most prepared of people.
If it was, it was no wonder they sought it long after love had faded.
He admitted it was not the smartest decision he could have made. He should have reminded himself to alert Wes that he was going to be home late, should have at least told Blair some thin excuse that would ensure he did not receive any rude wake up calls like this one.
He didn't think that movie marathons would become a thing between him and Maka.
The first time they did it, he had been convinced it was a one-time thing; that it was Maka's own way of coping with the situation regarding the little girl Angela. He had come prepared that time: loaded up with ice-cream and chocolate and chips—enough comfort food to last them the night. He had returned home late morning, stumbling into his bed at around ten and sleeping until evening, when Blair peeked into his apartment and dragged him over to hers for dinner.
He ate dinner with Wes and his family every day because they were family and Blair had taken an affinity to cooking, often wanting an outside (realistic) opinion like his. She liked to experiment and most times the end result was worth it, so Soul did not mind in the least. It also meant a free meal for him.
But after that night with Maka, things had begun to change. Soul would spend progressively more time with the sassy elementary school teacher outside of the classroom, more time watching movies or television with her on the weekends. Things began to get sketchy when he would spend Friday and Saturday at her apartment, waking up in a tangle of limbs on her couch with her slumbering on his chest. He would yawn widely, nudge her off him so he could take a leak, and then make his way over to her kitchen for a bowl of cereal to start the day. She would wake up soon after, lost with her hair sticking up on the back. He had done this so much he could tell anyone who asked her morning routine: she would stifle a yawn, crack her back, and then shuffle to the bathroom for a quick shower. She would come out looking refreshed and new, and tease him for his bedraggled look as he finished his second bowl of cereal.
But watching her stretch her arms over her head and smile at him in a way that made him feel so absolutely content he couldn't begin to describe it, it made him never want to go back to his old lifestyle. The feeling of home he had forgotten had finally returned, warmer than ever, and returning to his apartment made him squirm—because he no longer had to pound on the bathroom door for Maka to hurry up, didn't have to set out two plates for food or shout over his shoulder for Maka to eat her share before he did it for her. He didn't have to drag himself up to pick up his shoes, didn't have to fold his jacket properly and place it on the vanity. It was silent, there was no one who set the rules but him, and he found the silence intimating rather than comforting.
But in spending more time with her, to the point where it was okay to pull her into his arms and let her recline on his chest, he had neglected his family—his real family.
Which was why this phone call should not have come as much of a surprise as it actually did.
"Wes? What the hell—it's five in the morning!" Soul rasped, rubbing the sand out of his eyes. He leaned forward a bit, squinting in the dark to see the outline of Maka's head on his chest. He let his head fall back on the comfy plethora of pillows Maka had set out for him so the arm rest didn't hurt him.
"Exactly, it's five in the morning—where are you, Soul? You haven't been home for the past three days! Blair's gone to check!"
"It's Monday?" Soul asked, surprised. He had never slept at Maka's until Monday morning. He would need to get up fast; he had work in a few hours.
"Where are you, Soul? It's not like you to not come home. We're worried," Wes told him solemnly.
Soul sighed. "I'm fine! Seriously, I'm fine. I just lost track of time." Wes always did this. He was more than old enough to take care of himself yet he was still treated as if he could barely eat with a spoon. "Wes, I don't have to tell you where I am every single moment—!"
"You are an adult, but we're your family, and you owe us at least an alert that you might not be home for the weekend! Being an adult doesn't mean you're safe from everything, anything can happen, and if you suddenly disappear with no word as to where you could be, what are we supposed to think?"
"If you guys called the cops..." Soul growled out warningly, more awake now. He lowered his voice when Maka shifted and exhaled a soft sigh against his collarbone. Wes assured they did not; but they may, next time. "Wes. I'm fine. I'm...at a friend's place, chill out."
"Who? Black Star?"
"I thought you said all I needed to do was give you a heads up," Soul complained. He scowled when Wes insisted he did, but he was curious himself. He had never done this before, who could have actually managed to drag his little brother out of his home for a whole weekend?
"Not Black Star?"
"No."
"...Are you at a girls place?"
"Uh….no?"
"What?" Wes gasped. His brother was a nosy bastard, Soul couldn't help but to think. Blair had only made him worse over the years. "Since when do you date, I thought you swore off it after Claire?"
"I never said that, I said I'd take a break!" Soul bristled. Claire had been the girl he had been seeing in France and Wes had been disappointed to find it had not worked out between them. Wes was only too eager to have his little brother settle down so they could share pregnancy horror stories, Soul thought sourly. "And I'm not dating her! I mean, I haven't asked her," Soul lowered his voice to a mumble, feeling his cheeks heat up at the thought. They hadn't spoken about it at all, actually; it had just become second-nature to cuddle as they watched movies. It had to be a good sign, though, he was positive Maka didn't let just anyone cuddle her.
"Who is she?"
Soul flicked his eyes to the top of Maka's head. He pressed his hand against her back softly, feeling her even breaths. After a second of ensuring she was asleep, he said, "Someone."
"Do I know her?"
Soul grunted in return.
"...If it's who I think it is, no."
"No? What do you mean no—you can't tell me who I can and can't date!" He scowled. Was he serious? Was Wes seriously going to dictate who his twenty six year old brother was going to date? That was levels of uncool!
"She is MY SON'S TEACHER, Soul, and if you screw up his education because you couldn't keep it in your pants—!"
"Lower your goddamn voice, you'll wake her up!" he whispered, sending a queasy look down at Maka.
"What, do you have me on speaker?"
"No!"
"Do you—oh, god, Soul, no. No, don't tell me you two already—!"
"No!" He hissed, hitting his head back on the pillows in frustration while Wes blew out a breath of relief. "I'm not having this conversation with you, hang up! I have to get up to go to work! Thanks for the call, but that's all you're getting from me!"
"Blair told me you two went to high school together!"
"Hang UP!"
"You hold off until my son passes this grade, do you hear me, Soul? You're notorious for dating many girls—!"
"You're such a liar! Quit projecting your regrets onto me," he sneered, sighing when he heard Wes warn him sharply about watching his tongue. It was true, though: Wes usually said that to mock him since Soul always spent his time in his room listening to music instead of 'being a high schooler', as Wes called it. "Do I have to remind you that you were known as a ladies man around the block before you settled down with Blair? Not to mention all the times I had to cover for you or else dad would have your dick in a box—!"
"Be quiet, I get it! We don't speak of that, Blair gets mad!" Wes hastily said.
"She's no better, what's the big deal?" He rolled his eyes. "Perfect match, if you ask me."
"Soul. I'm serious."
"Me, too."
"Soul."
"I have to go to work."
"I'm just concerned BUT IS IT TRUE THAT YOU LIKED HER IN HIGH—!"
Soul hung up, letting his head knock back on the pillows. His arm hung over the edge of the couch and he let his phone thump on the floor after a second. He tried not to think of the hell Wes would give him when he arrived. Wes wasn't usually so loud; this must have been a big thing for him. Any louder and he was sure Maka would have woken up. It surprised him that she hadn't; she was usually a light sleeper...
He nudged her arm, mumbling, "Quit faking. I know you're awake."
Maka finally shifted, peering up at him: wide awake. He raised his eyes up to the ceiling in silent remorse; how much had she heard was the question now. Leave it to Wes to ruin things, leave it to Wes to choose the wrong day to call. He had work in an hour and he was nowhere near ready. He closed his eyes. Today was shaping out to be a bad day.
"I forgot to wake you up last night. I'm sorry," Maka told him softly, pushing off his chest. He missed her weight but he ignored it to grunt out an it's fine. "When do you have to go to work?"
"About an hour," he opened his eyes. "I have to get up now or else I'll be late." He sat up as well, letting her shimmy off him before he swung his legs over the couch, yawning loudly into his hands and rubbing his face out afterward. Maka remained quiet and he knew where this was going without needing to look at her. "...You heard all that," he hedged, deciding he might as well broach the subject before her big brain could think too deep into it.
"Mhm."
"Wes is nosy," he told her with a sigh. "He likes to know everything that's going on in my life. He was the one who brought me back from France," he looked at the television when he said this, not her eyes. "He said it was enough and I needed to stop throwing fits whenever my mom and dad pissed me off."
"What did your parents do to make you so angry you had to leave the country?"
Soul shrugged.
He looked beside him quickly and slouched more when he found her sitting so close to him, their thighs touched. She was looking at him—staring at him. Soul groaned silently and released the breath he had been holding, mumbling out:
"...They wanted me to get into the music industry instead of going to college. They wanted me to do what they wanted, which was to go around playing the piano to whoever paid me high enough because Wes got bored of the fame. According to my parents, I was decent enough to become a big name in the industry. But I didn't want to, so they got mad, and said they'd stop paying my tuition if I did. I went along with it for a while before I dropped out. I didn't want to hate the only thing I actually loved so…I only managed to get a minor in music, never finished my major since I couldn't pay for the next semester," he admitted with downcast eyes. "I moved to France with the intention of starting over but...Wes convinced me to come back and promised not to tell my parents about it."
"So they don't know you're in the U.S.?"
"As far as I know, no. If they did, they would've contacted me already, probably to harass me into going back to playing the piano," he sneered. "I didn't get to finish my major, but even without it, I managed to get the job I wanted to start with."
"You...work at a record company, right?"
Soul nodded.
"You said according to your parents, you're decent at playing the piano," Maka began, her brows creasing when his shoulders tensed. She had caught that look of scorn on his face when said those words. He didn't believe a single thing they said. "Don't you think you're good?"
"...No," he uttered.
"Why not?"
He didn't answer. He sat back on the couch and, when Maka asked again, he did not budge. Not this time, she realized quietly. After a second, Maka slid her hand over to his, her fingers brushing his knuckle. He flashed his eyes to her and she grabbed his hand before she could chicken out, face hot. If she took her hand back, it would've only been more awkward, she told herself. She hoped her courage hadn't been for naught.
