Day 4: shifting gears

The texture of the mottled blues of her scarf presses against her face as Maka sits on the step just outside the front of their motel room. Mira's blanket is wrapped around her shoulder and her knees are brought up into the warm cocoon. The fading night still shows a scattering of stars on the dark canvas and several bright lights she recognizes as the planets they are. The sun is coming, or they're moving towards it, and the growing wakefulness manifests deep in her bones.

It does nothing to ease the itchy feeling that has seeped into her every vein. Proximity to the man still sleeping behind the door and passed out in the second bed is the root of her latest ailment. A symptom of being away from him for the three months of her internship- everything was knocked out of alignment. The distance was too far- she meant it when she said in person was better than skype or over the phone- but now she was too close.

She's unsettled in a way she's never been around him. Maka can't shake the feeling and the discomfort isn't actually uncomfortable at all until she starts to think about it. She wants this, to be this close to Blake.

While away in Vegas, her work was interesting and fulfilling. She never had a dull day at the architecture firm, always learning and building on what she'd done the day before. This built her confidence in her own work and in herself as a person, but she had missed home horribly. However, she wasn't technically home now. She was on the road in places she hadn't been before or been in years. Yet her heart was full. That void Maka felt as homesickness was easily and totally filled, just by being near her best friend.

Despite that, she thinks, snuggling further into the blanket, she wants more. She needs to be closer, but she's so terrified that this is as close as she can ever get. The smell of Sid's preferred detergent and Blake's body spray seep into her nose, dulled by time in the car and the outdoors. Maka hooks a finger into her scarf and pulls down to press her face into the woven blanket.

The floorboards creak and the thin door opens behind her. Barefeet pad out, attached to a body of stretching limbs and a head of disheveled blue hair. There are lines on Blake's face from sleeping so hard and his voice is low and scratchier when he says, "Got up to piss and you were gone..." He slumps down next to her, elbows on propped knees. She watches his gaze trace aimlessly over the lightening sky. His face is completely relaxed until a chill goes up his spine, shaking him in his athletic shorts and tank. She presses her lips together to smother her amusement.

She barely contemplates whether to tease him or admonish him about his lack of appropriate attire when she's throwing half the blanket around his shoulder. Without missing a beat, Blake's arms slip around her, hands ducking under the hem of her tee.

"Eeek!" She shivers and sucks in a deep breath as his icy fingers dig into her side. Amusement rumbles through his chest and he tucks her closer. The face pressed into her hair tells her to quiet down, normal people are still sleeping right now.

The itch returns full force for a moment as her face heats. She is still and silent, barely breathing until he grips the corners of the blanket and pulls, tucking them closer together. His hands return, warmer than before and whatever makes up that cavity in her chest and fuels the discomfort in her head is settled. Bit by bit, she relaxes into his hold, head sinking into the crook of his neck.

Blake's sigh sounds happy, satisfied, at her compliance and his head shifts to lay on hers. The sun rises in peace.


Blake pouts as Maka cranks the wheel around to put them on the highway. The car seat swap drill did not go well for him. As they waited for the drive-thru line, Maka's hand had cranked the volume up and her door had flown open at the opening chords of the next song. The result was him slamming into the open driver's side door while Maka grinned evilly from the seat, already buckled in and fingers gripping the wheel. She had pulled the car forward as the line moved and he nearly missed getting back in.

So yes, he is a little bitter. His breakfast sandwich is already gone as is the chocolate milk, so he grabs Maka's coffee from the cupholder before she can stop him. He feels better taking a long drag to the sound of her complaining.

His tunes blend into the road noise and he hums as the highway stretches before them. Tonight, they were going out on the strip in Vegas. Blake feels a little weird about delivering Maka right back to where she was all summer, doing who knows what outside of her job. He really shouldn't feel so protective; Maka was her own person and knew how to stand up for herself and get help when needed. Yet the thought of people he didn't know monopolizing her time still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that is totally ruining the victory of stealing her coffee.

