A/N: usual disclaimer applies~ This is my favorite chapter yet~ I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it 8D

SOUL----

Bored.

So utterly bored with listening to some prissy nobles chattering blandly about financial stocks, the latest happenings in politics and someone's three thousand dollar teacup.

It was lunch with the Beryllton family today - oh what joy.

The white haired weapon sat at the top end of the long dining table, resting his chin on one of his hands and enjoying the view of the autumn glade outside the gigantic window instead of joining in their merry conversation - he let his brother and mother do all the talking.

Yet again, he couldn't escape from this gathering which he didn't want to be in - he should've been doing much more important things, like maybe interrogating his mother on why the marriage was still on when he had already agreed to deliver the so-called important object.

These visits seem to go on forever - stupid rich guests arriving one after the other as if they were patients to a doctor. Wes didn't seem to mind the visits though - or it could just be a facade, and he also probably feels the same boredom Soul had been feeling for the past four days.

At least there was only one more day of torture, and finally, he'd be able to go home. To his other home where he knows a certain bookworm will be waiting for him.

He smirked at the window, remembering her quiet, distorted voice over the phone. The call had been too short for him, he hadn't gotten his chance to ask about any happenings in Death City - or just simply inquire about his meister's four days alone. Suddenly stiffening as he recalled something, he groaned out loudly in frustration - partnerless weapons might've followed her around again, or even worse, what if she chose to have a new weapon? But who was he to stop her? They weren't partners anymore.

"-oul. Soul?" Returning from the little patch of memory, he recognized his mother's stern voice continuously attempting to grab his attention. Inwardly smirking, he decided to ignore her just a bit more. Since she was the cause of all this torture he wanted to share his agony with her. Embarrass her.

A recognizable sigh was heard beside him. "Soul." The voice was stern, but the scythe didn't hate it; it wasn't his mother's.

Turning to reply with a faux apologetic expression, he saw his brother's exasperated look, as if he knew what the younger brother had been doing. Regardless of the worn expression, Wes appeared to show amusement with the small twitches at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Wes, I wasn't paying attention." The looks their visitors gave him were one of apprehension - what with his sharp toothed smile that screamed deviance adding the fact that Cordelia was glaring icy daggers at him for the act.

"Soul Eater, mind telling us what you had been thinking?" His mother's eyebrow was elegantly raised in question and her eyes silently blazed in icy anger.

"You wouldn't want to know, mother." Returning his uninterested gaze to the window, he inwardly congratulated himself for successfully stifling his laughter. Oh how he enjoyed frazzling his mother sometimes - one of the things he remembered doing when he still lived this apathetic life in the Evans residence.

He stayed silent for the rest of the conversation, only catching snippets when he heard something about him or the upcoming engagement party in one and a half months time - here, usually Soul snorts.

"And the fiancée?" Mrs Beryllton had to ask, suddenly sending an unwanted chill through Soul's being, making him unconsciously clench his eyes shut in chagrin. Please don't ask about her. "Have they met?"

"Of course. They've known each other for years," Cordelia said proudly, as if it was her turn to bask in a victory that only Soul could relate to. "Go on, dear Soul, tell them about your fiancée."

He growled in irritation, not liking the feeling of being interrogated. What was he supposed to say?

"Are you happy about getting married to her?" He kept his silence as Mrs Beryllton continued. "Who is she anyway?"

"She's my meister," he finally grumbled, gaining questioning and astonished looks from the visitors.

"Meister? What in the world is that?" The scythe snorted in irritated disbelief. God, ignorant rich people.

He was ready to reply when Cordelia quickly interjected, "Its another term for partner, Maria. It's rarely used though, so that is probably why you haven't heard of it before."

"Oh, like a girlfriend?" The lady sighed in understanding whereas Soul stiffened at the misunderstanding. His mouth gaped open to retort, yet the lady continued, "I imagine that you must love her very much."

For some reason, Soul felt his chest swell and his body suddenly rise in temperature, his breath caught in his throat and panic rising from dark depths. That word affected him in such a strong way even though he didn't know what it felt like. Love? What should he say? He cared for his meister - for Maka - but he was sure it's only in friendly terms, never intimate.

Deny it. Deny it!

Before he could though, the master of the Beryllton household, a man in his early fifties, very fatherly and gentle in appearance asked, "So, is she beautiful?"

Beautiful? His favorite person's face found itself invading his every thought. Yes, he could call Maka beautiful. Both inside and out. He mentally berated himself for only just noticing - no, he already knows how beautiful a person Maka was, he just didn't want to look, didn't want to admit, because he knows that it would cause a problem - a discomfort - between them if he let this budding fascination for her grow.