"I haven't heard you play, but I know that if you're as passionate about music as you were in high school, then your music must be amazing," she smiled sweetly. He stared at her and she read the incredulity in his eyes.
"You've never heard me play—actually, you didn't even know I could play an instrument until now. How can you say that?"
"I just know," she told him simply, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back and her smile widened. "And as long as you're happy, I don't think it's a bad thing that you didn't finish your major," Maka said reassuringly. Soul's shoulders visibly relaxed; he had been afraid she would look down on him for that, Maka having been the type to take school very seriously. He had forgotten just how kindhearted she really was. "Besides, you can always go back to school! There's no age-limit for college!" She cheerfully told him, making him roll his eyes.
Kindhearted was perhaps not the right word—more like laughingly optimistic.
"Thanks, but no thanks. Not interested anymore," Soul deadpanned. He gave her hand one last thankful squeeze before he stood up. He cracked his back and looked around for his shoes. "I'm gonna' be late if I don't go now. You know where my shoes are?"
"Behind the couch."
"Eh? I didn't leave them there last night…"
"I moved them, you left them by the table," Maka answered.
He peered over the couch and picked them up without another word, pulling them on and then reaching for his jacket, which was thrown over the top of the couch. This time she'd let him leave it there, but he's sure next time she'd insist he fold it and put in her room. She didn't tolerate messiness like he did, but it wasn't a bad thing.
"I'll see you later, I think Wes is gonna' pick up Gil today. If he does, just ignore him if he starts to pry. You don't have to answer anything," he told her, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Maka nodded and shifted her eyes down. His eyes narrowed slightly; she was usually more talkative than this. "Something up, Maka?"
She shook her head. "No, just thinking."
"Uh oh."
When that didn't get a reaction, he paused and looked at her. "Maka?"
Maka dug her toes into the carpet and when she stole a glance at him, finding him looking back, she darted her eyes back to her feet. When she heard him sigh and start to zip up his jacket, Maka took a breath and summoned the most courage she could.
"Are you really interested in me?" She blurted and he stilled. He looked at her cautiously, his worst fears realized. She had heard that; that meant she had heard the rest, too. "E-enough to...begin seeing me seriously? Did you mean that?"
Soul rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit, dropping his eyes to the carpet. "Uh. Yeah," he croaked, clearing his throat. This was the worst; he could not even look at her. Soul focused on his jacket's buckle. "I was gonna' ask you soon, I didn't want you to find out this way."
"Well, next time you should remember not to talk on the phone when I have my ear on your chest," she cheeked and he looked up to find her smiling radiantly at him, making his heart pick up with what it meant. He immediately felt more awake. "You have a really deep voice, the instant you spoke I woke up!"
"I'll keep that in mind next time," he dryly said. "Uh...so…"
Maka looked at him curiously and he sighed heavily, shifting his weight to his other foot. Maka made him feel so under-prepared for everything; only she could have that effect on him, he decided fondly.
"Would you like to go on an actual date with me?" He asked her, holding her eyes as he did. He was glad he did, too, for her saw her lips widen into a bright smile that made his entire self feel lighter than a feather. Asking her anything had been so hard before, yet now everything felt easier.
"I'd love to, Soul," she laughed and he grinned.
"Cool. How about this Friday we go to dinner instead of having a movie marathon?" Soul suggested.
Maka thought about it and then looked up, her eyes bright. "Only if we can have the movie marathon on Saturday!"
Soul smirked. "You got it."
"Okay, then! Friday! At six?" She asked, standing up. Her hair was a mess yet and he was sure he had drooled on his shirt but it was the best day either could have asked for. "Or later?"
Soul was pushing his hair back with a headband and scowling at the drool stains on his shirt, she was making her way to the bathroom to get ready for school and trying to flatten her hair.
"Eight. I got a place in mind and it's better to go at night," Soul hollered, finding his keys on the dining room table. "I'll pick you up, wear something nice!" He smirked when she asked where, her voice doing little to hide her excitement. "It's a surprise. Be patient, jeez," he chuckled when she whined that she might as well know; it wasn't like they were going to hold off seeing each other for the entire week. Soul usually dropped by even if Gil was picked up by his father nowadays. "I'll see you later, I'm running late!"
"Okay! Bye, Soul! Be careful driving!"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't overwork yourself, you dork!" He grinned when he heard her yelp and shut the door behind him, a grin plastered all over his face. Perhaps Wes hadn't messed things up as much as he thought he had—he might have just made the best thing that could have ever happened to him happen.
"I do got this," Soul smirked to himself as he dashed down to his car and started his day.
"What are you doing?" Maka pounced on his back, eying his phone. He exited the web page quickly, but not quickly enough: she still caught the name of the restaurant. Their first date a month ago had been absolutely nerve-wracking for Maka. The date had dwelt in the back of her mind for the entire week and she was guilty of being excited about it, something she hadn't felt in a long time. She had actually gone out of her way to buy a new dress, nothing too flashy or plain—she had been on a mission to find the perfect dress for her night-out with Soul.
After entering many stores and coming out empty-handed, she had eventually found it: a belted light pink tube dress with a sweetheart neckline that didn't completely annoy her. She was usually against such dresses because they were too tight and bold, but when the employee had recommended the dress to her, complimenting her slim figure, Maka had been very happy to see that the dress didn't make her look like a total stick—and the neckline didn't over-emphasis her small bust, either! It was snug around her midsection, but flowed out comfortably from there. It fit her just right and Maka had bought it with hopes that she would look as good as she thought she did. She was extremely glad later: the sight of Soul gaping for words at the sight of her and ending up with a lame, "w-we better get going or else we'll miss our reservation" was always a memory to warm her heart with.
"Nothing! Get off, you're heavy," he complained, looking up at her when she gave him a dark look.
"You're picking out the restaurant! I saw it! I thought we decided that I would pick this time!"
"You are!"
"Then why are you looking for restaurants?" she grumbled. He shifted and she slid to the side. He caught her with the back of his arm, quickly grabbing her so she didn't hit the couch. Maka crawled on her knees and sat back on her thighs as she waited for his reply.
"It's so when your restaurant flops, we can fall back on mine," he cheeked and she smacked his shoulder.
"My choice is going to be way better than yours! Just wait!"
"Oh, really? I took you to the best restaurant in town on our first date, you said so when we arrived," he smirked and she puffed her cheeks, miffed that he remembered such a detail. He had definitely surprised her, never having expected him to take her to such a lavish place. But, then again, Soul lived by the motto go big or go home. Or so he said, Maka thought with a sly grin. He was a lot more reserved than he liked to think.
"Mine is better because I chose it," she stuffed his face with a pillow when he snorted. "But why are you really looking for restaurants? You can't be planning for next time, you don't think that far ahead," she smarted and he kicked her, something she giggled at because he missed and hit his foot on the edge of her coffee table instead.
"I wanted to go for lunch tomorrow," he muffled out, pulling the pillow off his face. "It's nothing fancy, I was thinking the bistro a few blocks down from the school."
"Le petit bistro?" she asked with a cheeky smile he grinned at, reaching over to pull her onto his lap. She wrapped her arm around his neck once she was settled with a happy hum. He had been hesitant to initiate any sort of physical contact the day after their date, during their postponed movie marathon. Maka thought it sweet at first, then spent half the night trying to cuddle without being too obvious—something she failed in, for he eventually caved with the mumbled words of bossy and stubborn against her hair.
"It's a holiday tomorrow, you're off."
"Are you off? I thought you had some things to do at the studio," Maka wondered. She smiled a little at his grimace—he hadn't been very happy with his work the past few days, something Maka made better by stroking his hair. She hadn't taken him for the type to like to be petted, but certainly he had proved her wrong on many things she first thought him as.
"I get off at noon, which is why I want to go eat."
Maka gave him a measured look and then said, "I think we should go eat burgers." She laughed at his skeptical look. "Don't tell me you hate them now! You loved them during high school! You always went out with your friends after school to eat!"
"I loved a lot of things in high school and about ninety percent of them were really, really dumb," he deadpanned.
"But it was all so cool," she mocked. "Is that why you went out to eat burgers, too, because you looked so cool eating with your gang of friends, causing a mess?"
"Don't mock me, it was cool back then—stop laughing," he scowled, unable to help a snort because even he thought it was ridiculous. He had so many ridiculous notions; he was surprised he was still considered cool nowadays.
"No, really, we should just go eat burgers. I want a burger," she added when he looked like he was going to object. They held each other's eyes for a second before Soul caved with a sigh of fine, whatever, but don't complain when you hate it. Maka squeezed him to her in happiness, her arms tight around his neck, and had the thought that this was what people desperately sought—this affection, because although she could honestly say she did not love Soul, she could come to love him, and that was a huge deal for had seen many fall because of love and, although she didn't like thinking negatively, she knew that if things ended badly with Soul she would be very seriously hurt. They hadn't even been dating a month and already she felt so attached to him, something that had taken her months with previous partners—and they hadn't half the trust she had in Soul.
It was a gamble, she thought as she dozed comfortably against his shoulder, and she was never one to gamble.
But blowing into her fist and letting the dice roll had never been so tempting before.
He did take her to a burger place after all.
It was close to where she lived and he told her that he often visited the place because he particularly liked how they grilled their burgers. Although Maka had flatly told him it was an overrated fast food place, no different than any of its competitors, Soul had shrugged it off and told her the cooks here did a decent job for a generic burger.
"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Maka."
"I'm not, I'm just saying that they're all the same," Maka said, standing in line with Soul. She was reading the menu, deciding on two combos as he stood behind her and yawned into his hand. "Is number two any good?"
