AkireRosales: A Lannister always pays their debt! Enjoy!
Whispers
Chapter 20:
"Whispers in the Night"
"If I never knew you,
If I never felt this love,
I would have no inking of...
how precious life can be"
"And if I never held you,
I would never have a clue
how at last I'd find in you
the missing part of me.
In this world so full of fear,
full of rage and lies.
I can see the truth so clear in your eyes.
So dry your eyes..."
They were walking together.
How much he had missed that. Just being close to her, watching how her loose wheat blonde hair danced with the wind. She was covered in a long warm fluffy ivory colored coat, a white beanie on her head, and hands safely tucked inside her coat pockets. His coat was a lot lighter, but Ragnarok was well fed and making a good job keeping his blood comfortably warm. Why was he shivering then?
Oh yeah... he was terrified.
It was so weird, feeling so scared, so anxious and lost, while being so close to her. He was just a couple feet behind her, walking on the snow, towards an apartment complex... her apartment. Maybe it was his paranoia, maybe it was a sixth sense, or maybe it was the way she seemed to be so distant, quiet and cold... but he didnt want to reach her home. Something was telling him that there was nothing for him in there, the talk they were having wouldnt be of his liking... and Maka was so quiet. He didnt dare to talk to her, to break the silence, so he just walked behind her, like a frightened puppy unsure if a whine would earn him a kick.
Was this it? Was this how everything was ending? The thought of losing her, completely and forever, was making him feel physically sick. Even so... what right he had to feel that way? It wouldnt be fair for her, for him to voice his wishes... he knew what he was getting into from the start. He had no right to feel the way he was feeling, it wasnt fair for her... and his feelings never mattered during his whole life, anyway. He was used to it, being rejected, being discarded, if Maka cutting all ties with him could help her feel happy... then he would leave her, for good.
It didnt hurt any less, though.
"Here" Her voice made him jump, opening his eyes widely, looking up at her. She was standing in front of a large well-kept building. It was around five floors tall, with four large doors perfectly organized in a symmetrical fashion in each side of the building, for a total of eight apartments in each floor.
"Kid would love this..." Crona mumbled to himself, a soft laugh from Maka making him look back at her.
"I guess" She chuckled, walking towards the stairs dividing the building perfectly in half. He followed her suit, both meisters reaching the second floor.
The snow in the balconies of the building was somewhat thick. No matter how much the people living in there would try to keep it clean, at the end of the day there always was a new fresh layer of snow. The footsteps of both adults could be seen perfectly, the swordsman barely having a piece of his mind available to think how funny the snow being crushed under his feet sounded. He stopped suddenly, watching how the blonde meister stood in front of the second door on the right, opening it with a pair of keys.
"Welcome, come in" Maka said, stepping aside to let the swordsman get inside first. He nodded at her, tapping his shoes on the floor a couple times to remove the snow before stepping in.
He looked around with interest... this was Maka and Soul's home. It was all clean and colorful, with flowers on top of the dinning table, and a large bookshelf next to a cushion and a lamp, just the way it used to be back in her old apartment. The living room had a large sofa, and a good sized TV with disorganized cables and a pair of game consoles. The sofa's pillows were scattered around and one was even on the floor. Soul's favorite place, surely.
"Sorry its so messy, we didnt leave the apartment this weekend" She sighed, taking off her ivory coat along with her beanie and white gloves, placing them on the coat rack near the entrance. The inside of the apartment was warm and cozy, allowing her to be around with nothing but her light white long-sleeved blouse and black pants.
The swordsman followed every move of the scythe meister, who walked towards the living room and quickly fixed the pillows in a more presentable fashion. Thats when Maka noticed a pair of empty bags of chips under the tea table. She growled, obviously annoyed, taking the bags in her hands and crushing them, taking the garbage to the kitchen's trashcan.
Crona said nothing, knowing perfectly well how Maka disliked messy environments. He stood there, in the middle of the apartment, just looking around with mild interest. In the bookshelf, there was a pair of portraits of Maka's mother, and some others with the whole group, when they were younger. The swordsman stood there, eyes fixed on the book titles and the pictures working as book separators. There were pictures of the old Lord Death, of Kim and her gang, of Black Star with Soul doing funny poses, even there was one picture of Spirit holding Maka as a child. But...
"They're not there" The scythe meister said suddenly, making him jump right on the spot. He looked at her, confused, noticing her almost blank face staring back at him. "... the studio, that door."
