OH MY JEGUS IT`S THE FOURTH CHAPTER! I`m so sorry guys. I have been like crazy busy for last year or so. He He funny thing, I actually have up to chapter 6 written, I just havn`t had the time or computer access to type, edit, and post it on here. So again I am super sorry. But hey, it`s the next chapter and for the next one i might mess with P.O.V. So enjoy and don't die.

Ox: Haha You`ll Never own this. I do cause I`m the top of my class.

Maka: Ox, your not even in this story.

Ox: Is that so? Well i am now.

Maka: Guardian!

Magnetic Guardian: Hm? Oh it`s Ox. Ox *evil grin* Would you like to go on an extra lesson... in my closet?

Ox: 0.0 G-Guardian dosen`t own soul eater i swear!

Patty: Rate and Review

Soul has been gracing me with his existence in my small world for two weeks now. Still no sign of my friends or that terribly dreadful thing I call my father. Soul has been living in my guest room since he doesn't have a house, which means I have to cook again. It isn't too bad, but I have to get the hang of arranging bigger portions and having to wash more dishes then the norm. As far as our relationship goes, we haven't talked about it since he arrived at my house that night. In fact, we barley talk at all. I'm not sure if it's just out of fear, or if it's us just embracing the feeling of just having each others presence once again, but all we really do is sit in a somewhat awkward silence, except for the hum of the air conditioner or the occasional beep of a machine.

I walk into the kitchen to find soul slumped over asleep at the kitchen table, which has become a common scene as of late. He's wearing a red hooded sweat shirt and grey jeans, his hair slightly shielded by the hood of the sweater. He tends to do this a lot. I'm not sure if it's by accident, if it's an attempt to piss me off, or get me to notice him. If it is, I always notice. I just sigh and walk past him; he's going to want some coffee after he gets up.
For some reason it's almost always the same routine, all he does is sits and writes. He never lets me see his work, but continues with immense concentration. I always wonder what he writes. Is it about music? Are the words he scribbles on those papers about his life under the academy? Dose he express his deepest darkest thoughts on those note book pages? I sometimes catch myself day dreaming about these questions, if that's the right word to describe it. That time when you 'space out' So to speak in deep thought. But I assume one day he'll read those papers to me. After all I am his friend, and maybe something more. But as of right now, I'm a spelling resource. He will occasionally ask me how to spell a word, and then goes back to writing continuously until he falls asleep.

He hasn't laid a finger on the piano since he has gotten here, and I know he knows it's here. I watched his eyes linger on it for a moment. It makes me wonder if he's forgotten how to play, but he's played his melodies for so long I doubt it. I wish he would play, even if it's just a short 4 measure tune though. It's so dark and mysteriously when he does. Soul is purely is own genre of music in his own. His love of music and how he's managed to basically have it become his passion makes me wonder if I should tell him. Tell him that while I waited for his return, I learned to play his beloved piano, and that's why there is one in my house. I more than just learned though, piano is my passion as well, it's my job. Lord death broke some rules; got me a degree, and now I play professionally for an orchestra ensemble. Lord death has always been kind to me. Almost too kind at times, makes me wonder what kind of fanfiction he reads.

The coffee pot gurgled as it brewed. I placed two mugs next to it and walked over to the window. The kitchen needed some light, it was morning after all. I pull the red curtains to the corners of the frames and tie them back, allowing the room to be filled with the morning sun. I yawned and shiver a little, which causes me to decide to pull my baby blue robe slightly more snuggly around me. It's a beautiful Saturday. I bet the weather is even in the perfect degrees for jeans and a short sleeve tee. There's no sign of rain and the sky is clouded with fluffy white clouds, causing it to be slightly shaded. I would be a beautiful day for a walk. I always loved days like this, where the weather is nice, and I don't have to wear a jacket or have to bother with my hair.
This perfect weather will put me in the perfect mood for my concert today. The concert will be inside in one if those overly fancy halls yes, but the walk there will be splendid and the view from the bus makes me feel almost excited to leave for my concert. The only thing keeping me from my joy is that I'll have to leave soul in the house by himself. He wouldn't want to hear me play his instrument anyway. He'd get jealous or mad or something and embarrass himself, and quite frankly, I don't think I want to deal with that. He might also nag, which also isn't pleasant. So I figure I will just avoid all of those issues by not inviting him to my concert at all. That saves my ears and sanity from danger and him from basically everything. Ya I think that will be a good idea. Soul never likes fancy places anyway.