"I don't like thousand island sauce," he shrugged. "They put a lot on it and it looks gross."
"Now you know how I feel about fish."
"Don't hate on fish, either, it's not their fault you can't see how good it is."
"Me?" Maka gave him a raised brow. "Fish is gross! And the smell sticks on you after you eat it, it's impossible to get rid of! When you ate that salmon plate the second time you took me out? I almost kicked you off the couch, you reeked!"
"It wasn't that bad!"
"If you didn't sleep with your mouth open, maybe," she reminded, smiling brightly at the cashier who looked between them wryly. Soul glared daggers at her back as she ordered for both of them. After a second, Soul smirked and jabbed a finger into Maka's side, earning himself a squeak and a warning growl as they stepped out of line to await their orders.
"Do that again and you won't sleep on the couch!"
"Oh, the couch, because that's such a tragedy," Soul rolled his eyes, their shoulders bumping.
Maka stuck her nose up in the air. "Fine. I was even thinking about letting you use the bed, but since you're being a nuisance, I guess you'll just have to go home and sleep all alone in your huuuge condo," she mocked and squeaked when he wrapped his arms around her waist, squishing her to him as he grinned against her ear:
"You wouldn't be mocking my apartment if you saw it," he watched her grip his hands with both of her own, looking up at him with a racy edge to her grin.
"I'd like to be acquainted with your couch," she suggested, her fingers tightening over his wrist, pushing it a little higher up her stomach until it bumped with the swell of her breasts. They hadn't done much yet, have not kissed aside from the one she planted sweetly on his cheek after their first date, but it was quite excruciating to wake up in the middle of the night and find him lying under her so temptingly, the moonlight cutting his face in a way that made her loins burn.
Soul caught on quick, to her pleasure, grinning against her temple as he flattened his palm on her side, just barely brushing the underside of her breasts. He would have teased her, would have perhaps managed a grope that would have ignited everything, left them in a desperate rush to reach the apartment so he could take care of that yearning he could see in her eyes, had the very person who caused his girlfriend's (if he were so bold as to call her that now) misery in high school not appeared behind him.
"Soul, man, is that you?"
"Black Star?" Maka choked, mood destroyed. Soul dropped his arms from around her and turned, eyes widening when he saw that it really was Black Star. He was in jeans and a blue jersey, his favorite basketball team spelled out in white block letters. His hair was as vivid blue as he remembered it to be, always being the one to dye it such a color when it began to fade. It was spikier this time, less in the shape of a star and more wild as was his nature.
"Hey, Black Star!" Soul high fived him, bumping his fist right after. He noticed Maka refused to turn around and he sighed, knowing this would either end badly or the gods would be on his side and Black Star wouldn't make a total ass of himself. "What's up? I thought you were in Japan?"
"I came back like two months ago. I opening up another dojo here and left the other one to my girl's dad," Black Star told him with a toothy grin.
"You still with Tsubaki?"
"Yep! Engaged, actually," he boasted.
"Huh. Cool. You actually tied yourself down? I thought you said you'd never get married, that it was for chumps," Soul commented, slipping his hands in his pockets. Maka left his side to go pick up their orders. Soul only stifled a sigh and turned his sights back to Black Star. He noticed his friend was looking between them curiously. He must have seen him embracing her from behind. Black Star was dense, but not that dense.
"Tsubaki's my biggest fan," Black Star laughed loudly. "And I'm hers, so it works out. So, who's that girl? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend?"
"She's," Soul paused. There was no use hiding it; the idiot would figure it out soon enough and it was better to come clean than to lie and then face his tantrums. "Don't your recognize her? We went to high school with her."
"Nope! Was she one of my fans? Coz I'm a taken man now, so sorry to have to tell her she's missing out on me!"
Soul rolled his eyes and before he could sarcastically tell him that she was actually one of his hugest fans and would like to personally beat him to a pulp, Maka interjected:
"Are you really that stupid? Don't you remember me, Black Star?"
Soul winced when Black Star frowned, turning to face one slit-eyed Maka Albarn. His friend analyzed her from head to toe, lingering on her face for a moment, before he grinned goofily and held his hands up.
"Nope! Haven't seen you in my life!"
"Are you serious," Soul muttered and had been about to tell him who she was when Maka held a hand up at him, gave him a vicious glare to keep quiet. She shoved their plate of meals into Soul's hands and reached up to part her loose hair in half. She gripped them in pig tails and raised her brows at Black Star, whose eyes slowly widened until he was slack jawed and in awe.
"Holy shit, Maka! Is that you? When did you get hot?"
"I grew up, you idiot!"
Black Star laughed boisterously, slapping Soul on the back while he stared at Maka nervously. She did not look happy. At all. "Hahaha! Way to go, Soul! She's not as hot as my Tsubaki, but she's okay. Who knew that pigtails had it in her?" He laughed harder while Maka's ire slowly rose. "But seriously I didn't think you liked nerds, she's still a nerd, right?"
"If by nerd you mean she actually has a brain, then yes," Soul deadpanned.
"Pfft, does she still color-code her books?"
"She's organized, yeah."
"Man, she must bore you with her trivia, huh? She always did it to everyone, tellin' 'em all these facts whenever she could!"
Soul looked back at Maka and, found her eyes downcast. He could read the hurt she was trying to disguise and he felt anger—fury, actually, as Black Star continued his insulting barrage. Was he really blind to the hurt on her face, didn't he know that those things hurt her, didn't he have any respect for the fact that Soul was with her and not for the fact that she was 'hot' now? Soul was suddenly struck with how she must have felt when they were in high school and felt his guilt weigh in his chest like an anchor. He was very uncool when he was younger, very—but not anymore.
"Black Star, shut up," Soul cut him off abruptly. He locked eyes with him, tone even, "If you say one more thing about my girlfriend, I'm gonna' break your face. This isn't coo, dude."
They held each other's eyes for a moment, a moment that Soul could feel building because he knew Black Star very well. He had been friends with him for a long time and Black Star did not take such threats idly, even in jest. But Soul had kept quiet in high school when Black Star mocked Maka, had gone along with his tasteless jokes, and it had gotten him absolutely nowhere with Maka except on her black list. But now that he had her, after so much struggle to undo the things he had done when he was a naïve, idiotic, teenager, he was not about to ruin things just because his friend thought it funny to poke jabs at her.
But he surprised him: Black Star suddenly grinned, holding his hands up. "Alright, alright. My bad, I was just kidding around."
"It wasn't funny."
"I thought it was funny."
"It really wasn't," he shortly said, looking back at Maka, who stared at him with wide eyes. It made his face hot, something he cursed at because he was sure that after such a dangerous encounter with a guy who once beat a whole gang single-handedly, blushing because he had called her his girlfriend and they hadn't established anything would surely ruin his little show. "Uh, I got to go eat , coz we have to go somewhere after this. So, it was cool seeing you again, maybe we can hang out—!"
"Yeah! Let's go play some basketball tomorrow by the courts! Y'know, by the park? Kilik and the others are gonna' be there!" Black Star enthusiastically said, already forgetting the encounter. Soul was not surprised; he had always been one to get over things in a heartbeat. "Uh, pigtails—!"
"Maka," he corrected, giving him a look that told him he wasn't playing around about the unsightly nickname, either.
"...Right. Maka can come, too. If she wants, whatever. Tsubaki's not gonna' be there, though," he added with a scratch at the back of his head, glancing at Maka.
"What time?"
"'Bout seven."
"Cool. I get out of work by then."
"So you going?"
"Maybe. I'll text you."
"AWESOME!" Black Star exclaimed, running over to stand in line. "You better be on my team, we'll smoke those losers!"
"Sure, whatever," he waved and grabbed Maka by her arm, guiding her away from the blue-haired man who watched them with interested eyes, hands braced behind his head. Soul knew that, sooner or later, the man would pry about him and Maka. After all, it was quite strange that he would hook up with someone Black Star believed he disliked.
"That idiot, I thought he was gonna' stay in Japan," Soul commented.
"...Thanks," Maka told him instead. "For standing up for me back there."
Soul looked up from his burger, finding Maka smiling at him. "No problem. I know, uh, how much you don't like Black Star coz of that, and I told you it was wrong of us to bully you like that."
"I thought you weren't going to stick up for me," Maka admitted, something that made his appetite crumble because he feared she still had doubts about him. "Since I still am a nerd, I guess."
"Maka, you're not a nerd," he sighed. At her unamused look, he corrected: "Okay, you are, but that's not a bad thing. I like it, that's part of the reason I like you," he insisted, something she looked skeptical about. "What?"
"What?"
"You don't believe me."
Maka dropped her fry and looked up at him, her eyes set. "Because he's right! Is it just because nerdy pigtails actually grew some curves and doesn't look like a twelve year boy anymore that you finally decided I was worth dating?"
Honeymoon's over, Soul thought as he put his burger back down.
"No," he said, evenly, knowing he was treading dangerous ground now. "It's because Maka Albarn is a kind, stupidly reckless, fierce woman and I happen to really like kind, stupidly reckless, fierce women. I have since I first met you, even when you looked like a twelve year old boy," he added, something she slit her eyes at. Soul inwardly groaned; now was not a time for his sarcasm to kick in. "Look, I don't care about looks, that's shallow. That's the stupidest thing you can base someone's worth on. It's the soul that matters, Maka, not the body. I didn't suddenly decide to ask you out because you look different! I asked you out because I stopped being so afraid that you'd..."
"I'd what?"
He scowled at his lap instead.
"What, Soul?" She demanded and Soul caught the way she was shaking, furious no doubt.
Before she could stand up and leave, her blurted out: "Reject me! There, I said it!"
"Reject you?"
"I wasn't exactly the nicest person when I was a teenager," he bit out, something she frowned at.