The swordsman glanced at the place she was pointing at, a half open door. Unsure, he gently pushed it, looking at the small room. It barely had the minimum, a full equipped desk, a small sofa and a very bright ceiling lamp. The desk was loaded with books, most having more than one bookmark, but what made his heart skip a beat were the photos. He was there... a very old cherished photo of himself and her, in their first party together. It also had the most recent one... himself in a tuxedo, Maka hugging his right arm, wearing her wedding dress. How ironic... their first and last photo, one next to the other. Her desk also had a picture of Soul, fast asleep in their old apartment's sofa, with Blair sleeping on his stomach.
"Those are my favorites..." The voice of the meister interrupted his thoughts, blinking a couple of times before looking back at her. She had a far away look on her face, emerald green eyes staring at the photos. "I like watching them while I work"
Crona said nothing, his hand slowly reaching for the picture of Soul, taking the frame closer to his face. He looked a lot younger, probably a picture taken eight years ago. His midnight dark eyes focused on the cat sleeping on the albino's stomach, and he couldnt help but drop a soft sad smile. He hadnt thought about it, but he missed Blair.
"T-They're nice..." He said in a low tone of voice, leaving the picture back on its place. "I-its a lot larger than my apartment"
"Yeah, a treat of being a three star meister, it has its perks" She explained, blinking a couple times before pointing out the obvious. "You could ask Kid for a larger apartment, he could find you a very nice place"
"W-what for? I-its just me and Blair... I like the apartment, a-anyway" He said with a small soft smile, his sad eyes having a far away look that lasted just a couple seconds.
A sudden, large and uncomfortable silence fell upon them. Maka looked down to the floor, frowning, her eyes being hidden by the bangs on her forehead. He stood there, in the middle of the studio, shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. It felt so weird being in her apartment... he was feeling like an intruder, an invader... almost unwelcomed. The apartment had such a home-like aura, the scent of the place was unique, it was the same feeling he would get when stepping in Marie and Stein's bedroom. Like, the whole house was okay and even felt warm and comfortable, but for some reason their master bedroom always felt off-limits. He was having exactly that same feeling. He didnt belong there.
The scythe meister moved away from the studio entrance, walking to the small kitchen and taking out a pair of glasses, filling them with tap water. He followed her with his eyes, watching her sitting down on the dinning table and placing a glass of water in the place next to her. He understood right away, walking with doubtful footsteps, sitting in his designated chair, at her right. This was it.
Anxiety was slowly but surely gripping at his heart, making him breath in quicker more superficial breathes. Cold sweat ran down his spine, both of his hands tightly holding each other on his lap, trying to hold his trembling in place. Not only he was feeling on edge and out of place in her apartment, being an obvious intruder, but she hadnt given him any hint of what she wanted to talk about. There were too few topics to deal with, and he was sure none were of his liking... this was the kind of "talks" that would end badly, he was sure of it.
A soft hand, squeezing his right arm gently, made him yelp and jump in his place. Wide icy blue eyes stared at the source, meeting Maka's worried emerald green eyes, looking at him with a frown. He swallowed hard, unable to hold into her gaze for too long, looking down to the untouched glass of water in front of him.
"Please calm down..." She said, her tone of voice calm and soft, almost solemn. He knew she was trying to soothe him, but she was making it sound like someone who is about to tell you your puppy turned into road kill. It had that "I'm so sorry" undertone he despised.
"I'm not comfortable here" He whispered to her, icy blue eyes looking around. The messy sofa, with one of Soul's jackets carelessly hanging on the backrest. The walls, adorned with many frames of photos with the albino and the blonde meister. The scent of the place, a combination of both. He didnt belong there, he was an intruder, and the place felt unwelcoming.
"I know..." Maka said in the usual soft tone she would use when he was at the edge of one of his panic fits. Her hand rubbed his arm, up and down, trying to give him some sort of relief. Why would she take him there, if she knew he wouldnt like it? Why not any other place? "Its safer that way..."
Safer? Safer from what? What possible danger could come from him? Was she fearing he could hurt her? He would never! His eyes looked at her with a worried frown, a hurtful expression, his hands squeezing each other on top of his lap.
"... you fear I could hurt you?" Crona asked, attentive eyes staring at her face. She shook her head, the bangs on her forehead moving slightly, emerald eyes finally looking up, meeting his gaze.
"No. No Crona, is not that" The blonde meister said, her hand rubbing his arm sliding down to his hand, holding him tightly and taking it on top of the table.
