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It was strange to find the apartment dark, especially since Soul had pretty much gotten into the groove of everyday living. It swelled an alien panic in Maka's chest, making her toss her purse and let her feet fly down the hallway. Her first instinct was the studio but it was empty, no blinking of lights or the low hum of electronics. Maka turned across the hall quickly but found herself stuck in the doorway, unsure of what she was seeing on the bed. It was Soul, staring at the ceiling with arms crossed at his stomach, but the fear struck her that motionlessness wasn't resting but death.
"Hey," he murmured, eyes never leaving their position.
Maka took a few more steps forward to the bed, standing over him. "You scared me."
"Sorry," it was the same low, slow voice, almost robotic. He slowly reached a hand up, rubbing it over his face before letting out a sigh. "It's just… today's not good. I'm not good."
She dropped to the bed gently, trying not to disrupt his stationary position. The comparison to the party Soul was jarring, her first real taste of his depression heaving her own feelings into a tumultuous mess. "What happened?"
He rolled onto his side, hands falling lifeless to the bed as his eyes found a new focus on the comforter. "I don't know. Or maybe I do. It's ridiculous and it shouldn't-"
"Stop," Maka laid her hand over his. "Just tell me what you think did it. Don't dismiss it."
Soul let out another withering sigh, not even able to clutch at her like part of him wanted to, forcing his hand to remain inert under hers. "Mom made me go yesterday, sign up for classes, get a lay of the land."
Maka waited but when he offered nothing more, she prodded, "Did something happen while you were there?"
"No, it was fine," he murmured. He dug his fingers into the blanket, feeling her fingers tense over his. "It's all fine. I'm moving forward, right?" It was anger, but not seething, but enough that you could hear it trickle into his voice. "Go to school and be worthless there, too. Get nothing done, waste their time and their money and just amount to nothing."
Maka sighed, "I know everything I'm about to say isn't going to convince you but I'm going to say it anyway." Holding his hand in one of hers, she moved the other to his cheek, caressing him softly. "You are moving forward. You're not worthless in any definition of the word in any of the spaces that you are or will be. You do a lot of things, some of them small, but you get projects done, you've made songs, you've started running even though you hate it. And in the end, no matter what, you mean something. To your parents, to your friends, to me."
He mirrored her sigh, rolling onto his side. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize for what you're feeling." She hesitated, contemplating if her want to kiss him was selfish or if it would be helpful at all. Instead, she cleared the hair from his forehead, planting her lips there. Before she could pull back his hand was on her neck, surprising her.
Even though he'd been leaning in to kiss her, his eyes were still open, gauging the way her green eyes blinked wide. She's scared. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Her eyebrows furrowed, "I told you, don't be sorry for how you feel."
"No." Soul's hand surprised her again, slipping to her cheek. "I scared you. Tell me why you were scared."
"Scared?" she balked. "I'm not scared! Well, maybe for you, but-"
"No," he broke through her words. "When I leaned in, the first thing that showed up in your eyes was fear. When I touch you sometimes, it's fear. I can't-" He coughed the air out of his mouth, feeling the pain searing in his chest. "I can't stop thinking it's me. It's something about me that scares you and I hate that."
"Soul, no." Her fingers rubbed against his cheek, following the line of his jaw. "It's not you. It's nothing about you." The air warbled from her throat, her sigh strained. "You gave me a month, remember? It's part of that and I swear I'm getting there, I promise, but… you're hurt today, and you just want to keep hurting yourself, don't you? So, I'm going to repeat, it's not you." Maka closed the space, her lips tenderly brushing against his.
Soul's grip on her tightened as his hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck as he refused to give her space. The kiss evolved slowly, Soul dissolving into desperation and roughness before it broke with a sob, his breath trembling against her lips. "I'm worthless."
"Sh," she hushed his lips with another kiss, feeling them tremble against hers. Maka pulled away slowly, feeling his grip slip from the back of her neck and drift down her arm. "What have you done so far today?" Maka murmured as she used her gentle fingers to clear the tears from his face.
"This," he muttered.
"Shower?"
He sighed, "You were coming, so yeah…"
"I appreciate that," she smiled but it didn't catch on so she continued her work of clearing his face. "Did you eat?"
"No, but please-"
She cut him off gently with a finger to his lips. "Maybe later, then." Maka studied him, watching as his eyes focused on his hand on her arm, his fingers trailing along her skin. "Let's start with a movie."