"Soul, I didn't hate you...I just hated how you treated me when we were younger. We went over this."
"Maka, I was a fucking idiot when I was a teenager. I liked you and I didn't do anything to try and show you I did. I alienated you even more," he scowled, not hungry anymore. Talking about his past mistakes had that effect. "Y'know I tried to ask you out to every single dance our school hosted?"
"What...?"
"I never got to, because either I heard you decided to go with your friends or you had someone around you or," he grimaced here, "I chickened out and didn't go at all."
Maka shook her head slowly. "You couldn't have... you never even spoke to me! You did everything you could to get away from me!"
Maka was dense; he forgot about that. "Why do you think that?"
"Because you didn't like me?"
"No, you idiot, I was terrified of you, that's why I didn't talk to you," he exhaled, feeling his face go hot at her open-mouthed look.
"You were scared of me but you liked me?" She repeated, incredulously.
"Ugh, don't you get it? I didn't want to look like a total idiot in front of you," he confessed, feeling like a total idiot now. "I couldn't talk around you so avoiding you was better than looking like a dumbass. I wasn't smart like you, I've never been. I say stupid shit and I said even stupider shit when I was fifteen...and you weren't exactly nice back then, either," he reminded. "Especially not to idiots," he added bitterly.
"So what you mean to tell me is that you've liked me all this time and you didn't say anything because you were scared of me?" Maka slowly said, studying him for any signs of deceit. His shoulders were tense, hand crushing the table side. She could see part of his face despite him looking down, how red it had become the more he talked, how the nerve in his jaw jumped and his Adams apple bounced. She found it absolutely endearing; the thought warmed her heart and made her want to reach over and stroke his hair. "You've had a crush on me for over nine years?"
Soul cringed, looking away to hide his face. When she said it that way, it really did sound pathetic. It had taken him all this time to muster up the courage to ask her out, although, to be fair, some of those years they had taken their own paths. But now they had merged and he was at least glad he had grown some and asked out the only girl who made his heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and swell at the same time.
"This is the truth?"
Soul nodded mutely, not looking at her.
"Soul?"
He still didn't look.
"Soul!"
He clenched his jaw tight and finally looked, meeting her eyes evenly although his face remained red. "Yes, it's true, alright! I thought I got over you after high school, but I see you once and I'm back to being fourteen again. Shut up," he bit out when she barked out a laugh, her hand covering her mouth to hide her delight. This was humiliating; he was tempted to walk out so he could collect the broken pieces of his pride on his own. "It's not funny…this isn't cool."
"Soul," she cooed, reaching over the table.
Soul's eyes widened and he jerked away, groaning pitifully when she crushed his face into her neck, laughing when he tried to push her off and choked out things like so uncool and please get off, people are watching! But she couldn't help it: here she thought Soul had taken an interest because she looked more like a girl, when in reality it was because he had finally mustered up the courage to befriend her and ask her out after all these years. It touched her because he really did try so hard. How could someone lie about something like that when their face could rival tomatoes in color?
"I always thought you were cute, but also a jerk," she laughed when he made a noise between a choke and growl.
"That's so not funny, Maka!"
"You're right. It's not, it's sad," she said softly, pulling away to level their faces. She forced him to look at her, her fingers stroking his warm cheeks. "You liked me for so long and I thought you hated me for so long," she murmured. He held her gaze. "We really were idiots when we were teenagers, huh?"
"Huge idiots," Soul added. "We should get a medal for it." After a second of watching her tender smile, how her eyes looked down and her lashes brushed her cheek, he said: "Black Star was just angry that you ripped his signature in half and threw it in the trashcan. That's the real reason he bullied you, it wasn't coz you were ugly or a nerd. He was just sore someone actually had the balls to do that."
Maka stared at him for a few seconds, then said, "He did all that just because I got tired of having him shove one of his autographs in my face every morning?"
"It's true that you were a nerd back then, and you still are," Soul began, knowing he had to hit on one last thing; the thing that bothered her the most, the thing he had known she cried over because he had seen tears well in her eyes when Black Star said it. He had seen her suck them back bravely too many times to be okay. "But you've never been ugly, Maka. You didn't 'suddenly' become attractive, you've been attractive! You were just absorbed in your books to realize that!"
"You..." she started carefully, scrutinizing his every move, "thought I was pretty back then? Even with the uniform and pigtails?"
"Yes, why is that so hard to—!" and he didn't get a chance to say anything else before she crushed their lips together. Their very first, actual kiss. He would swear he heard the cashier whoop and some people clap, however, the thudding in his ears blocked out the rest.
Gil looked over his shoulder for the sixteenth time that hour, frowning again when he found his teacher gazing out of the window again. She had been doing that a lot lately and it started when his uncle dropped by the other day! Gil was certain his uncle had something to his beloved teacher because she had been staring out that window since.
In Gil's mind, his uncle had tired her out with his presence, which made sense since his uncle could be overbearing at times. That was what his father said, anyway, when he was lingering by the door frame and they didn't notice them. He did not know what 'overbearing' meant but he guessed it meant being too much of a bear and Gil sagely agreed with that: his uncles teeth could scare any right-minded adult out of their wits!
"Miss Albarn!" Gil raised his hand.
"Yes, Gil?"
"I'm done with my quiz!"
"Alright, bring it up to me," Maka smiled and took the paper when Gil ran up to her desk, peering curiously up at her as she skimmed it through and set it face-down on the table. "Is there something else you need, Gil?"
"Umm..." He twiddled his fingers, blurting out: "Is uncle Soul bothering you?"
Maka blinked, taken aback. "No. Of course not, why would you say that?"
"Because I know my uncle can be...be over-bearing and I thought he was bothering you!"
"Overbearing," Maka laughed outright, which made Gil perk up. "That's something new! Where did you hear that one, Gil?"
"My daddy," he admitted, which made Maka grin wider. "And uncle Soul is kinda' like a bear, with his teeth and stuff. I think they're really cool but mommy says that not many people have it so it scares them a lot. I thought he scared you with his teeth!"
"His teeth don't scare me," Maka told him, gently. "In fact, I like his teeth."
"You do?"
"Mhm. I think they're awesome and cool," she added, which made Gil brighten up. "Although that's not what overbearing means. Overbearing means… it means being really, really full of yourself and thinking you're better than everyone to the point where you bother people," she told him simply, which Gil mulled over for a second.
"I don't think uncle is overbearing. I just think he looks like a bear and it's cool!"
"I don't think he's overbearing, either," Maka smiled. "Just pretentious."
"What's that?"
"Being full of yourself," she grinned. "But not to the point where you bother people. Too much," she added to herself so Gil would not hear.
"Uncle's pretentious!" Gil nodded sagely.
"That's right—now go sit down and wait for your classmates to finish. We're still not done for the day, we're going to play a game next!" She said cheerfully, watching the boy hoot and run back to his desk with a giant grin on his face. She let her eyes skim over her class, raising a brow at a student who was none-too-subtly peering over to his neighbor's paper, before she went back to her thoughts.
She was tempted to open those letters Soul had sent her.
They were still in her drawer, untouched. Considering Soul was now officially her boyfriend, she figured opening the letters and seeing what he wrote to her all those weeks ago would be interesting. She did notice that the letters had gotten longer; the envelops thick because Soul had no doubt crammed the papers inside it before he sealed them. He never did take care for such details, Maka thought with a tiny smile.
Maka wondered what he could have written to her that would make her change her mind. Soul once told her he had trouble with words, but writing things down always centered him. It was why he liked to compose, because he could go back to it and edit what he wrote. He could never fear putting together the wrong things when writing compared to talking, where one slip of the tongue could ruin everything.
She stood up when she found most of the class had finished their quizzes, deciding she could read the letters later. She had some students to teach first.
"Has Gil been doing his work?" Wes asked after school, ruffling his son's hair while Maka waved goodbye at some other children.
"He's more on task nowadays," Maka told him, smiling down at Gil when he laughed and jumped up and down. "But he still likes to talk a little bit too much."
"He's always been a social butterfly," Wes chuckled. He looked up at her and his smile became a little slyer, if Maka were to describe. "How have you and Soul been getting along?"
"Good," Maka told him simply, clasping her arms behind her. "Really good, actually. We talked about a lot of things and closed a lot of things."
"Closed?"
"We weren't necessarily friendly to each other when we were younger," Maka admitted. Wes hummed, intrigued. "We solved some issues."
"So you two get along now, is it? Good, that sounds good. I haven't seen Soul around much, but the times I do he brings you up once or twice," he smiled at her.
Maka smiled back. "I hope they're not bad things."
"Trust me, they're not."
"Dad, dad! I wanna' go home, I wanna' finish my homework before mommy gets home so I can show her what I drew for her, please, let's go, daaaaad!" He whined, pulling on his sleeve impatiently.
"Alright, alright, we're going, let me just say goodbye to Miss Albarn!" Wes appeased, letting his boy run off while he bid goodbye to his teacher. "That must be some picture."
"We used glitter today. Gil put a lot of effort into that drawing," Maka told him with a beam. "I don't usually let the kids play with the glitter since it's a hassle to clean up. I always come home with glitter on me even days after the project," she laughed. "It gets all over the place."
"Hopefully Gil doesn't drop too much glitter in my car. I should've made Soul come," Wes laughed. "See how he handles having uncool glitter in his car!"
"With a lot of whining, probably," Maka giggled.
Wes grinned at her. "You know him so well already! Well, I should get going, before Gil comes over here to drag me away."
Maka smiled and bid him goodbye, going to usher the leftover children into the classroom until their parents arrived. She spared a glance at Wes' car and found Gil showing his father the picture he drew for his mother. Maka felt a pang in her heart at the sight and when she looked at the other children that waited for her by the front gate, that pang became a small ache. Her mother had become pregnant with her when she was eighteen, just out of high school, to Spirit, who was already two years into college at the time.