He gasped, allowing her to move his hand, feeling the warm soft grip of her fingers. In a few seconds, his right hand was being held by both of the scythe meister, her eyes fixed on him, on his trembling fingers and bony knuckles. Her thumbs caressed the back of his hand, fingertips following the trace of every finger, of every line, slowly and carefully, like trying to make a mental map of it. Crona had wanted that touch last night, he had needed it so much, but she rejected him... it was because they were in public? She was holding him now because they were hidden in her apartment? Was that it?
That wasnt fair.
He wanted to pull away, his hurt quite evident on his face. He wanted to state his point and shove her hands away from his own. This wasnt a good deal, this wasnt what he wanted. She now was avoiding him almost every moment of the day, but she would get close to him when they were alone? This wasnt a fair deal, and he wanted to let her know by pulling away from her.
His free hand moved up, holding Maka's hand into his own, grabbing her tightly, firm but gentle, trapping her soft hands in his palms. He couldnt pull away, no matter how unfair, no matter how hurtful, not having her was a lot more painful. He stared at her hands, so soft yet so strong, skilled hands that could bring damnation with a scythe, or heaven with her touch. He couldnt have enough of those hands, and she knew it... she knew how much he needed her touch. Why would she touch him now, if it wasnt because of that? He could feel his hand starting to tremble, forcing him to tighten his grasp on her own to avoid it. He didnt want her to see him so hurt, so vulnerable, he didnt want to upset her, but also he felt the need to preserve what little dignity he could get a hold into. Dont cry... grown ups dont cry...
"Why are we here?" He asked, barely in a whisper, bowing his head. His eyes were focused on their intertwined hands almost viciously, holding into that picture for dear life. He heard the meister at his side taking a long deep breath, her hands still giving that soft rhythmic caress on his own with her thumbs.
"I think you know why" Maka's voice was soft and low, but nonetheless it held strength. Her voice left no place for doubt. Should he know why? Yes... yes he knew.
"Why are you avoiding me?" The swordsman asked, eyes focused on their hands, and nothing else. He couldnt lift his gaze and meet her eyes, he didnt dare. He knew if he locked eyes with her, he would break.
"... Crona..." The scythe meister called for him, one of her hands releasing itself from his grasp, reaching his right cheek. He felt her thumb softly rubbing his skin, and her fingers trying to make him look up at her. He didnt run away from her touch, but remained with his eyes locked in their hands,
"It hurts Maka... it hurts so much..." He musited, his shoulders showing a slight tremble that traveled through his arms, straight into the nervous hands holding her own. "I cant deal with you avoiding me..."
"I'm not avoiding you... Crona look at me" Maka's voice was still firm, her fingers softly pushing his chin up, making his midnight dark eyes look straight into her own. "I know you understand... why no one can see us together..."
"No I dont! We've always been together!" He didnt mean to yell at her, but it happened. The scythe meister flinched slightly, surprised emerald eyes looking at him with a hint of hurt in them, her hand moving away from his cheek. Crona bit down his lower lip, releasing her from his grasp, nervous hands going down to his arms right above his elbows, hugging himself. He lowered his voice again, trying to control himself. "We used to hold hands, and have dinner together, and sit next to each other, we never got to worry about people watching us."
"Its different now, and you know that" The blonde stared at him with worry, watching how the trembling in his arms was now running down his spine, as if he was shivering with cold. But she knew, what he was feeling wasnt cold...
It was anger. She could see it in his eyes, the icy blue taking control, the deep frown in his face, his gritted teeth.
"Why it has to be different now? I didnt sign up for this!" He suddenly exclaimed, getting up from his chair and moving away from her. She knew why he was keeping his distance, he didnt want to hurt her. Crona choked a wimp in his throat, instead his voice talked with a low hiss in his tone, icy blue eyes staring at her with restrained anger. "You promised! You promised nothing would change between us! You said you would always be my friend!"
"I am your friend! But we cant be like that here! In my home! In my workplace!" Maka raised her voice, barely controlling herself to not start screaming. She couldnt help it, her very soul was in pain, her reason barely keeping in check the roaring demands of her heart. She got up from the table chair, moving away from him, leaving the table as a solid wall between them. "Please understand! I cant be that cynical! Hanging around with you next to my husband, who is also your friend! You know how much it hurts?"
"D-D-Dont talk to me about pain!" The swordsman suddenly hissed, his icy blue eyes staring at her with a deep scowl. His face, filled with hurt and anger, wasnt a common sight to behold. He was usually so collected and passive with his feelings, keeping them to himself most of the time, but now they were pouring out of every pore, of every word and every stare. His eyes had lost that tender puppy side of his, looking venomous, looking sharp and hostile, like the eyes of a snake. "You dont know the meaning of that word! What can you know about being hurt!? You know how it feels to see you in someone else's arms!? You know how much it hurts watching you walking holding his hand!? Or seeing him touching you!? You know how it feels to go to bed, knowing he's asleep with you in his arms!? You have any idea how much it hurts!?"
