I'm back! Took awhile to get this precious gem out, thanks to some lovely plot building.

CHAPTER TEN- APPEAL

SOUL

Hunger could weigh on the mind like an insatiable parasite- ready to devour anything they may sink their teeth into. It gnaws at the root of all common sense, and cradles thoughts of morality into a sweet lullaby. He felt his control waning with every breath. The scent of her filled his nostrils and tainted his tongue. The urge to gorge on her pale skin vibrated through his fingers. His damp palms would clench, and unclench, warring in civil silence.

Maka's pink nightgown would brush his legs every now and then; a painful reminder of her very palpable presence. Curse that woman. Since the demon-diagnosis, she'd been crawling into his bed every night. Whether it was to keep an eye on him, or torture him, he didn't know. (Especially considering her clear obsession with life-threatening situations). Yet, as his girlfriend, she was far more difficult to get rid of than usual. He wasn't willing to risk kicking her out- with a 50% chance of making her feel bad… or receiving a book to the face. It took more than mere self-control to squash his growing desires. Somehow, she'd found his bicep to be the perfect pillow between her breasts (unbound, he might add) thinly covered by scraps of chiffon and lace. Stupid, stupid woman. In what world did she think that it would be a fine idea to crawl into a blood-sucking demon's bed, and rub up on him with nice lingerie? Was this some insane loyalty test that girls subject their boyfriends to? The kind that has only one right answer (which is not, "you look fat in that").

Maka used to be nothing but bone, back in their teenage years. And though he loved her all the same, he never would've expected this voluptuous beast in his bed. She was not fat, far from it. Although, those breasts had him questioning her diet.

Ugh. He laid a palm over his eyes, grieving his poor cranium before a three-inch novel were to be lodged into his skull.

"Why can't you sleep in your own bed?" He grumbled, untangling his arm from her grasp. A pair of hazed, emerald eyes fluttered open- peering at him through rims of thick lashes.

"You're warm." She mumbles, too fatigued to rile up a fuss. God, he hated the look on her face. With those lips parted in labored breathing, her eyes glazed over, and her cheeks flushed with color. Delectable.

"Look, Maka. It's not like I don't wanna be your personal heating vent- but I'd like to sleep in my own bed. Alone." He emphasized, freeing his arm from her clutches. The disoriented blonde whined as she rolled over in the sheets, taking them with her in her tumble off the mattress. "Damn it, Maka. I just washed those. Don't drag them on the floor like-" She was stumbling away before he could even scold her, dragging his clean sheets across the floor. And she thought he was a pig.

"I need those!" He called after his spiteful, drowsy meister. Even between sleep- she was still as vindictive as ever. With an elongated sigh of defeat, he flopped back down on his bed. He could still smell her from the next room over. Honey, strawberries, and a hint of wild roses.

...

MAKA

...

The next morning was more challenging than she'd anticipated. Washing silk sheets were not her specialty, and it was a mystery what would happen to them in a tumble-dry. Maybe stealing his sheets wasn't the best idea. Karma really bit her back, having to figure out how to clean them. Maka pressed her forehead against the communal washing machine, groaning at her failure. Soul, the weapon she'd known her entire life- her weapon- was a demon. She wanted to help him more than ever, after finding out. But she didn't know how. Books, in this sense, were her greatest ally. She'd buried herself into countless novels stocked in the DWMA library. Demonology, Guide to a Healthy Demon, Creatures From The Dark Side, and even Excalibur. It was worth a shot. But all of them lead to one simple conclusion.

'…The aspects of a healthy demon, mainly concerning his/her diet, are mandatory in order to live in a well-balanced demeanor. The sanguine demon (those who possess a sharp set of teeth) require two of three sustaining methods. Blood, preferably that from a humanoid as it is rich in minerals; Souls, of any origin, though the Grigori are a rare and delectable ideal; and Sex. Demons are said to absorb life-force through sexual acts… with an added bonus of appeasing their cravings… of course anyone would prefer the likes of Excalibur over a measly demon…'

The text floated amongst her groggy consciousness, reminding her of her past efforts. Soul had grown more and more distant in the past few days. She'd wanted to do something to help. They had their lives hanging in the balance over this, especially with the mission steadily approaching. If he wasn't… fed properly- the madness could take over. Or worse, it could take them both. The mission was tonight. They'd be completely out of sync if he wasn't focused in time. And his focus wasn't going to come when all he could think about is soul-sapping his partner.