A flash of skepticism flashed over his eyes. "Maka…"
"Small steps. Out of bed first." Maka stood and happily found that he followed her, fingers never leaving her arm as if needing the lifeline. Before he could take a step from the bed her arms were around his waist, pulling him in tightly enough that he lost his breath for a second. "Second, this." It was a small step but his arms tightened around her, that closer-to-contented sigh escaping his lips as he pressed his face to her hair. "Third, move to the couch."
The sound that left his throat was closer to a grunt but at least remotely resembled a laugh, spurring Maka to let go of his middle and take his hand to lead him down the hallway. She planted him on the couch before opening one of the shades which elicited a groan from his lips. "Just a little sun, drama queen."
"Shades should be down for a movie," he grumbled back.
"Too bad." She shot a smile back at him, finding him lounging back on the couch, eyes half-lidded as he studied her. What he was looking for was beyond her, but she kept on her trajectory. "I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?"
"OK."
"Maybe you can pick the movie?" she offered gently before starting the walk towards the hallway. As she passed him she drew her fingers through his hair, listening to him sigh as he reached out to let his fingers graze her thigh. She didn't wait for the affirmative, just moved to the kitchen and started the water. The cabinets were steadily stocked with her insistence of a myriad of tea choices even though he rarely drank any of it on his own. She picked the peppermint rose, hoping that cool, calming would reach him just as much as her touch would. All she could do was shuffle her feet as she waited for the water to boil, trying to make a plan for his discomfort.
A cold was easy: drink lots of fluids, take medicine, rest. Depression was strange to navigate in comparison, especially since she only had the symptoms and remedies of her worst days to compare it to and was that anything like what he was feeling? If he'd spent the entire morning staring at the ceiling then it was nothing like her anxious, constant need to move, that fear that catapulted her from place to place. She settled on doing what she could, to offer normalcy and comfort.
By the time she'd come to that conclusion the tea had steeped and she tossed the bags into the garbage before making her way back to him. He'd done as asked, the studio insignia queued on the screen as he sat staring at it. As she set the cups down on the coffee table his hand softly touched the small of her back. "Thank you," he murmured.
She eased onto the couch next to him, his hand drifting up her back to rest around her shoulder. "You're welcome. What movie did you pick?"
"Something stupid," he produced almost a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Critters."
"Isn't that from the eighties?" Maka grinned as she leaned forward to press play, listening as the blare of music faded away.
"It's mindless," he murmured. "It'll help."
"Good." Maka took his hand, starting to lift his arm away from around her. "Instead of this…" She then moved to lay down on the couch, making room against the inside while holding up her arm. "Come here."
He eyed her for a second, mentally negotiating the space. If he did that, Soul's head only had one place to rest, directly on her chest and while he was a hundred percent sure that nothing today was going to put him in the mood, it was strange new territory. "You sure?" was all he could manage.
"Yes," she motioned again with a renewed smile that beckoned him more than the hand. Soul gave in, slipping next to her and planting his head against her chest while the movie drifted in one ear and her heartbeat in the other. Her hand came down, resting in his hair to smooth it back as her eyes wandered to the TV. "Comfortable?"
"Yes." Tentatively he draped his arm over her, hand lighting on the fabric that covered her stomach. He had expected her muscles to tense, especially since that was the usual reaction to any touch, but all there was under his fingers was the rise and fall of her breath. The fear, it's not you, it's something in her but right now, somehow, that touch was fine. He tried not to let that darker voice tell him differently even though it had the microphone for most of the day. Instead, he focused on her heartbeat, the bad movie playing in the background, the little snorts of her laughter at the ridiculousness on the screen.
At one point his eyes shut, drifting off into a hazy half-sleep. Maka let him be, clearing the hair from his brow every now and then as she let the next movie autoplay. She focused instead on his hand, the way it sat perfectly on her stomach, the way that the warmth and pressure of it were so strangely satisfying. And while he was struggling, Maka finally found herself not, feeling no fear in his touch, his closeness. Part of it she knew was because he needed this, and she wanted to be able to give it to him, but it was something else, too, something else she couldn't put her finger on yet.
She started running the options until his eyes opened again, a low sigh of waking breaking against her neck as he angled his face there, his nose nuzzling under her jaw. There it was again, her body was not lit up by terror but… was it need? Did she actually want him? It shouldn't be absurd, especially since if someone asked she would refer to him as her boyfriend, but it was. In all regular context, she never wanted a touch, but there it was, her body for once begging for more. "Good nap?"
He simply hummed out an affirmative, another dangerous breath heating her neck.