Her mother had always told her not to make such an error, warning her of the hardships that came with having children at such a young age. But Maka was twenty six, surely that was more than old enough to have at least one child? Maka shook her head and heralded her students into the classroom. She thought she got over her baby blues when she was twenty two, were they coming back now?
"I already have my hands full with these," Maka murmured to herself, smiling friendlily at one of her students who cocked their head upon hearing her. "No more kids," she told herself resolutely, marching over to her desk. She took out her laptop from the drawer she had safely locked it in and then her eyes strayed to her other drawer, the one she'd stuffed all of Soul's letters in.
She opened that one up and took them out, taking care to keep them in the order he'd given them to her. Once she had a neat stack – around six letters, she was surprised he had written her so many – she rubber banded them and stuffed them into her laptop bag before she could change her mind. Reading them in the classroom could be dangerous and the last thing she needed was to either rage or be touched by his letters. She expected to rage at first. Soul could be quite blunt with his words.
"Teacher! My mommy is here!"
"So is mine!"
Maka smiled and stood up to walk them out.
"Alright, alright. I'm going. Don't forget to do your homework and double-check it!"
"Yes, Miss Albarn!"
And so ended another day at Death City Elementary school.
"Wes, I seriously don't need to deal with this right now," Soul grumbled as he trudged up the staircase, holding two bags of Chinese takeout while his other held their drinks. His phone was cradled between his shoulder and cheek and he was sorely tempted to let his phone drop on the floor than to listen to his brother whine. "No, don't go my apartment—I'm not home, genius, so unless you want to just chill in there, you won't find me."
Soul stopped at the mouth of the staircase. "I already bought dinner, so I'm not gonna' go back to your place to eat. I won't finish it and then Blair'll think its gross or something and cuss me out."
The phone call ended sharply after that and Soul shoved his phone into his pocket with an irritated sigh. Wes was overreacting; did he truly think he would always eat at their place? He was a grown man; he was bound to get tied up with someone eventually. Wes had always pushed for him to date and when Soul finally did, he was pushing for him to come back and ignore Maka? It had nothing to do with her being his son's teacher, either. The issue ran deeper.
"Soul—oh, you bought dinner!" Maka cheerily said upon opening the door, successfully brightening up his sour mood. She helped carry the trays to the dining table while he placed their drinks right beside the trays. He watched her rummage through the bag for forks then she took out their trays of food.
"Did you get me dumplings this time?"
"Yeah, but no spicy chicken."
"That's fine. I was getting tired of it."
"I got spicy chicken, though," he grinned. "And fried shrimp!"
"That's possibly the only seafood I would eat, and that's only because it tastes like chicken."
"What? Fried shrimp does not taste like chicken!"
"Yes, it does," Maka sat down across from Soul. At his look of disbelief, she huffed: "It does to me!"
"You've got something seriously wrong with your pallet, its way off."
"Pallet?" Maka teased, laughing when he looked up from under his bangs. She could see the beginnings of a grin at the corner of his lips. "I didn't know you watched cooking shows, Soul!"
"What makes you think I watch cooking shows? Maybe I actually learned it from somewhere that's not the TV."
"Right, and I learned how to teach children from watching Sesame Street."
"Maybe you did! I don't know, I don't judge you either way!" He yelped when she threw a grain of rice at him.
"I actually went to school for this! Although, once...I did teach this kid how to multiply by six using the dracula voice."
"He learned! He was a big Sesame Street fan."
"Do it, do it right now."
Maka flushed and Soul swore if she had her hair up in pigtails, they'd fly right up with her embarrassment as well. "N-no! I only did that for him because he had such a hard time memorizing it!"
"C'mon, Maka, I promise not to laugh," Soul coaxed. "Do the voice!"
"No!"
"I swear I won't tell anyone, just do it..." He grinned at her when she stared at him, apprehensively. "I promise not to tell anyone," he repeated and grinned widely when she sighed in resignation, her cheeks still an endearing shade of pink.
"I swear, if you tell anyone, I will kick you out and you'll never visit me again," she told him, half-serious. Soul gave her a thumbs up and put his fork down, knowing this would probably make him piss himself laughing.
She took a breath. "It is I, de Count! They call me de count becau—shut up!" Maka groaned when Soul burst out laughing. "…because I like to count things! We shall—oh my god, Soul, if you don't shut up I'm going to stop!"
"Okay," he snickered, but bit his tongue when she did the most hilarious reenactment of the Count, complete with the laugh and hand movements. Soul swore he nearly fell off his chair in laughter because her voice wasn't even deep—it was just ridiculously adorable; he thought he was higher pitched than usual.
"Nailed it," he gasped, dodging a few packets of soy sauce in the process.
The evening winded down after that and Soul found himself back on her couch. Maka yawned into her hand and slumped against Soul, fitting under his arm comfortably. She spread her legs over the remaining length of the couch and Soul stroked his thumb over her shoulder, allowing his eyes to roam around her apartment idly as Maka indulged in her favorite television drama. He still had a problem to deal with and it began with Wes and ended with Blair.
He had been spending more time with Maka than Wes and his family and Blair was starting to grow agitated. She still set out an extra plate for him during dinner, which only upset Gil because he sometimes would not eat until Soul came. The times he never did, Wes had to convince him to eat. Blair also wanted some input on her new dishes and Soul had always had a good nose and taste for food. She trusted his opinion, which he could not give since he ate with Maka nowadays and when he did return in time for their dinner, he was not hungry anymore. The thought of causing so much chaos in his brothers household made Soul feel guilty; he didn't think his absence would affect them so much, especially not Gil.
He could ask Maka if she could spend some time over at his place but, if he were honest with himself, he did not think that his home would feel anymore homey even with Maka's presence. Blair had gone out to buy him more furniture not too long ago, but it still held a detached air. No matter what he did, he could not give it a homier feel. He supposed it felt like an oversized bedroom sometimes, when his negligence got the better of him and he made a mess.
Blair sometimes cleaned it up for him, although not without some hissing and whining involved, which never failed to make him help her clean up—usually ending with her filing her nails and firing off orders as he cleaned up his own mess and made his apartment presentable again.
"What're you thinking about so hard?" Maka sleepily asked.
Soul looked down to find drowsy green eyes looking back. He smirked and tugged on her hair gently, his arm tightening around her neck. She puffed her cheeks out, her eyes shut as her face screwed up. He grinned and leaned down to press his forehead against her temple, not letting her wiggle out of his hold. "You're tired today. What'd those brats do, make you chase them around the classroom?"
"I stayed up trying to get my printer to work so I could print out their class assignments," Maka yawned, pressing her nose against his cheek instead. She sank into his embrace, her fingers clutching his shirt loosely. "Since I couldn't do it at school because someone was starving," she sent him a pointed look.
"I'm not sorry, if that's what you mean."
"But what were you thinking about? You were staring at the wall pretty intensely," she asked curiously, wiggling so she could give him her attention more comfortably. "Soul?"
He hesitated before he said, slowly, "Wes and Blair have been bugging me a lot about having dinner with them."
"Oh. Well, take a day to have dinner with them then. I can eat by myself."
"I wish it were that simple," Soul grumbled. She cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. "Before I started to come over here, Blair would always invite me for dinner. It just became a habit to eat with them. Blair likes to cook something new every day and Wes pretty much eats anything, so she likes my opinion."
"You don't eat everything, too?"
Soul sent a mock-glare at a giggling Maka. "Surprisingly, Maka, I don't. So Blair likes to have me over to taste her food and give her feedback. But Wes told me that Gil waits for me to come to dinner. Wes has to convince the kid to eat or else he won't, and I know it's because he wants to eat with me like before," he sinks in his seat after the admission, looking down at the coffee table broodingly. "But I still wanna' come over here to eat with you."
Maka thought about it for a second and then brightened, sitting up so she could face him properly. "We can just go eat dinner with them every night!"
"What?"
"Well, since you want to eat with me, too, I can go with you. If that's okay," she added, hesitantly.
"No, that's fine, it's just do you really wanna' go eat with them every night?" He asked, brow arched. "Blair's gonna' want you to stay afterward. She's a pain like that. I usually stayed coz of Gil, at least until his bedtime."
"I don't mind staying for a bit," Maka told him honestly.
"That sounds great and all, but we also have another problem."
"What's that?"
"Gil. How's the kid gonna' take having his teacher over for dinner? And leaving with his uncle?" He hinted, which made Maka look down in conflict.
"I know!" She brightened. "We can tell him I'm teaching you how to multiply!"
"Fuck that, I don't need the kid to think I'm a moron!" he growled. Maka laughed. "I guess we can tell him that you live close by and you're good friends with us. Kid's smart, and he likes you so he'll probably be thrilled to have you there."
"But you have a point," Maka sat back, curling her legs under her. She wedged her palms between her thighs as she spoke, "I'm his teacher. I have to keep a certain sense of professionalism, and going to dinner with you at his home will breach that. I'd feel more comfortable once he moved onto the next grade level and I wasn't his teacher for a while. I don't need him to cause a ruckus in the classroom."
"This wouldn't be an issue if he didn't have a crush on you," Soul deadpanned.
"He doesn't have a crush on me!"
"He does, I would know," he sent her a knowing look she pinked at. "You're hard not to like," he added and smirked when he saw her face heat up even more. He reached over and pulled her towards him, muffling her squeak for him to stop, we're going to fall with his lips, pushing her over until she fell on her back on the couch. He moved over her, kissing her deeply, one hand tangling their fingers together while the other supported his weight.
