They lay together in Maka's bed back at the mansion. "I can't believe you moved in here," he said with a snort. She moved to shove his shoulder with her palm, but he only caught her wrist and kissed her fingertips. "I thought you were dead you asshat," she grumbled. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go."
"I still don't know how the fuck that happened," he said, twirling a strand of her ash blonde hair between his fingers. "There was some miscommunication somewhere along the line there. Going dark on op does not mean tell my girl I'm dead."
"So when the scout found you?" Maka questioned, sitting up on her elbows to meet his gaze. This time she was the one memorizing his features again. "We clued him in. Op went dark, undercover stuff on site, but Kid and relatives could be in the know. That fuckwit decided that meant tell everyone we were dead."
Maka pressed a kiss to Soul's chest and laid her head down over his scar, listening to the steady thrum of his heart beat. She'd missed that sound with every fiber of her being. "I thought about you every day. I'm so sorry, Maka," he whispered, his throat catching with the words. She pressed another kiss to his chest, then pushed up so their lips could meet. Before they did, she whispered her undying love to her Weapon and they went in for round two. They had another six months and a mistaken death to make up for.
