Two years prior
"Fuck moshpits," Maka grumbles as she leans back on the somewhat uncomfortable yellow vinyl booth. Scratch that; anything, anything feels better than getting caught in a circle pit with pricks that are twice your size and weight. She stretches her legs to make sure that nothing is broken too badly and ends up crossing into Kid's personal space, but, you know what? She doesn't give a single flying fuck because she is pissed and it's three a.m. and her favorite band t-shirt reeks of alcohol and the damn waitress has yet to show up so she hasn't ordered her godforsaken black coffee. She can feel her cheeks flush, much to her greater chagrin.
Hard as he tries, a gentle snicker comes out of Kid's mouth. A small part of him wants to laugh, but a greater part fears for his life, as Maka's head snaps towards him, a blood-thirsty glint in her olive eyes. Honestly, Kid can't see why she is so mad. Sure, Black Star sorta pushed her into the pit without as much as a warning. Sure, Soul got drunk out of his mind and became uncomfortably horny. Sure, he didn't even go into the venue; he had better things to do than get stuck in the poor excuse those wannabe metalheads considered a moshpit while listening to a sorry band with a whiny vocalist and weak lead. Sure, Maka was way too tiny to fend off the spastic limbs of the tower-like druggies…
No wonder she was pissed.
"You got something to say, Kiddo? You know what? I actually don't want to hear it. I got dragged to a shitty concert venue for a shitty post-hardcore band with shitty vocals-"
"I'm impressed you realized that that music was terrible,"
"-and shitty people," Maka continues, ignoring his commentary. "Black star fuckin' dragged me into that goddamn circle saying 'oh, don't worry Maka, you won't get hurt'-"
"That's a spot-on imitation of his voice. Impressive."
"-and guess what?! Not two seconds later that son of a bitch leaves me behind! And Soul was too fuckin' drunk to even stand so I was stuck carrying him on my back! And you know what? Boners don't feel good against your bare, bruised back! And-"
"You carried the sad bastard? You're a trooper."
"-then you're nowhere to be fuckin' seen! And then all these dumbasses are kicking and punching like there's no tomorrow and they look like goddamn idiots-"
"Ah, so you did encounter the slam dancers. They're pathetic."
"-and one of them fuckin' punched me in the gut! You better believe that I gave that bastard a pretty shiner! And then some bitch tried to fight me, saying Soul was her man! I was so close to beating that girl. But no, I just dumped Soul on the skank and left that hellhole and here I am! With you! Who abandoned me!" she lets her head drop to the backrest, letting the tension simmer out of her as she methodically kicks his shin. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain so she adds extra force to the blows.
"Sorry, babe. I really hate that music. It's for scenie weenies."
"So for Soul," she concludes, covering her eyes with the inside of her elbow.
"Exactly. Then there's Black Star, who attends so he can beat the shit out of the scenie weenies." He gradually moves his shin away from her foot's trajectory because it is really starting to hurt. If he moves too suddenly, she might pounce on him. As much as he might want for her to pounce on him, something tells him that her anger might be directed towards actually killing him, not just play fighting. A sloppy grin graces his normally stoic face at the image before him: Maka, the normally conserved girl that goes to bed at ten o'clock, is sitting at Denny's at three a.m., reeking of alcohol, pot, and sweat. Maybe even sex. Although taking a picture of her in this lowly state is tempting, Kid would rather live to see the sunrise.
"Still, you should've stuck around." The blonde pouts. What she really wants to say is "You should've stuck around so you could beat away any harm that might come my way", but her ego would never allow her to voice it aloud. Instead, she sits up in the booth and exasperatedly lets her eyes roam the diner. The intensity of the reaper's golden eyes rest on her face—she can feel it—but she desperately makes sure not to look his way. That boy always manages to make her feel lightheaded and weird. Thankfully, the waitress chooses that time to arrive. Maka is too grateful for her perfect timing to remember that she is pissed at her for taking so long to get to them.
It is a few awkward, everlasting seconds after ordering, and Kid's burning gaze is still on her flaming face. "Do I have something on my face, oh dearest Kid?" she asks after a few more painful seconds.
The reaper figures that it's time for him to make his move. With the silkiest voice he can muster, he murmurs, "Yes, Maka dear. There are two gorgeous, gleaming eyes on it," when her cheeks burn red, he takes them as a sign to proceed. "And a cute, dainty nose," his hands flutter to her face, fingers hovering over the curvature of her nose. "And rosy cheeks redder than the finest of rubies." Her face gradually leans closer as his does, an invisible chord pulling the two closer, as if by fate's hand.
Maka's eyes are round with flattery. All that scholarly, extensive vocabulary, all the books she's spent her time reading, all the words she's learned since she was a tiny tike are gone, somewhere in the fifth ring of hell. Wow, could a reaper flatter.
Kid is nervous and excited. For the longest time, he's wanted to tell the blonde all of this and more. There is something about the stubborn girl's demeanor that mesmerizes him, taunts him into submission for her desires. If he were honest to himself, he'd know that the real reason he left her behind in the venue was because his jealousy for Maka and Soul's comfortable relationship was making his anger spike to alarming levels.
"And your lips; oh they are like galaxies. So mesmerizing," their faces slowly move closer, "and vast," their eyes close, heads tilt, lips purse, "and unexplored-"
"HEY, FUCKERS! Why'd you two leave me and Soul behind?! I would've totally come with! That band sucked balls anyways!"
"Y-eah! I juss wanna eat thu panceks~"
In a blink of an eye, Maka jumps from the booth and drop-kicks Black Star and Soul to the floor.
What horrible timing.
Ehehehehe...he..hehe..he... Sorry, don't hate me! Stress + writer's block + school = no work done. Sorrysorrysorry! Lmao, I'm assuming I actually have readers... Ignorance is bliss. Well yeah, there's a lot of errors on this that I probably won't ever fix and it's a filler because I still have not the slightest idea as to what I will do to this story's plot! Hope you guys enjoyed this lame chapter and I swear I'll try to update at least each week the way I did when this story was first posted. ´ ▽ ` )ノ
-Rina