They stayed like that for a while, their lips moving against each other's, heavy breathing accompanied by her girlish giggles and his chuckles. Whispers caressed each other's lips, and Soul liked to watch how her eyelashes brushed against her cheek with every blink. Maka liked to let her lips lightly graze his chin whenever he spoke, and drag her lips against his smooth cheek. She combed her fingers through his hair, bringing his head down so she could slide her mouth against his again, arms coming to lock around his neck, her leg wrapping around one of his so his body was completely pressed against her own.
They always tip-toed around the edge during nights like this, always got a little too close. Tonight, Soul let his hands grope down her sides, let one of his hands reach up to tease the swell of her breast. Tonight, she arched a little more against him and moaned softly in his mouth when his fingers danced too close to her to breast. She locked their hips together, undulated her body in a way that made him groan and push back, a shiver of pleasure that made both groan into each other's mouths.
They danced around the edge but never passed it, not yet, so it was not long before they pulled away and Maka loosened her hold on him. She closed her eyes as he buried his face in her neck and whispered things that made her face feel like it would remain red for lifetimes to come. She could feel his affection as if it were a tangible thing, and she found herself yearning for more as she kissed his cheek noisily and earned a humored hum.
"Go eat with them this week until we work something out," Maka said, shifting on her side so she could cuddle against his chest.
"Start next week," Soul yawned.
"Tomorrow."
"I can't keep track like that."
"Don't worry, I'll keep track for you," Maka gave him a stern look he groaned at. "You're going tomorrow. I'm locking the door, so don't even bother coming over here."
"That's just mean."
"I'll open it after a week," she told him cheekily, squealing when he squeezed her to his chest and planted a kiss on her neck, her delighted peals of laughter warming his heart with every second as he convinced her to let him eat at her place one more night.
"Uncle, look! Look what I made in Miss Maka's class, she let me use the glitter! Unc—LOOOKKKKK!"
Wes fumbled with something in the bedroom. "Soul, have you seen the newspaper? I can't find it...is it by the coffee table?"
"Nyaaa~! You'll love what I made tonight, Soul-y! It's one of your favorites!" Blair sang excitedly.
"Uncle, are you loookingggg?"
"Newspaper, Soul, have you seen it?"
"NYAA! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT WITH A DARK SEAR, SOULY~!
Soul was sitting on the couch with Gil, face blank. He heard Blair as if she were shouting in his ear. Blair had a loud voice; Soul never quite understood how Wes could deal with it. Maka had a mean yell, sure, but she was soft-spoken most of the time. It was when her voice attained a steely quality that Soul needed to take cover. When her voice was pitched, cheery, that was the best time to approach her with whatever he had in mind. But Blair was always loud: he had no idea how his brother differentiated her pitches.
"S'here, Wes! Wes!" Soul shouted, raising the rolled-up newspaper for his brother. Wes plucked his from his hand and rounded the couch to sit across from his brother, his child sitting between them and doodling something in his sketchbook.
"Uncleeee!"
"I'm looking, it looks great. You should color it more," he said absently but Gil bought it, going for his crayons. "What's Blair cooking tonight?" Soul asked his brother, arms crossed behind his neck. He usually had free-reign of the TV when he came over and tonight he was watching a basketball game.
"I'm not sure. But she's been quite fixated with steaks, so I have high hopes it's a New York style steak," Wes answered, flipping the page in his newspaper. "That's one of your favorites, isn't it?"
"Steak's always good. But that sounds too basic for all the racket she's making in there," Soul thumbed behind him.
Wes winced when he heard pots clatter and Blair hiss. "Yeah, I know. I'm hoping she won't break another plate tonight. I think I've wasted over fifty dollars in plates in the last three months. That's more than anyone should waste on plates."
Soul snorted. "Just wait until she decides her sole purpose in life is cooking. You'll be blowing off cash on the best cooking ware every week."
"Don't say that."
"Just being honest."
Wes mouthed a swear—he was pretty sure it was fuck—and Soul smirked. Wes would never swear out loud in front of his child, although Soul personally knew that Wes had a filthier mouth than him. It was surprising because out of the both of them, Soul was usually seen as the most vulgar brother. People were often shocked when they realized he was tame compared to his brother. It was always the nauseatingly polite ones, but no one would know that until they ticked Wes off.
Soul glanced at the clock and resisted a sigh. He would already be eating with Maka at this time. In fact, they'd probably be prodding each other about something, and he'd probably be making her flush that pretty pink—and she'd kick him under the table, and he'd grab her hand and tangle their fingers, and it'd just end as another calm night with Maka on his chest and his arm around her, or maybe even his hand under her shirt or, better yet, down those silk panties she liked to wear—
"DINNER'S READY! Soul, I gave you an extra, okay, baby? I hope you like it! I put a twist on my usual style and used a different seasoning! It's a lot spicier, too..."
"Not steak," Wes announced when he walked into the dining room.
"Fish," his brother grinned, and sat down with a fork already in his hand. "That beats a steak any day."
Wes only smiled.
Dinner went as it usually went when he ate: Blair molested both him and Wes, although Wes leaned into her touch and made him want to gag with their touchy-touchy, lovey-lovey displays of affection. It made him think back to Maka and him: when they went on dates, they were never so openly affectionate. They would hold hands, but nothing more. He was never one for open displays of affection, and although Maka did not seem against it, she never tried to, either. He was suddenly very relieved that Maka respected his space. Blair seemed to have no boundaries.
Soul ate slowly. In the time it took him to devour two miso-glazed black cods accompanied with white rice and vegetables, Gil talked to him rapidly about his cartoons, Wes asked for thirds, and Blair nearly bored him to tears with her chatter on the latest fashion trends. Soul gave his critique after he finished and got into another argument with Blair about the sear on the cod, and then he went to go tuck Gil into bed.
It was another usual dinner for him.
He was glad that their level of comfort with him had not changed despite his long absence.
"Are you going to eat with us tomorrow, too, uncle?"
Soul smiled, ruffling his nephew's hair. "Definitely. So go to bed, Gil, you have school tomorrow."
Gil beamed and snuggled into his blankets. Soul left when he saw Gil's breathing even out, heading back to the living room. Blair was in the kitchen, singing along to a pop song while she washed the dishes.
"Is Gil asleep?" Wes asked when Soul sank back in the couch, a yawn stifled behind his hand.
"Yep. Knocked right out," he told him sleepily.
"You look ready to knock out yourself."
"Long day," he said, not elaborating.
"...So, how have you and Maka been?"
"Great."
"Great?"
"Yeah," Soul raised a brow when Wes eyed him. "What?"
"Just great?"
"Would 'fantastic' be a better word?"
Wes rolled his eyes. "I'm just worried about you two. You didn't do too well in your last relationship."
"That was my last relationship. This is now," he replied, sharply.
Wes eased off a little. "I personally like Maka better. I didn't know your ex very well, but from what you've described, Maka is a lot more comforting and—!"
"Sweet! She's a sweetie! I knew since I saw her in high school that she was a cutie patootie!" Blair squealed, pouncing on Wes from behind. She nuzzled his cheek with her arms wrapped around his neck, her rear swaying like a cat's. "And Soul-y liked her sooo much, Wes. It was so cute, he would always be looking at her and talking about her to me when I went to go see him! Nyaaa~!" she giggled when Soul growled at her, face starting to warm. "Soul really, really liked her," Blair's laughter softened and her eyes lit proudly. "And now he's with her! Blair never thought that would happen! You're so lucky, Soul-y, I thought you'd never see her again after high school!"
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, looking sidelong when Blair sent him a beaming smile.
"When are you going to invite her over to dinner?"
"Eh?"
Wes grinned. "Don't give me that look. You can bring her over, if you want. You'd probably be less bored with her here and Blair's wanted to meet her since she discovered you two were dating. Invite her over one of these days."
"Yesss! Oh, do it next Saturday! Saturday! Blair is making salmon on Saturday!"
Soul snorted, which made Blair cock her head. "Maka hates fish, maybe another day."
Blair gasped in absolutely shock, mouth pinched and her eyes ablaze. Wes took over before Blair could off on a rampage. "Well, then, what about Sunday?"
Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "See, we did talk about her coming over here, but...the problem is Gil. Maka is his teacher, and she told me that she wants to maintain professionalism or something. She doesn't want to get mixed up in his life until he's out of the second grade, at least," he told Wes, who considered this seriously and nodded in agreement.
"She's a lot more conscientious than I thought she would be."
Soul quirked a grin, something that did not go unnoticed by Blair.
"She just thinks too much," he said instead, a yawn forcing itself out of his mouth. "Man, I'm stuffed. I'm gonna' go sleep this off. Thanks for dinner, Blair. Later, Wes," he waved at the pair, Blair beaming up at him and bidding him a cheery goodnight. Wes only waved, his smile telling him all he needed. Wes expressed more in his smiles or frowns than words while Soul was the opposite: although not the best with words, he could explain himself well if he tried, but his expression would often remain blank. It was a trait that always made their mother bristle, only because it seemed like her scolds would go right through Soul.
"I still want to meet your sweetie, Soul!" Blair shouted before he left. "We can go out for dinner when my widdle kitten has a sleepover! It'll be fun! I'll tell you the time and day, okay?"
"Alright, sounds good. I'll give her the heads up when I see her," Soul replied, closing the door behind him. He walked to the staircase and went down to the lower floor, heading down the hall to where his apartment was. The one thing he did like about his apartment was the floor separation. He did not think he could take Wes or Blair walking in on him if they lived next door to each other. It was bad enough that he had to change in the bathroom all the time, in fear of walking out and finding Blair in the hall, screeching about something or the other. The last time it had happened, she had laughed and told him that his brother never told her that he had the cutest birthmark near his right nipple.
Needless to say, Soul had changed the locks on his door to keep her out. It lasted a good two months before she acquired the key again.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and, when he took it out, a smile lifted the corner of his lips at Maka's sassy message: goodnight! Only 6 more days until you get to sleep on my couch again!
