Hello everybody :) Sorry if you thought I gave up on this story. Definitely not the case. I love this story. I've just been having to deal with personal things and was having trouble getting the inspiration to write. We're getting close to doing our time skip and I think you will enjoy these next two chapters. As of right now I am thinking that chapter 20 will be the end of this story, but we'll see.

Thank you to all who have left reviews and who have encouraged me to keep up with this tale. I still enjoy the premise very much and am hoping to evoke some strong reactions out of my readers.

This chapter is slightly more Soul-centric than usual. Enjoy. ^_^

Upon leaving Black*Star's apartment, Maka had taken a cab to the local library where she pored over whatever material she could find about sign language. She stayed until near closing, and before she left she checked out every book she had started on. When she had arrived home her first stop wasn't her refrigerator to find herself something to eat. No, she instead sat at her computer and found more sources for studying sign language.

She printed out a chart of the ASL alphabet, read about the history, and paled when she realized she was about to attempt to learn an entirely new language just for one person. Her night was spent in a haze of confusion and happy delirium, unable to decide whether or not to continue smiling or to throw up.

Eventually she had to give up the ghost, exhaustion taking the place of her desire to study. She slid into bed and grabbed her iPod from her nightstand, plugging her ears with headphones. This was a new habit of hers, something she had picked up from Soul. Though she still didn't get music like he did, she found the languid melodies of slow jazz soothing, and she drifted off to sleep with Ella crooning to her.

Maka's slumber was interrupted by the chirping of her phone and a sound knocking on her apartment door. She snorted deeply, surprised by the aural intrusion, and glared at…nothing. Heaving herself out of bed she shuffled towards the door, grousing all the way. Soul really was rubbing off on her.

"Who is it!?" she demanded. When no answer came, she threw open the door and yelled again. "I SAID, who IS-"

And there before her, a computer bag slung over his shoulder, stood a dumbfounded Soul. He blinked, then snorted, and then he laughed at her. He laughed! Maka could only stare. What was he doing here? Their date wasn't for several hours yet. Her eyes dropped to her phone, widening as she read the numbers on the screen. A text flashed across the display as she gaped.

Did you forget?

The poor blonde just kept looking back and forth between the phone and the man in her doorway. It was 6:17…in the evening. The evening! She had slept for fifteen hours. How was that even possible? She never…

Her reverie was interrupted by rough knuckles rapping on her skull.

"Ow! HEY!"

Ivory eyebrows raised and he looked back and forth from her face to the inside of the apartment. Without hesitation, Maka seized him by his leather jacket (she was really coming to love that stupid thing) and pulled him inside. She raised herself on her toes to offer a quick kiss, only to be surprised when he pulled her closer and lingered against her lips.

Oh. Oh, that was nice.

A dreamy smile settled on her face and she patted his chest lightly, asking to be released. Soul obliged, though begrudgingly.

I need to go clean up a bit. The Thai menu is on the fridge. Have a look through it.

He nodded and placed another kiss on her forehead before she darted away, scooping up a couple of books from her coffee table and disappearing down a hallway.

After kicking off his shoes he sauntered over to her couch and set up his laptop on the coffee table. The couch was thick and plush, nothing like the ratty piece of scrap he had back at his place, and he noticed how absolutely pristine her apartment was. Her hardwood floors practically gleamed, and the bookshelves (of which there were many) were chockfull of material. He was sure there were more books in her apartment than he'd read in his entire lifetime.

For a brief moment Soul wondered what she was doing dating him. He wondered if he was good enough for her. A scowl crossed his pale features as he chastised himself. He was good enough. Of course he was. Soul had a lot to offer her, he just had to make sure she could see that. And things weren't going badly at all. They'd been progressing quite steadily in their relationship, and though he was cautious to admit it to himself, he was happy.

Having set up his computer, he strode to the kitchen to grab the menu off the refrigerator. A picture on the counter caused him to stop for a moment. A red haired man sat with a book and a small ashen haired girl in his lap. A large hand reached out to pick up the picture and Soul studied it with a great intensity. Though he still hadn't met the man, he deduced that the person in the picture must be Maka's father. Maka never spoke particularly well of the man. In fact, it really seemed that she despised him. And yet, she kept a picture of him reading to her prominently displayed on the countertop of her home.

A rueful smile tugged at the corners of Soul's mouth. Even if they weren't close, he desperately hoped Maka understood the importance of family.

A sudden pressure on his back startled him from his thoughts, a strangled yelp escaping him. The picture that he held flew up in the air, his hands shooting up in a frenetic attempt to catch it as it fell back down. Though he had to juggle it for a moment, he managed to clutch the frame to his chest, a relieved sigh pushing from his lungs. Once his faculties returned to him, Soul turned around to find his girlfriend with her hands up, attempting to placate him, wet bangs plastered to her forehead.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to…what do you have?" Maka apologized and then pointed at the object he held so tightly.

A bright blush tinged Soul's ears as he offered Maka her picture with a sheepish grin. He hadn't been snooping. Not really. The picture had been right on the counter, but it was still embarrassing to have been caught ogling something that wasn't his.

Maka took the photo from him gently, seemingly unperturbed by his actions, and placed it back in its rightful spot. She brushed past him to pluck the menu from the door of the fridge and handed it to him.

"Here," she murmured. "I have to go dry my hair, but I'll be back in a few minutes."

He looked at her quizzically. She wasn't speaking clearly enough and it made it hard to read her lips. Clumsy fingers grabbed at her wrist as she tried to depart, a worried noise squeaking in his throat. It wasn't as if this was his first time in a girlfriend's apartment, but he was unused to being so readily trusted and he felt ill at ease.

"Soul, what are you..." Maka trailed off as she looked up into pleading red eyes. She'd seen him be shy, she'd seen him embarrassed, and she'd seen him a bit angry. But she had never seen him look insecure before, and it was plain as day, even to her, that that was how he was feeling.

A thin finger was held up to his face and she deftly slipped away from him to pull a pad and pen from a nearby drawer.

I just need to dry my hair. Don't worry so much. Just make yourself comfortable and order dinner, you can order online. Get me something spicy!

He whimpered and reluctantly let her go, trudging back to the couch and flopping heavily upon it. His mind whirled as he considered what he was doing. He was about to open up to somebody in a way he never had before. Yes, this evening was supposed to be filled with fun and laughter, and maybe he'd get a little play (not that he was counting on it). But this was also about getting to know each other better so they could stand on equal footing.

Soul had had a few girlfriends over the years, but never anybody he'd felt comfortable enough to truly share himself with. Even if he had, his relationships never lasted long enough to get to that point. The women weren't patient enough and couldn't handle life with a deaf man. He became a burden to them and was seen as less than a person and more as a problem. Maka was the first woman he had met that didn't make him feel small and insignificant. She didn't treat him as trouble or act like he would eat her soul. She challenged him, stood up to him, stood up for him, and did her best to interact with him.

Proverbial butterflies danced in his stomach as he turned his head to stare down the hallway. A shiver rushed through his body and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He was falling in love with Maka Albarn, that was undeniable, and he clung desperately to the hope that he would not scare her away.