Soul-hunting wasn't exactly the most casual proposition to her roommate, so that option was first to go. Which left her with two options, that she was entirely capable of providing. Maybe not skillfully, but surely capable. She didn't bother asking herself if she was ready. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be more ready to have sex. She never thought her reasoning would be to satiate her weapon's newly acquired needs. But, this was Soul.

As long as it was with Soul, she was more than willing to do it with him. She was willing to try anything, so long as it was him.

"Stupid virginity." She moaned, thudding her head against the washing machine glass. Her one problem was, he wouldn't have sex with her. No matter how many times she'd tried to seduce him. Frilly pajamas, physical contact, nothing worked with him! She knew she wasn't the most knowledgeable about attraction- or being sexy. She'd never really done anything with anyone.

"Isn't it? That's why I got rid of mine a loooong time ago." A certain voice chirped gleefully. Maka's face burned, her eyes flitting open to catch a lock of violet hair. "Don't tell me that scythe-boy hasn't made a move yet."

Maka straightened, her vision filled with a pair of oversized breasts, a tight black leather mini-dress, and mile-high boots. That cat never changes.

"I may have moved out, but I still live here, you know." She said with a pointed, manicured finger; reading the shock on Maka's face. "Besides, that delicious club owner is busy and can't do my chores for me." She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder wistfully. "So here I am."

Of course. Maka thought to herself, scowling. She has men do her laundry for her. Incredible. Maka ran a hand through her hair, unamused. Blair was nothing if not bad luck. You know the expression about black cats?

"How do you even do it, anyway? Seducing all these men." She scoffed. A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. Seducing men. That's Blair's specialty.

"It's a gift, really." Blair shrugged her shoulders with a feline grin, proud.

Maka paused for a moment. She wasn't exactly thrilled on asking for sex-advice from Blair. But she was running low on options. It was a humiliating topic, at least for her. Just ask. She willed herself, contemplating on how to form the question. "If… I wanted someone to do my laundry for me, how would I do that?"

Blair's pouty lips curled, devious as she examined her new disciple. "You mean scythe-boy?"

Maka groaned, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "Yeah, whatever, just tell me."

"You have a thing for Soul-kun?" Blair gasped dramatically, raising a hand over her lips to emote comical surprise.

"Blair!" Maka fumed.

Blair's yellow eyes appeared to be cackling with amusement from the inside, but she dared not laugh aloud. "Weeeell, I have a little quick-fix. My secret lust dust." She reached into her leather jacket, pulling out a small vial. "Works like a charm every time." She winked, wiggling the bottle between her fingers.

Maka pursed her lips skeptically, eyeing the glittery concoction. "It's not a love potion or something, is it?"

Blair chuckled softly, sliding the vial into her palm. "No, it just enhances what he already feels for you. Makes those lusty feelings his number one priority. Trust me." Maka rolled the tiny glass cylinder in her hand, watching the dust swirl in the tube.

"Add it to any kind of drink. Guaranteed to work."

Boy, did she hope so.

…

The fact she was taking any of Blair's advice made this plan a recipe for disaster. She had exactly five hours to get Soul to drink out of a milk carton- and have sex before they headed off to a deadly battle. …Let's recap. Maka had to get Soul to drink anything that she could slip this lust dust into. Nothing would be more suspicious than handing that man a random drink. He'd figure her out in milliseconds. But, Soul loved to drink from the milk carton in the fridge. Which, she admittedly hates when he does. She'd make an exception just this once.

Undoing the tab of the milk carton, she unveiled Blair's magical scheme- observing its contents. It had an odd pinkish hue to it, swishing about in the small glass. It occurred to her that Blair never really mentioned how much. Maka cursed under her breath, her fingers frozen on the vial cap. If she didn't put enough, it might not work. And if she put too much… well, it's not like there are any side effects.

Maka emptied its contents into the carton, folding the spout shut and returning it to the fridge. Step one accomplished. Now, all she had to do was wait. Though, it wouldn't hurt to give him a little incentive after the effects of the dust. She returned to her bedroom with a spring in her step, a satisfied little grin dancing upon her lips. That stupid demon was getting what was coming to him. If he was just going to isolate himself from the problem, she'd take matters into her own hands. Humming quietly to herself, she sifted through her underwear drawer.

"You're in an awfully good mood." A white-haired male grumbled from the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on a piece of lace between her clumsy hands. She fumbled, slamming the drawer shut in an effort to conceal the secret horde of unworn lingerie in her dresser. It's not like she'd ever worn it- but he'd never seen it, either.