It was strange, but her couch was much more comfortable than his bed had ever been.
It was rather quiet in the house now that Soul was not around. But it also offered Maka a chance to be alone with her thoughts, particularly about her relationship with Soul. It was much more fulfilling and satisfying than any of her past relationships had been by a long-shot and, although they had their spats, Maka felt completely able to talk to him about it in order to right things between them. She was also rather surprised that it was Soul who usually came up to her to apologize, as she was usually the one who apologized when she had spats with her past boyfriends.
Soul was strange with his stark white hair and deep red eyes, but he was handsome. He had always been handsome. She just refused to acknowledge it because she had been under the impression that he disliked her in high school. It was quite the opposite, and it still mystified her that he liked her for such a long, long time.
She also felt like she could trust Soul, something that was so inherently important that Maka had promised herself to never stay with a person she could not trust ever again. Ever since Clay had proven to her that not all bad intentions could be seen by the naked eye, she had taken more care in watching for them. Since she was little, she had promised to never fall for a cheater. But it had happened, although she could firmly say she hadn't so wholly 'fallen' like her ten year old self believed she would. Falling in love like that was harder than it looked, but Soul was starting to make her believe that love was not as far away as she thought it to be.
"But he's a BOY!"
"Papa," Maka sighed in irritation. It wouldn't be the first time he had interrupted her story. "I know that not everything is what it seems! But I do feel like I can trust him, and he has given me reasons to believe I can."
Spirit Albarn frowned heavily, his fruity banana sundae melting already. He was in his suit, as usual, his tie straight down the middle and his blazer custom tailored. He was a sturdy man, had always been, and appeared younger than his actual age. His rogue hair was a cool mess, currently pushed back so they didn't fall into his sundae. She had called them to keep her company for dinner, and because she'd tormented Spirit enough by not eating with him for weeks.
Maka had also thought that it was about time her father knew about her new boyfriend.
"I don't like it. I don't like it at all! It's bad enough that son of a bitch Clay played around with MY baby girl like that for so long! I'm not going to give this bastard my blessing until I meet him!" Spirit decided moodily, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth before he could say anything else. It never ended well when he did.
Maka sighed. Her papa had handled the news better than she thought he would. She thought he would tear out of his seat and search for Soul to give him a taste of his mind the instant she told him. But he hadn't: he had just gawked at her, and then exploded with why and how and most importantly WHEN and she had answered all the questions simply. And sharply, when it looked like he wanted to tear out of the restaurant after all.
"You can meet him for dinner!"
"TOMORROW! EIGHT PM, IN THE ALLEY—!"
"PAPA!" Maka slit her eyes. "If you lay one hand on Soul, you'll be going home with a broken nose, you hear me? No fighting! You're going to hear him out, get to know him, and tell me what you think of him. Nothing else, okay?"
Spirit struggled for a second before sighing, sinking in his seat petulantly. "Yes, angel."
"Good," Maka smiled in satisfaction, and his heart went out for his little girl. Honestly, Spirit's greatest fear had been that Clay had hurt her enough that she did not want to date anymore. He was happy that his baby girl found someone she could relate to, but he was also doubly protective of her—for obvious reasons. But he would get to know this new boy of hers and if he seemed like a jerk, he would definitely not delay in getting his little girl away from him before she really got hurt. It was surprising that Maka felt so strongly for him already—he would need to evaluate Soul critically in order to ensure he would never hurt his angel.
"Neh, papa, how have you been? It's been a while since I last saw you."
"Good! Works been taking a toll on my recently, but it's nothing your old pops can't handle~!" He beamed. "I even got a day off next week! I was thinking that we could go out to eat that day, too? Pleaseee?" he whined. "Papa misses Maka!"
"Hmm...oh! I know! I can bring Soul that day for dinner!" Maka exclaimed. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind having dinner with you and it's a good chance for you to meet him!"
"He better not mind, or else he's outta here!" Spirit grumbled. "If I don't like the kid, you dump him, okay, Maka?"
"Papa, you hate every boy who takes an interest in me."
"With good reason! They're all bastards who want to use you, baby, they're evil!"
"Papa, you're a boy, too, y'know, and you weren't so great with mama yourself..."
Spirit sputtered, wide-eyed and gaping like a fish, and Maka wisely changed the subject before they got into an argument again. It was the one subject they would never agree on: her mother. Spirit had cheated on her a lot, albeit he loved her as well, but just not enough to stay faithful to her. Maka had eventually come to accept that her mama had made the right choice in divorcing him and moving along with her life, as well as her father's womanizing habits. Her papa had always been this way and although it was not a healthy thing, he was happy with his life, and Maka was too old for teenage grudges and late-night crying. Her papa loved her, and he was her father first and foremost.
"The week will be up by then, too, so he can't whine his way out of it!" Maka smirked.
"Week? Did you kick him out, Maka? Good! That should put him in his place! Kick him out more often! In fact, just leave him."
Maka snorted her father's attempts. "His brother and his wife wanted him over for dinner because they missed him. He's been eating dinner with me for the past few weeks, and they just wanted to spend some time with him. Their son also adores him, so Soul decided he'd spend a week eating dinner with them before coming back."
"Hmm..wait, coming back? Don't tell me that BASTARD LIVES WITH YOU—URGH!"
"Not so loud! We're in public!" Maka hissed, whacking him on the head one more time. "And for your information, no, he does not live with me. He just keeps me company for dinner!" She thought telling him that he slept on her couch sometimes was not wise—and it was not him living with her so much as it was an extended sleepover?
"Just as long as he keeps his hands to himself…"
Maka rolled her eyes but smiled at her father. "So what day do you have off?"
"Wednesday."
"Wednesday night at six?" Maka offered. "We can go to the streak house that just opened down by Gallows street!"
"Sounds good to me, angel!" Spirit beamed up at his precious daughter. She was adorable, possibly more adorable than her mother had been, and it always made him feel like he was doing his job right when she was happy.
"I can't wait to meet this kid...and teach him a thing or two about what'll happen if he hurts you," he promised ardently.
"Papa..."
"And then we'll go fishing!" Spirit beamed falsely.
Maka smiled.
"...and he can go swim with the fishes..."
"PAPA!"
"You would pick the day I'm coming back to do this," Soul said bitterly, yanking on his tie. "So uncool..." He opted for not wearing it after his tenth yank, deciding his dress shirt would suffice. Maka was still in her bedroom, dolling herself up. The last time he had peeked inside, she had been smoothing her hands down her skirt, this one longer than the others. But it was loose on her, the skirt flaring out past her knees. He was tempted to ask her to wear heels with the skirt, if only because he had a hard time keeping his eyes above her waist and the heels would only add to his sweet torture. But she kept her black flats and he kept his mouth shut.
"Papa wants to meet you," Maka told him, pinning her hair up in a bun. She kept her make-up simple, and her clothes were nothing extravagant. But Soul had given her an appreciative look when she showed him, so she was happy with her choice. "He doesn't like that we're dating, so don't say anything that might set him off. In fact, don't even mention we're dating. Just introduce yourself. He doesn't mind flipping the table to get to you," she smiled wearily when she saw Soul's risen brow in the reflection of her mirror. "My papa's an idiot."
"Noted," he deadpanned. "This is pretty sudden, though. He couldn't wait another week to meet me?"
"He had a day off today, so I told him I'd bring you," Maka shrugged. "I thought we might as well get this over with or else he'd never stop complaining about it."
Soul only sighed, watching her get ready idly. He hadn't expected to be pushed right out of her apartment then instant he walked in, after a week of being apart from her aside from phone calls and text messages.
He had fully expected to tip her over on her couch and show her just how much he missed her, but instead was told that he was to meet her father and he had to look decent. Needless to say, he was not a happy man, but it was better to get everything over with now than later. Maka would need to meet Blair and Wes (more Blair, since Wes already knew her from school), which was his equivalence to meeting his 'parents' since his real parents were half-way across the U.S. and did not even know he was on this side of the planet.
"Okay! I'm done!"
"Cool. We still have enough time to get there," Soul said, holding his hand out to her. Maka took it with a smile and snatched her keys off the coffee table as Soul led her to the door. "Man, if he's half as protective as I think he will be, this is gonna' blow so hard..."
"If you're on your best behavior," Maka smiled craftily, squeezing his arm, "Something else is going to be blown hard tonight," she led the way when he suddenly stopped and gawked at her, his cheeks reddening at the thought and his pants growing subtly tighter in a heartbeat. "Come on, Soul, or else we'll be late!"
"...Right," he swallowed and told himself to ease off the attitude because the reward would surely be worth it.
The reward was starting to not seem worth it.
"Why is your hair white? Maka, why is his hair white? You told me you were dating a grown man, not a goddamn punk!"
"It's natural," Soul hissed through his teeth. It had only been twenty minutes and already he wanted to tear Spirit's spine out through his mouth. Spirit Albarn had been surprisingly younger than he expected, and he could see similarities between he and Maka in the cheeks and nose. He seemed decent, cool and level-headed, even, until he caught sight of Maka and became a puddle of daddy mush. Even Wes wasn't that in love with his kid and Wes coddled his kid rotten.
Spirit Albarn absolutely adored his daughter and Soul had become public enemy number one the instant he laid eyes on him. He had literally squeezed Maka to his chest when he approached, blue eyes squinty and nose wrinkled in a sneer. He had sized him up, introduced himself, and stiffly shook his hand when he offered it. Soul was sure if Maka hadn't told them she was hungry, Spirit would have tried to crush his hand.
Spirit was also a total dick.
But not to Maka—oh, no, he was nauseatingly loving to his daughter, spoiling her with everything and not sparing a glance at him.
He was lucky Maka kept her dad in check because he was sure Spirit had a lot more interesting comments to throw at him than just picking at his physical attributes.
"What type of person has natural white hair?"