"I think it's time you got some sun, then." She cleared the hair from his forehead, his face now tilting out of its hiding spot to blink at her.
"Do I have to?" he muttered.
"Yes, for fifteen minutes."
Soul huffed, giving her one last squeeze before slowly easing to sitting.
"Put your shoes on," she ordered before slipping off the couch, and disappearing into the hallway. The bathroom was a necessity, especially after tea and two-plus hours stranded on the couch, but it was also just to have a moment to get her body in check, to let whatever was leftover to get out of her system. He's hurting, he's vulnerable, you can't concentrate on that. She smoothed herself out before meeting him back in the hallway, Soul standing ready to be ordered around.
After slipping on her own shoes, she herded him out to the hallway, into the stairwell, and onto the street. As soon they were out on the sidewalk side by side, Soul grabbed her hand, tangling his fingers with hers. "Where are we going?"
"Just around the block. It's just sun, fresh air," Maka smiled, relieved that he could mirror her.
There was no dragging needed regardless of his previous complaint and he kept step with her. How does she know? How does she seem to make the right step each time without asking, prodding, forcing? He still felt out of whack, still hearing that grating voice of inadequacy in the back of his mind, but it was almost impossible not to melt in that smile. And he was slowly thawing out, between the sleep, the sun, and her.
She walked him to the gate of the park, taking a second to lean against the fence and examine in all the people meandering around. His fingers started at her elbows, that subtle hint he was there, before skimming down to her waist, wrapping around her stomach to hug her from behind. His head came over her shoulder, his cheek pressing against hers. There was the tense again, she couldn't help it, couldn't stop it from flexing every last bit of muscle. "That's nice," she murmured, pressing back into him as he took her weight.
Soul had felt her relax as soon as she said it, but he still couldn't stop the doubt. "You sure?"
"Sometimes…" she sighed, trying to focus on the way his hands against her middle brought that new feeling back. "It takes an extra second. It's like my body doesn't know it's you and my mind needs to convince it. But in my head, Soul, I want it."
He pressed his lips against her cheek, his arms squeezing a little tighter around her waist. "Let's go back," he murmured.
Maka danced her fingers over the skin of his arms. "As long as you promise me another one of these when we get home."
"As many as you want." He hid a tentative smile against her shoulder before releasing her, turning to start the walk back. Her hand moved back into his and she stuck close to him, eyes darting to him every few steps as she tried to gauge him. It was obvious that he still wasn't himself, but he was touching, talking, breathing and she could live with that. The walk back was slower as if Soul wasn't completely interested in getting back inside and Maka happily let it linger.
The moment that they did get in the apartment he went right to fulfilling his promise, arms back to being tightly wound around her waist, pulling her back to his chest so he could hide his face against her hair. "Still OK?" he worried.
Maka's sigh was a muddy mixture of forlorn and content. "You've never given me a reason to be afraid of you." It was weak, but a smile started across her lips, trailing back through their memories. "Like the first night I stayed here I was sure… positive you were going to come into the room that you were going to expect me to… but it didn't even cross your mind, did it?"
"I couldn't even hug you, almost didn't even talk myself into touching you at all. You got a glorified head pat and that was as much as I could muster," Soul sighed out slowly.
"But it's what I needed." Maka let the smile catch. For someone not used to touch, Soul had seemed to master it in a matter of days, his lips pressing to her neck. The electricity of that kiss refused to dissipate, and Maka found herself bewildered by the stir it caused in her chest, trickling down to the base of her stomach. She patted his arm and Soul took the signal, slipping his arms away. "Think you can eat now?"
"Yeah." He took her wrist before she could move away. "But let me, OK? You don't have to do everything."
Maka turned to him, her hand coming to his face. "Promise you won't burn anything?"
A snort of air resembling a laugh left him. "I'll try." He took the hand from his face and squeezed it. "Go ahead and pick another movie."
"Might as well be Critters 2," Maka grumbled as she turned for the living room, leaving him to go his separate ways in the kitchen.
Soul wasn't planning anything extravagant, opting for the simple pasta dish she had shown him after their first grocery trip. There were moments that were touch and go, that he was sure he'd have to call for her but that other slowly recovering side of Soul pushed against it. The fire alarm didn't sound and while the counter definitely wasn't as immaculate as it used to be, nothing was broken or in grand disarray by the time he brought the plates into the living room.
Maka had left the movie queued but had opened a book in her lap, trying to wait patiently as she heard him bustling around the kitchen. When he finally emerged with plates in hands, Maka let an attempt at a whistle leave her lips. "Look at you!"