Being so deep in contemplation, he didn't realize Wes' protective gaze on him, mouth slowly opening to answer for Soul instead. But before his brother could answer in his place, a smile crawled into his features and he replied, awed by the gentleness he had unknowingly inserted into his voice.

"Yeah, she's beautiful."

And the little bud sprouted its first leaf.

WES----

Alone at the library with his mother, he was glad that the guests decided to stop spontaneously visiting them and that he could finally stop the fake smiles and talking with false interests. Its time to relax.

"Where is your brother?" Cordelia uttered quietly, looking to him from her place at the glass table near the window, evening had arrived and the window was gently hidden by wine coloured drapes.

Wes found himself relaxed on one of the library's armchairs, engrossed in the book he was reading. Looking up at the question, he placed an inquiring expression of his own - his mother was never interested in whatever Soul was doing. "I believe he is in his room, since our guests left. Why do you ask, mother?"

Gently shaking her head and chuckling to herself, she let her gaze travel to the contents of her teacup. "Nothing much, its just that, now should be a perfect chance for him to…interrogate, yet he's letting this chance slip."

Just as she said, Soul had been attempting to catch their mother alone for the past few days to convince her or maybe ask why the marriage was still on - all attempts, as he expected, were futile. Soul didn't seem to want the engagement to occur, yet if his partner was even slightly mentioned, he would start to fidget in discomfort or enter a flustered state.

It was as if he reluctantly wanted to actually go through the arrangement but he was being hindered by something.

"Why is the engagement still on, anyway?" Wes inclined his head toward his mother in solemn inquiry, softly shutting the book he was absent-mindedly scanning through.

Like on the day he arrived and questioned his mother, she looked to him with eyes that were soft and warm, eyes that say that she was prepared to tell secrets.

That specific look disappeared when the door to the library opened with a long and loud creak, causing both people in the room to look towards the strangers that entered. The two visitors were cloaked in a canvas like material, hoods covering their faces, only the mouth area was seen. Wes swiftly stood alert, tense as he inspected the visitors as they took off their hoods.

"You're earlier than I expected." The son looked with confusion towards his mother who had found a place beside him. "Wes dear, can you go get Soul? Tell him the relic has arrived." As Wes returned to briefly gaze at the two cloaked strangers, he nodded his understanding and started to walk towards the entrance. Exiting the door, he thought he heard his mother mention names, Albarn was one of them.

----------

Arriving in front of Soul's guest room, he gently knocked but was found to be waiting in vain. He didn't answer the door. Was he not in his room? Trying again, he knocked twice, louder this time. "Soul?" He called, just in case his brother would answer to him. And that, he did. There was a thudding sound inside followed by frantic scuffling, as if there was a lot of small objects being moved around.

The door sounded with a rapid click, signaling that the door was opening. But open, it never did, the scuffling turned into shuffling and it was slowly moving away from the door. "Soul?" There was a slowly growing panic in the pit of his stomach due to the very strange actions of his brother. Was there something wrong?

Clutching at the door handle, he gently twisted it, the panic within him rapidly urging him to see what was wrong.

What met him was the sight of utter destruction.

Pillow stuffing was thrown about everywhere, its covers destroyed as if it was sliced open. The bed was even worse, the mattress torn open, blankets ripped to shreds, the wooden bedstead cleanly sliced into pieces. Other pieces of furniture were safe - so far.

Standing in the middle of the small-scale chaos stood his brother, standing stiffly, staring angrily at what he held in his hand.

Before he could manage to utter even a single sound of disbelief and shock, Soul talked in a broken voice, flat and lifeless.

"She knows, Wes."

What? Who?

Finally turning, Wes found himself gazing into Soul's fearful eyes, freezing every cell in his body with fear.

"Maka knows I'm an Evans."

-I'm falling in love
But its falling apart...-
Into your Arms - The Maine

A/N: that phrase in the song perfectly describes this scene... ;__;
anyway~ i guess the suspense has returned?
who are those visitors? was soul angry? or afraid? what did maka tell him? why am i asking these things!?

thank you to those that keep reviewing~ *hearts*
this story is obviously made for you guys and i'll do my best to make every chapter atleast enjoyable~
if any of you have any questions or suggestions about the plot so far - any thing confusing or something that you feel ive missed out o.o~
please feel free to tell me and i'll welcome them as much as i could~ i'll try incorporating them into the storyline~
i've had a few reviews that helped me and im very thankful to those 8'D

maka's pov next~

dont forget to review~ 8D