"What's wrong, Mr. Grumpy Pants?" Maka was standing by the kitchen counter when he walked in at one in the morning.
He heavily sighed, it was going to be that kind of night. "You know perfectly well what's wrong." He told her opening the refrigerator, grabbing the carton of milk to drink from it.
"It's been two months since the accident. You should go out instead of moping around here all day."
"I do go out." He wasn't really up for having this conversation again.
"I mean you should be out having fun, not just leaving the apartment to go do stupid paperwork at the DWMA. Star has been calling you to have a boy's night every day this week. You should go."
Soul sighed as he placed the milk back in the fridge. She should be yelling at him for drinking straight from it instead of lecturing him. "I told you yesterday I'm not ready to go out yet. I still need time."
"It's been two months, Soul." He looked over at her, eyes filled with sympathy. He didn't want her sympathy right now. "Why don't we go out and do something? We could go back to that jazz café you took me to when we first met, and you can play me something again. I would love for you to play for me one more time."
He sighed again and shook his head. This was definitely like her past lectures to him. "That would be really great, but I've told you before that we can't do that anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because you aren't real." It's been two months since the accident and he was still seeing her around the apartment. Why couldn't she just leave him alone instead of showing up like this? As he walked back to their—now it was just his— bedroom he mumbled, "If I keep seeing you around here I might just go crazy enough to join you."