"How did you like living here? Get you ready for life in a bigger city?" He almost doesn't want her to say she's ready.

"I don't know. I liked the work, but didn't really like Vegas as a place to live. If anything, it made me..." she trails off, merging in front of the semi they just passed. The silence doesn't indicate she'll continue her thought, so he prods.

"Made you what?"

"...anxious?"

"You, anxious? Why?"

Maka knew this would be asked. She'd always been so self-assured and level-headed to the outside observer, but she knew that under the veneer she puts on display is a core of brash decisions and stubbornness that put her in situations she can't always handle. Out of habit, she rattles off generic responses of fear of moving and change that she had heard from others during the last semester of college. Honestly, Blake shouldn't buy it; she knows her voice is all tight like any other time she's lied, but he stays silent.

When her fake excuses run out, he speaks, but the words of encouragement feel canned.

"You can do it, Mak. If anyone can make that jump alone and succeed, it's you." The skin on the back of her neck crawls a little with the tang of dishonesty. It sends her into another spiral of self-doubt and she really wants to just turn to the side and check his face for any sign that her ears are deceiving her.

But with the traffic picking up as they near the metropolitan area, she doesn't have the luxury to turn. Their conversation dies off and Blake dials the music up to fill the void. The acoustic guitar fills the air whipping around him, murmuring about a girl thousands of miles away, shining bright. Maka's voice joins in part way and it wafts through his ears and into his heart.

"A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars. I'd walk to you if I had no other way."

He would. Blake would have walked to Vegas this summer if Maka had needed him to. He bites his lip and joins in.

"The world will never ever be the same and you're to blaaaame! Hey there, Maka, you be good and don't you miss me; two more years and you'll be done with school and I'll be making history like I do," he sings, Maka smiling over at him before returning her gaze to the road. "You'll know it's all because of you."

Oh what did she do to him.


They're in Vegas city limits now, but Blake has passed out in the passenger's seat, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging wide open. Maka just shakes her head as she pulls into a gas station. They weren't in dire need of fuel, but it would be easier to fuel up now than tomorrow morning when she was positive they'd be groggy from a night of bright lights and loud music.

She pulls out her phone to text her dad (and Sid) confirmation that they weren't dead yet. Lips twitching into a smirk, she snaps a photo of Blake's terrible sleeping position and sends it with the text. The tank doesn't take long to fill and she parks in front of the convenience store after. Maka locks the doors and rolls all the windows up before dashing through the store. She exits with a bag of doritos, a pack of spearmint gum, two jugs of water, and some Hostess cupcakes that she will not be sharing.

Blake is still passed out, but he's shifted, back arched somewhat unnaturally as he tries to rest his head on the center console. There are a couple of teenagers hanging out by the ice chest outside that are taking his photo. They aren't even discrete about it so Maka stuffs the food into the backseat and starts stalking towards them with her best bitch face on.

She's somewhat disappointed that it only takes one yell of 'Hey punks!' for them to run panicked.

No one takes photos of Blake sleeping in stupid positions except her.

This hotel they had to book in advance, simply because of the cost of spending a night in Vegas and to still be able to spend some on the strip. Unfortunately, this means it is both sketchy and not of good quality. Maka checks her phone again for the address, wishing it was in the opposite direction. It was closer to the strip than any of the other options and half the price. She thought she could see why.

Beside her, Blake stirs. He wakes with a groan.

"I have to pee so bad right now..."

"Go out the window, Starshine."

"...ugh. Do you really want me to give these people a show? Without charging?"

"Oh my gosh, Star... I'm gonna throw up."

"That may scare off the customers, Mak. But seriously I REALLY need to pee. Can't you just pull in somewhere?"

"Well, Tinkle Star, you are in luck. We're here."

He fidgets in his seat and stares at the building. "...great."

"I'll bring in the febreeze. You still carry disinfectant, right?"

"In the storage compartment of the trunk floor."