I hear the coffee pot stop its gurgle, signaling the brew is complete, and slump over to prepare our creamy brown energy in a mug. I grab the handle and fill each of the mugs about three fourths the ways up because I'm going to need some room for the other slop I got to put in it to make it digestible. I give myself about three teaspoons of sugar and some random amount of coffee creamer. After I tasted it to my version of perfection I moved on to soul's cup of slosh I mean coffee. That's when I realized I don't know what he likes in his coffee.
"What does he-" I thought aloud.
"2 sugars and then dump the cream in their randomly, I don't care." A voice croaks from behind me.
I smile and pour creamer in to his mug, not even paying attention to how much I poured into it. "Good morning soul"
"Same to you" he yawns.
I place the coffee down in front of him and plant myself at the table in the chair directly across from him. I take a sip of my coffee. "I have work today. Don't fuck up the house." I smile smugly into my mug of steaming beverage.
He looks up at me all cranky"and why would I do that?"
"Because your you and you would" I take another sip of my coffee.
"So when did you magically get a job?" He says sarcastically with coffee on his upper lip.
"I've had one" I get up and put my mug carefully in the sink so it doesn't break. "My boss has just been on maternity leave."
"So your boss had a kid?" soul took a long swig of his coffee. Then he put his cup on the table and stretched "what the hell do you even do?"

Placing the coffee pot in the sink and smirk to myself. "I'm a musician" I walked away from the sink with an unnoticeable skip in my step, and to the door to leave. "I've got to get ready for my performance. It's at 2"
Soul stopped me right in front of the door with his voice "what do you play?" He asked, clearly surprised at the lack of information I was supplying him with.
I stopped in the doorway and spun around to look at him with a completely straight face. "Piano" then I spun around quickly and disappeared into the hallway, laughing to myself. I hadn't seen souls reaction, but I bet it was either funny, cute, or both. He probably just froze in place, mug half way to his lips, eyes wide. Or maybe he let out a small smile and laughed to himself.
Whatever it was I'm sure he was surprised. I had never been good at piano, but now I was a professional. A professional before soul, mind you. That kind of made me laugh.

I skipped to my bedroom, ran in, and locked the door. Sometimes soul forgets which room is his, although our room look nothing alike. My room has warm, deep purple walls, a shaggy red carpet, cherry wood bookshelves pushed against the back wall, a birch desk with a white laptop nesting on top, a queen bed dressed in deep red, a cherry wood chest at the end of my bed, and yet another cherry wood furnishing next to be bed with an iHome system on it. I made my room kind of look like a Gothic dungeon, yet it was modern. The most Gothic part is the artificial candle lights sitting in elegant black frames. The Modern parts of my room are the walk-in closet with full lengthy mirrors and the master bathroom.

I sighed and hung my robe on the hook on the back of my door. I needed to take a shower, really bad. It`s not that I hadn`t taken one in weeks, it`s that I had been trying to dye my hair, just to find out my hair is immune to being brunette. So now I have brown dye all over my hands. Maybe I didn`t mix it right, I wouldn't know, Liz is good with this stuff not me. Maybe my hair`s not immune to being brunette, cause my hands sure the hell aren't.

I went into the bathroom and go in the shower. It`s a strange thing to ponder over, but I couldn`t decide which shampoo to use. My mother always told me to use, matching shampoos, lotions, and perfumes because it would make you smell really nice. My by far favorite had to be the strawberry, but I also kinda liked the pear set I had. I decide on the pear and lather the soap in my hair, only resulting in it getting in my eye and me crying like a small child. I finished my shower, wrapped myself in a white towel and left the bathroom to smell of pear and hair products.

I walk over to my closet and dig my toes into the carpet. I don't exactly remember where I put my uniform. I was seriously hoping it wasn't at Liz and kids place being washed and tailored, or in the living room. I did not want to walk out into that cold hallway in my towel. My orchestra is a little on the odd side. Our uniforms consist of Black floor length dress for girls and black tuxes with bow toes for the guys. Our uniforms closely resembled those of a high school orchestra. It`s just a little strange because most other professional groups just require their musicians to wear black.

Finally spotting my dress hanging neatly in the back of my closet, I let out a sigh of relief. I`m so happy I don't have to walk outside in that cold hallway in my towel. I grab it`s plastic like bag I store it in, pull it out of my closet, and gently toss it onto my bed. I slouch over to my chest and grab my necessary undergarments, which include black boy short underwear with a silver treble clef on the side that I wear for good luck. I also throw on a tank top and some shorts for the hell of it. I need to dry my soaking mob of blonde string before I put on my uniform. I do not want to clean that thing again if it gets wet.

So for all the waiting i made you do, how is it? I warned you it was normal. I mean fluff is fun but so is picking on guys sometimes. It`s short ik. Please don't kill me.

Soul: Hey what do you mean picking on guys?!

Magnetic Guardian: Um i didn`t say that.

Soul: ye you did! right up there!

Magnetic Guardian: *giggle* Nope

Soul: Yes you did!

Maka: *maka chop*

Death: Rate and review kiddos!