"H-Huh?!" She yipped, jumping away from the wooden furniture. She nearly fell backward onto her bed in the process. Why did he have to catch her off guard like that?

"I figured I'd come by… and apologize for kickin' ya out last night." He admit, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Doing her best to swallow her plan to the grave, she smiled at him empathetically. "It's okay. I might've overreacted." She responded, reaching for the folded set of silk sheets on the bed. "I washed them. Maybe we can call a truce?" She offered sheepishly.

Soul Eater cocked an eyebrow. "Might've?" He echoed sarcastically. Maka glared at him in warning.

"You do want these back, don't you?" The level of sarcasm in her voice was equivalent to a mouthful of sea salt.

"Yes." He rolled his eyes at her, taking his sheets. Their knuckles brushed momentarily, sending a shock through her veins. They hadn't touched in awhile. She couldn't remember ever feeling his touch so strongly. Like an electric current sailing through the body.

"And Maka?" Soul turned to face the doorway, silk sheets in hand. His crimson eyes rippled with curious emotion, his face distraught with an uneasy tension. "Stay out of my bed."

The depths of her stomach solidified into stone, weighing down on her wounded hopes. The statement hurt her in ways she could barely process. Soul's attraction to Maka had never been so apparent. Even so, she'd assumed it still existed. Somewhere, deep down. Would he have done all he had, if he wasn't attracted to her? Could it be that he felt nothing more than the bond of a Weapon to its Meister?

"So much for lust dust." She couldn't provoke something that wasn't there in the first place. If he didn't already feel attracted to her, there was nothing she could do.

...

SOUL

...

He wasn't prepared to take on a half-naked meister. Much less so, on the battlefield. It was moments like these that he missed Maka's EAT-class uniform. That, and her flat-as-a-board chest. Instead, his Meister was prancing around in scraps of leather reminiscent of a certain witch bitch. It was and effort to keeps his eyes away from those leather booty shorts, and the matching swimsuit-like top that barely container her tits. Lord Death. Whenever he'd been asked about Maka's new 'functional' uniform, he'd comment on the cool skull belt. Or the asymmetrical thigh high boots. And on occasion, his only saving grace, the yellow striped jacket she wore. Maka's only concern with her uniform was functionality. The less fabric, the easier it was to move in- so her logic goes. Similar to the time she wanted to improve their soul resonance by having sex- she'd never been more blonde. (The experiment was quickly shut down by a teenage Soul with a semi-active conscience… and an eavesdropping Spirit).

Kid was never a rival to worry about. The first time he laid eyes on that… ensemble, he'd nearly had a seizure over the asymmetric boots. Blackstar, on the other hand, felt it was his job to make a scene. His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull, following an insane number of profoundly obscene comments. He would've beat him halfway into the hospital if it weren't for Tsubaki. But, that certainly didn't account for the rest of the male population that would see his Meister in that suit. The thought brought his limbs into a will of their own as he slung an arm over her shoulder.

Her high-strung, wavy pigtails whipped in the air as she turned with a questioning brow. "What are you doing, Soul?"

The full weight of his arm laboring her shoulders, he flashed her a set of deathly white teeth. "Making sure everyone knows who you belong to."

"What are you talking about? We're going to work." She made a funny face at him. Her eyebrows squiggled in confusion, her nose crinkling in a lopsided fashion. It was a cute expression.

"I'm talking about this." He hooked a finger beneath the halter of her top, strumming the thin ties that kept her breasts contained under two skimpy triangles. The perversion of her outfit somehow eased his urge to cover her in blood. It was an ample distraction, to put it mildly.

Fire eclipsed her eyes, slapping his deviant hand away. "Soul Eater!" She warned. One more tug, he might've seen her breasts. With the accompaniment of an encyclopedia smashed to his face. Seemed like a fair trade. "It's a professional environment. Besides, what's wrong with my uniform? It's completely utilitarian."

Utilitarian. More like a sex-appeal magnet! "I don't think any evil-doer is going to be professional when it comes to that get-up." He chastised, gesturing to her coordinate with his eyes. "Nor will I. You're my girl, battlefield or not."

Maka tugged on the leather cuff of his sleeve. They were complementary to each other. "All of a sudden, you want to parade me around?"

"I always have. You're the most badass chick I know." He chuckled, leading her in stride through the doorway. "I just want to show off the fact that you're mine."