"I'm English, you—!" He bit back his scathing remark when Maka kicked him, her eyes warning. "My dad has white hair. It's hereditary."
"Your father would have white hair since he's older," Spirit huffed, eying him with distrust. Soul wanted to rub his eyes out—now he thought he was too old?
"You're old, too, but your hair seems just fine. Unless it's a wig," Soul jabbed and grinned when Spirit sputtered and nearly dropped his glass of wine. "Did I hit the nail on the head?" Maka stomped on his toes and he had to bite down a cry of despair.
"You say that again, you—!"
"WAITER!" Maka said loudly, glaring her papa down. "We're ready to take our orders now," she smiled and tried to ignore the way her boyfriend and her father were glaring daggers at one another.
"It's natural," Spirit mumbled.
"Go figure," Soul sneered and ignored his dark look.
They managed to get through half of their dinner without either going for the jugular, which was a lot more than Maka had expected. She was impressed that her papa managed to reign in his hostility toward Soul for so long, but it had to eventually come out when Soul mentioned that he worked long hours sometimes.
"I just don't think you'd be able to give Maka the attention she deserves," Spirit flatly told him.
"Maka doesn't need to be babied twenty four hours a day, sorry to disappoint you," Soul bit right back. "I think she can go a few hours without someone holding her hand!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it's supposed to mean!"
"You're implying that I baby her!"
"You do!" Soul argued. "You completely smother her!"
"She is my daughter and there's nothing wrong with giving her some attention every now and then!"
"And she's twenty six and doesn't need to be smothered like she's two!"
"Assuming I smother her!"
"You admitted to it like a second ago!"
"I MAY SMOTHER HER BUT SHE LIKES IT!"
"I'm pretty sure she doesn't," Soul deadpanned. Maka groaned into her palm as they became engrossed in who was smothering who the most. Spirit might smother her sometimes, and sure she might not like it all the time, but why was that such an issue? She was well aware that Soul worked long hours on some days, but had other days off, so she was not too concerned about it. She worked long hours, too, being a teacher and all, and often took her work home to finish, so what difference did it make?
Her papa couldn't talk, anyway, he was hardly there for her when she was younger. Although she did admit he was present more than her mother had been.
When their argument became more ridiculous—with Spirit claiming that Soul wouldn't know anything about how to smother someone the right way—she decided enough was enough.
"Both of you..." Maka rumbled, twitching when neither heard her. "SHUT UP!" She snarled, slapping a hand over Soul's mouth and glaring daggers at her father. Both immediately swallowed their next words and Maka kept her eyes steady on her papa's. "I came here to have a nice dinner with my father and my boyfriend. Not to be arguing about who is smothering who because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. Soul works long hours, I do, too, and so do you, papa, so don't go pretending you have all the time in the world for me," she slit her eyes when her father opened his mouth. He closed it immediately. "Now, can we have a nice dinner and end the night on a good note? Or do I have to take drastic measures?"
Their waiter came with their desserts at that time and Spirit smiled shakily down at his chocolate soufflé. "I-I-I love chocolate, angel."
Soul squinted at him and muffled out, "Liar," only to have his toes stomped on again. "...M-me, too," he croaked, sweating bullets at Maka's menacing stare. "Chocolate, yeah, cool."
Maka smiled and dropped her hand, digging into her dessert as both men breathed sighs of relief. But they immediately scowled at each other when they realized they were smiling at one another. No way would either admit defeat so early on, so the rest of their dinner was spent giving each other looks as they ate their dessert and Maka talked about some of her students.
"I'm going to the restroom," Maka announced, standing up. "I'll be back soon. No fighting, okay? If I come back and see that you're arguing, I'm going to hit you both with my book regardless of who started it." Maka eyed them both. She was doing this on purpose, so they had time to sort things out, because she was seriously getting sick of her papa making faces at Soul every ten seconds.
The instant she was out of earshot, Spirit hissed: "Alright, you shithead, I don't know what you want with my daughter, but just be warned that if she comes out hurt, I'm sticking your head in my grill and roasting that hair of yours to a normal color!"
"I'm dating her because I like her, genius," he sneered right back. "Look, I know Maka's had some rough times in the past, but I'm not gonna' go messing this up. I waited too long for this."
Spirit squinted at him. "Waited?"
Soul instantly blanked his expression. Spirit could respect his poker face. "Yeah. Waited. For a long time."
"How long?" Spirit leaned in, curious despite himself. "Did you two know each other before?"
"Yeah...in high school."
"High school?" He prompted. "She never spoke about any Soul when she was in high school."
Soul awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh, we weren't on very good terms with each other back then."
"If you bullied her in high school, I'm going to rip your throat out—!"
"I DIDN'T!" Soul snapped. At Spirits stony look, he sighed. "I mean, I just...couldn't talk to her, so she thought I was being a jerk."
"All you have to do is open your mouth and talk. It's not very difficult. You're doing it right now."
"I know, smart ass," Soul scathed. Spirit ignored the jab. "But I really liked her, alright? I was also flunking half my classes and she was fucking valedictorian, can you see my problem?"
Spirit hummed, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Her mom was valedictorian, too. And filthy rich," he said, catching his attention. He sank back in his seat, crossing his ankles. "I was broke, I barely had enough money to support myself. I understand."
"Social classes aside," Soul continued, "My best friend was pretty mean to her at the time. I was always there, so, it just kinda' fell on me, too. I didn't say anything, so she thought I hated her as well, when in reality I didn't but I didn't wanna' lose my best friend so...I screwed up, you don't have'ta tell me," he said before Spirit could talk. "I know that now. I told her everything, and we settled it. We're good. She forgives me."
"For being a total moron?"
Soul glared. "Yeah."
"I don't," he huffed.
"Yeah, I can see that."
"But that's a long time," Spirit added, scratching his cheek broodingly. "Unless you're lying to me."
"You can ask your precious angel if you think so."
"Hey!" Spirit warned. "Word of advice: Maka likes being called angel. I'd get on it, if I were you."
"Angel's so cliché, though."
"You gotta' do what you gotta' do to keep her happy, you hear me, punk?"
"Yeah… but I won't call her that, that's just...weird, since you call her that," Soul blanched at the thought. It was just plain weird. If he had a pet name for Maka, it'd probably be something not-so-cute like Ma'am. Or Mistress.
Or Master.
Soul quickly shook those naughty thoughts off lest Spirit caught sight of his flush and sunk in his seat. He had some strange kinks he was still reluctant to embrace. "We might not like each other," he began, while Maka was still away. He wanted to be on decent terms with the guy; the last thing he needed was to have him on his ass for every little thing. "But we both care for Maka, so I think we should just try to get along for her sake...and ours, since she'll kick our asses every time we argue. She's got a book on her, now I know why she brought it."
Spirit grunted, not looking at all happy with the thought, and mumbled out of the corner of his lip, "...love her more than you..."
"What?"
"I said, I love her more than you, because she is my angel and you can't even call her that!"
Soul narrowed her eyes. "You're her dad, but that doesn't mean I can't love her as much as you do."
"When you can call her angel, then we'll talk!"
"Dude, think about it, it's weird! Her dad calls her angel, why would I call her that, too, that's just too weird!"
"Then what would you call her?" Spirit challenged, slamming a fist on the table. Soul wanted to melt into his seat—were they really having this argument? Were they really arguing about what to call Maka on their off-time? "Huh?"
"I-I dunno'! Honey?"
Spirit scoffed mockingly. "You're not even trying! See, you don't love her half as much as you say you do!"
Soul scowled, taking actual offense to that. "I don't have to call her anything to prove that I love her. That's stupid."
"But it shows you do!"
"My actions show what she means to me," Soul stated. "Not some stupid pet name that a thousand other people use, too!"
Spirit studied him for a second. "But if you had to?"
Soul pressed his lips together and said nothing. He caught sight of Maka coming down the aisle and before she was too close, he muttered:
"...Sweetheart."
Spirit gave him a strange look. "Sweetheart?"
"Papa, if you're flirting with the waitress again, I'm going to dump my tea on you," Maka warned when she approached them, sitting down and eying both of them. Spirit looked thoughtful and Soul was brooding in his seat. She had no idea what happened, but it wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. Or maybe it was. "Papa?"
"I'm not, angel, I was just...discussing a couple of things with him," Spirit looked at Soul to find him looking back, guarded.
"What kinds of things?"
"Nothing you should concern yourself over!" Spirit beamed.
"Then what was the 'sweetheart' all about?"
"Because you are my sweet—!"
"Nevermind," Maka immediately shot down, causing Soul to snigger at Spirit's absolutely heartbroken expression. "Considering the table is still intact, I take it you two talked everything out?"
"Mostly," Soul answered, shortly.
Maka looked expectantly at her father.
Spirit wanted to damn the kid and just make him look bad but he couldn't, because the punk had actually passed his test. He had not expected him to, but he had, and he'd take his word for it about being in love with her for the past few years. He knew all about being at odds with a girl you liked, as his ex-wife had been his dream woman until he messed everything up. But Soul wouldn't: he did not have that type of self-destructiveness that he had. He was better than him. He would be good to her; for all his attitude, he knew a good man when he saw one, and Soul was a good man. He expected big things from him, which was why he said, "He's not as bad as I thought he'd be," and refused to give him any more than that.
Although that was that was needed because his daughter's face lit up with delight and Soul cast him a wide-eyed look, certainly not expecting that from him.
The night went smoothly thereafter.
Spirit Albarn went home at peace, knowing his daughter was in safe hands.
Soul went home with Maka's lips at his neck and her hand sliding up his thigh, the thought that they had waited long enough for this making their words racy and his voice husky, and the extra thought that he would certainly do all in his power to keep her as happy as she possibly could firmly imbedded in his mind.
All without calling her a silly pet name.