"Just what you showed me," he mumbled.
"Looks great, though." Maka slapped her book shut as she eased down onto the floor to use the coffee table. Soul placed the plate in front of her before setting down his own and pressing play, hoping to end any more of the compliments with the boom of Critters 2.
As he sat next to her, Maka's hand reached for his, taking a second to squeeze before starting the work of eating in silence. Soul spent most of the time picking, only managing one mouthful to every three of hers. Most of his time was devoted to making it look like he was watching the movie, but the time was really divided between it and her, stealing glances at every opportunity. It's been a little over a week since she kissed me, since the party, and look at me, trying to find a way to ruin it. Trying to get her to say she's afraid of me. But she's not, she's not.
His sigh snapped her from the revelry of just being with him, making her turn to him, fingers moving to grasp into his shirt. "What was that for?"
"Just breathing," but the secondary sigh that he released made that obviously a lie.
"Or just thinking." She shook his shirt before releasing him to push her plate far enough that she could lean an elbow on the table and then paused the movie. "Today you woke up, you showered, you watched part of a movie, napped, took a walk, and made lunch. All of them a success."
"Not what I was thinking about," he admitted.
Maka pressed her lips together firmly, the answer immediately in her mind but needing to be churned, pruned for the moment. "The being scared thing, then?"
"It's stupid, Maka," he shot back, hands coming to pull back his hair. "I know you're not, you said it wasn't like that and you wouldn't lie to me."
"No, I won't." She sighed, "But I don't think telling you about it now is a good idea. You not feeling well doesn't exactly seem to mix with that."
"I don't know," he grumbled. He moved his hands from his hair to her, cupping at her cheeks. "Maybe… can I just try something?"
"Try what?" Her heart stumbled into an unsteady beat.
"Trust me," he tried to cover up the faltering in his voice by standing. He offered his hand to her, waiting until she took it and helped her to her feet. Maka's heart continued to pound as he started to lead her out of the living room, down the hallway and back to the bedroom. "Can you lay down?"
"I… Soul, if you… I'm not sure." The trembling that had started in her fingertips was rambling up her arms.
"It's not that," he whispered. "Clothes stay on, I swear." She gulped for air before lowering herself on the bed, moving over to her side of the bed to give him room. Soul laid down next to her, "Relax, Maka, please."
That's a million times easier said than done, she quipped in her head before forcing another deep breath. Remember, this is Soul. He's never done anything, not one thing, to prove what your body says every time. If he says it's not that then it's not. "I might be as relaxed as I'm ever going to be," Maka let out a weak laugh.
"OK." But he still spent a few breaths just laying next to her, his hands to himself but his eyes all hers. After enough time had slipped by he raised his hand, bringing her eyes to it as he carefully rested it on her stomach. "When I touched you here before, it was fine?"
She touched a tentative finger to the top of his hand, reliving her wondrous thoughts while he had been sleeping. "Better than fine."
"What does it feel like?" he murmured.
"How do I answer that?" she let out a short laugh, turning her eyes to his again.
"Just try," he shrugged.
Maka chewed at her lip. "It's warm…" She paused to laugh at herself, her hand coming to her face to try to wipe it away. "I guess the pressure is nice, like you're holding me steady, or maybe like you don't want to be apart."
"What about this?" He brought his hand up slowly from her stomach, letting her eyes follow the movement until his fingers touched at her collarbone, running a slow line from its start to finish.
"It tickles," she laughed but her stomach fluttered as he traced his finger back. "But it gives me goosebumps, too."
"This?" His hand slid to her throat but before he could flex her hand was at his wrist, pulling it away.
"Not that," she croaked, feeling like those fingers were still there clenching tightly against her neck.
"That scares you?"
She nodded quickly, trying to manage a swallow after to try to clear the sensation.
"Alright." He gently coaxed his wrist out of her grip, moving his hand to the side of her face instead, gently moving down her cheek. "This?"
"It makes me think you're going to kiss me," she smiled softly.
"Do you want me to?"
"I thought I told you that you don't have to ask," Maka managed a short laugh.
Soul shook his head slowly. "I think I want to, and I think I want to practice this with you when we see each other, too. I want to know the touches that are OK, the ones that scare you, the ones that you like."
"Practice touching?" What she thought was going to be a laugh shriveled into a breathy sigh, that swell of emotion in her chest strangling it.
"Yeah," he inched closer, "The last thing I want is for you to be afraid. So teach me."
Maka couldn't wait for him, tipping her head so that their lips met, no permission needed.
