Ch 4 When Tables Turn, so Does Heat

With her most recent victory still ringing in her ears, Maka's confidence went through the leaky roof. Listening to the little red figure on her shoulder, she went out of her way to make Soul as uncomfortable as possible, while making sure to remain classy. Though she might poke holes in her boat, she refused to sink down to his level, which was in her not-so-objective opinion somewhere along the abyssal plains.

It was so gratifying to see him turning away from a room with her in it, pretending to be searching for something before making his way back into his own room, face nearly rivaling the color of his eyes.

But while their little game somewhat equaled out, she didn't solely dominate it. So not to be accused of hypocrisy, she did make herself decent when sitting at the table, something Soul was not civilized enough to follow suit in. So he milked every moment to stretch and look her in the eyes with sly stupid grins plastered on his face, willing her to blush or look away.

And sometimes she did, but with less frequency than before. It wasn't as though she lost interest or was bored of him, she merely got used to it. It was just like dipping a hand in the cookie box, you feel guilty the first few times, but after awhile you can eat an entire sleeve without regret, until the next day of course when the self disgust settles in. And in a sense Soul was like her personal sleeve of cookies, delicious the first few times, but a bit dry despite being just as good. But Soul wasn't accustomed to her sporadic displays, and she used this knowledge against him, always with a suppressed grin hidden behind a mask of content.

This was where they differed in reactions; Maka's blatant embarrassment was expected, but Soul's sudden leaves and jumpiness made her wonder if he was secretly frigid and was an amazing actor. But that idea was tossed out as absurd, he was known to go out of his way to make embarrassing remarks about women on the street, comparing them to herself, who would pale in comparison time and time again, a cruel joke that Maka refused to give the slightest acknowledgement to. But she was sure frigidness wasn't the sole reason behind his wholesome self-consciousness, but not curious enough to inquire, she set it aside lightly and went happily on in ignorance playing their little game, too stubborn to lose despite its recent banality.

But her answer came in an unexpected way, in which she could say she never had the slightest clue, until afterword when it became blatantly clear.

After a particularly draining practice, they both dragged themselves back to the apartment, sweaty and exhausted. Soul managed to commandeer the shower, much to her irritation, taking longer in spite of her relentless door banging and cursing. Finally when the water shut off and he came out, clothed for once, probably too tired to care, she pushed past him in annoyance and was met with an eye role that may be rolling to this day.

Finally in the shower, the hot water melted the day's frustrations and sent them swirling down the drain alongside pieces of her thin hair. Once she washed off the day's dirt and grime she stepped out onto the cold linoleum floor in a towel, a habit of hers and Soul's after an embarrassing instance in which the lock didn't stick like it should, followed by many weeks of staring up at ceilings when in the same room. To her dismay, she realized she had forgotten a change of clothes. Sighing in annoyance she decided against pulling on the dirty heap of training clothes, cringing at the idea.

Listening for any indication to where S oul might be and finding none, she decided a quick get away to her room in the towel might work. Odds were Soul was passed out in his room or raiding the fridge, so their paths wouldn't cross, but there was still the mingling apprehension of what if he was just turning into the hall. Then it dawned on her it wouldn't be tragedy of any sorts, he indecently went around in a towel all the time, why the double standard?

Frowning slightly at her sudden realization of her loss in morals, which Blair surely would be proud of, she quickly pulled the handle and stepped out into the colder air, but that was as far as she managed.

A move forward too suddenly, coupled with the wetness of the floor and her haste to get into her room unhampered, she fell down neither too gracefully nor quietly onto the hardwood. It was called hardwood for a reason, she realized as her knees hit the floor painfully with a dull thump.

"Fucking fantastic," she mumbled under her breath as she held her head in one hand and massaged her shoulder with the other. And if that wasn't bad enough she spied Soul's head peering around the corner from the kitchen, so she had been right after all, and she cursed her unnecessary haste. But instead of outright laughing as was characteristic of him, he looked genuinely concerned.

"Hey, Maka, are you alright?" He stayed at his end, but she saw he was itching to make his way over but something was stopping him. Still a bit dazed, she tried sitting up slowly and decided she was fine since the room wasn't spinning or foggy, but now she had a clear view of Soul's worried, bright pink, face.

Her heart suddenly sunk into her stomach as she felt a lack of fabric above her midriff. You've got to be kidding me, she cursed and she hastily took up the towel in both hands to cover her exposed chest. But humiliation wasn't enough to steady her bruised legs, because as she speedily tried to get up to make a run for her room, again she slipped, though on the pivot this time which Soul saw from a mile way, allowing him to quickly catch her awkwardly by the shoulder and away from himself, before she went down again.

"So, you're not alright I'm guessing?" He asked, as he held her in stiff arms refusing to look down. The embarrassment consumed her, and she hoped he didn't think her slips were intentional.

She yanked away from him, the blue towel a knotted mess over her chest now,

"No," she mumbled, "let me go, I'll be fine." She pulled away from his stiff arms, face burning and wishing this memory to oblivion.

"I didn't think you'd go that far. Me, maybe," he said jokingly with a half grin that seemed out of place with alongside his blush. This was their first mention of their little game, which startled her so much she stopped, mouth agape,

"I wasn't try-, what are talk-, I can't believe you would think," but she couldn't finish a sentence, too irritated to even begin to yell.

"Don't act like you don't know what's going on," he then said offhandedly in a sort of jaded way causing her to squint back at him in annoyance and blush the more, this time in defense. She didn't like him thinking of her like this. It was one thing for the pot to call the kettle black, but another for it to do the same to the white sugar bowl, even if it was painted black on the inside.

"How about we just stop, I'm getting tired of it," he responded to her silence, a look of such pity crossed his face that she almost wanted to punch him, but remembered the toweled mess she was holding up wouldn't allow for it.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy embarrassing me, with your strutting about in nothing for months, I was just getting back," She had to re position the towel as she talked, causing her to lose her train of thought. Soul looked confused for just a second, but then smiled maniacally which made her uneasy.

"You really don't get it," he asked in bewilderment to Maka who really didn't know what to make of the comment, "why did you think I was-why I was trying to make you jealous for so long, always trying to get your attention. I just thought you were playing dumb, didn't know you're this hard headed" A strange expression crossed his face as if he was internally weighing out some option and then deciding for it.

"What in the world are you going on about, you know what, I don't care, I'm going to change and then we can talk. I can't take you seriously like-" But before she could turn into her room, she was pushed up against the faded wallpaper, with hands over her head held loosely by him at the wrists, his other keeping the towel in place as he kissed her. Whether it lasted for either an eternity or a few seconds, she wasn't entirely sure.

… Stay tuned for more. I'm not sure how quickly I can have the next one up, but I'll try my best :) As always, thanks for reading!