"I KNOW!" The scythe meister finally screamed, losing her temper, her open palm colliding with the table top, making the dry sound resonate in the empty apartment, making the swordsman jump on his spot. Her breathing was deep and rushed, her face showing a deep red in her cheeks, hurtful emerald eyes staring at him with passionate resentment. "I KNOW HOW MUCH IT HURTS! You remind me that everyday with that bitch of Eruka! Thank you very much!"
Her words seemed to have caught the swordsman off guard, his icy blue eyes losing their poison, his furrowed brows twitching slightly. His angered face turned into a low scowl, and for a minute the whole room got quiet. Nothing could be heard but their rushed breathing, Crona's panting slowing down into more controlled slow breaths. He took a step behind, adding more space between them even when the dinning table was a very solid barrier.
"W-Why you say that?" He asked, wary, on edge.
"You think I enjoy watching you being with her all day? I want to be with you!" Maka said, exalted, frowning when noticing Crona was stepping away from her. With a low growl, she walked towards him with determination, both of her hands moving up to hold the swordsman's face in place, forcing him to look down straight at her.
His large blue eyes, shaking and unstable, were now completely focused on her. His height forced her to look up, helping herself with her hands guiding his face closer to her. He was warm to the touch, his cheeks flushed, his lips half parted, astonished. Her thumbs caressed his cheeks, the memory of an angry bleeding bruise popping into her mind.
"I want to go out with you, and hold you, I want to hug you like before, and have you around... I want that so much..." Her eyes softened, and for just a moment she allowed her soul to say the words her mind was fighting off to hide.
"I want that too... I need that... Please..." Crona whispered, his voice low, filled with need and desperation, forcing a shiver down the scythe meister's spine. They were so close, her body warmth calling for him, so badly the swordsman couldnt help it.
He raised his arms, holding the small meister against his body, hugging her tightly. She gasped lightly, just the soft sound of air being sucked by her lips in surprise, but she didnt push him away. Her hands were still firmly holding his cheeks, thumbs caressing his skin, she wasnt rejecting him. Leaning down on her, the swordsman pressed his dry lips against her earlobe, taking a deep breath of her scent.
"I miss you so much... I miss your voice... your touch, I miss your lips, I miss the heat of your soul..." He whispered in her ear, softly, enticing. His hands, rough yet unbelievable gentle, caressed her back in slow up and down movements, fingers digging on her waist, almost in a possessive way, demanding being closer to her.
How much she had missed his voice, whispering to her. How much she had missed the feeling of his strong slim body in her arms. His breath next to her ear forced consecutive shivers down her spine, his hands amplifying the effect, making her tremble against him. She wasnt used to feel this way, she had never felt this way before, she had no idea how to deal with the heat rising on her cheeks, moving down her chest and stomach, pooling like melting lava below her waist, forcing her to close her legs tightly.
Her hands traveled around his neck and behind his head, fingers digging into his hair, holding it in firm but harmless fistfuls. He shivered in her arms, pulling her closer to him, both of their bodies tightly pressed against each other. Maka could feel her lungs struggling for air, but not because of the tight embrace, but because of the overwhelming excitement filling her being. She could recognize that thundering of her heart, the shivers down her spine and the tingling in the palms of her hands. That familiar, addictive sensation of desire and passion, slowly but surely filling her being.
The swordsman wasnt in much better condition. His breathing was quick and superficial, his trembling hands holding into her for dear life, showing how much he was struggling to control himself. He hid his face from her, lips resting on the base of her neck. Despite the layers of clothes, she could feel his warm breath permeating through the fabric. She shivered, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. Her enticing sound took a toll on the swordsman, who pulled her closer to him, if that was even possible. She had to stop it, this was wrong, she had to make it stop, before she couldnt control herself.
She moved her hands from his hair to his chest, and slowly, painfully, pushed him away. She didnt need to use strength at all, just a soft push that forced Crona to untangle his arms from her, icy blue eyes staring back at her, in pain. She stretched her arms, as far as she could, forcing him to step away. She didnt dare to look at his face, not for too long, his eyes were enough to tell her she was mauling his heart.
"No Crona... I cant do this... not here..." She bows her head, looking away from him, feeling his rushing heart behind her palm, resting on his chest. As if she were touching a boiling pot, she moved her hands away from him, walking away a few steps, her arms moving up to hold herself. "Thats why we are here... I need you to understand..."
