Day 4 - Red Rose: "My best friend is dating a member of your band" AU

They are not dating.

They are just really good friends with a lot of unresolved sexual tension.

"I can't believe you fell asleep during our set," Soul snorts. "Epitome of uncool."

Maka elbows him in the side. It's embarrassing enough that she fell asleep at a bar, let alone during the band's song. Black*Star, childhood friend and Guitar God or whatever he is calling himself this week, had made her swear on her first born child that she would show up to support them even though she has been awake for four days writing papers. "Shush. I said I was sorry!"

"Now you have to make it up to me," he shuts his guitar case with a loud snap.

"How?"

"I'll think of a way."

"Oh my GOD," Black*Star says loudly with an exaggerated sigh, "just MAKE OUT ALREADY, JESUS CHRIST!"

Maka slaps him in the back of the head with a file full of papers. "Idiot! It's not like that."

"It's not?" Tsubaki, Liz, and Black*Star ask in unison. Soul says nothing but busies himself with his guitar.

"No." She doesn't think so, anyway. Maybe? They are walking a fine line into a very gray area. Maka has no idea where they stand, really. They spend a lot of time together doing date-like things, like movie nights and dinners. There has been handholding (big for Soul, who doesn't like people in his personal space) and cheek kisses (big for Maka, who is a huge secret romantic) but no actual confirmation of feelings. "Everyone just– just shut up."

"Soul, you should stand outside her window with a boom box like in 'Say Anything'," Liz teases. "Or show up with a dozen roses. Maka would eat it up."

"Ugh, you guys are the worst," Maka buries her face in her hands. "Soul, say something!"

Soul only arches an eyebrow at her. "You like roses?"

"As far as flowers go, they're not bad," Maka mumbles. "But that's notthe point–"

Liz and Black*Star make obnoxious kissing noises and Tsubaki tries to quiet them, only to dissolve into quiet giggles.

"I hate you all."

The next morning, Maka shuffles out of her apartment to check the mail. Taped to her door is a single red rose paired with an obnoxious orange post-it note.

Real date to make up for falling asleep during our concert - y/n?

"You are such a loser," she says out loud with a big smile and pulls a pen out of her pocket to circle y repeatedly.