Understand what? She kept asking herself that, as she took enough courage to look back at him, straight into his eyes. He was dead silent, icy blue eyes staring at her with hopelessness, his sharp shoulders trembling slightly, his anxious left hand finding vague confront in gripping on his right arm tightly. She got the whole weekend to think what she was going to do, and until now, keeping herself away from him, she thought she had reached a conclusion.
But now, being so close to him, the words were choking on her throat, and doubt was crippling her resolve. She tried to explain to him, that what they were doing had to stop, it was wrong, and yet... she couldnt. She couldnt say it, she was doubting and just thinking about saying the words were tearing her soul apart. Doubt, fear, anxiety and pain were everything she could feel at that moment, and rage started to build up within.
"...You promised" Crona's soft voice, breaking the long silence, startled her. He had his head bowed, long bangs covering his eyes. "You promised... nothing would change between us... you said nothing could take us apart... you promised..."
"You promised you were mine!" Maka's loud angry voice resonated in the apartment, making the swordsman jump in his spot, lifting up his gaze. He looked angry, desperate and lost. Seeing him in such a state was painful, his words were painful, the inner fight inside her was painful. Everything hurt, everything ached, an Maka was getting desperate, tired of feeling the mess of emotions so alien to her. Her emerald green eyes filled with unshed tears, of pain or anger, she couldnt tell. "Dont talk to me about broken promises! You said you were mine! And yet I saw you in the party all over that bitch of a frog!"
Her words seemed to have an effect on Crona. The hopelessness on his face vanished, his pale features turned dark with anger, a deep scowl showing on his face. The grip on his arm increased, nails digging into his own skin, almost puncturing it.
"D-D-Dont call her that!" The demon swordsman hissed, making his voice sound almost like a threat. He was being protective over Eruka, and that only enhanced Maka's rage.
"Why you care so suddenly about her!? She was the one who forced you back with your mother! She doesnt care about you! She's using you and you are an idiot for not seeing it!" The blonde meister yelled, anger, jealousy and pain clouding her mind.
"S-S-She's not using me! S-She does care! A-and I d-dont like when you talk bad about h-her..." Crona stuttered, yet that didnt diminish the anger in his tone. It was obvious he didnt want to start a yell contest, so instead he bit down his lip, frustrated and obviously distressed.
"Oh now you're teaming up with her!? Why!?"
"She's my friend! Just l-like y-you!" Crona tried to explain with distress in his voice, eyes wide, pupils contracted and frustration painfully showing on his face, enhanced by a deep frown of his eyebrows. "I dont like when people talk bad about you, and I dont like you talking bad about h-her either"
"A friend... like me?" Maka repeated, slow words dragging out of her lips. She could feel the heat of anger rising up her throat, filling her face. She didnt like Crona's tone, barely restrained, pent up and worked out over Eruka. How could he be so vehemently trying to protect her? Why was he so defensive about her? She couldnt help it, feeling so angry, just by the thought of having the same value for him as... anybody else. "Wow! Just a couple days and now she is my replacement! So our friendship is so cheap that anyone can take my place!"
Her words left her lips before she could hold them up. She wasnt thinking, she wasnt reasoning... it was nothing but her doubt, her fear, and all of her insecurities making the talk. By the time they were said, by the time Maka bit down her tongue knowing her words were not only hurtful but also false, it was too late. She stood there, pressing her lips tightly together, as the swordsman stared at her with wide disbelieving eyes. His tall figure was trembling, eyes out of focus, left eyebrow twitching. He was staring at her with shock, icy blue eyes showing nothing but despair and sadness. The silence between them got tense, long and unbearable. That is... until his hurtful features started to transform into a scowl, brows furrowing together, icy blue eyes glaring, tears of desperation barely restrained, fists clenched tightly making fingernails dig into his own skin.
Crona wasnt angry. Anger didnt fully enclose all the feelings dwelling inside the swordsman. There was so much pain, so much frustration, so much doubt, fear, guilt and heartache to be described as anger. No, he was beyond angry, he was completely enraged.
His clenched right hand opened and closed in slow movements, black blood hardening on his palm before any drop could stain the well polished wooden floor. Right there, on that slashed bleeding palm, Ragnarok's weapon form materialized as a large broad sword, sharp edge falling heavily into the floor with a metal sound. It wasnt personal, not really, the weapon was responding to the natural call of anguish of his meister's soul.
Crona couldnt deal with it, he couldnt deal with all the hurt, all the sorrow, the doubt, fear, the heart broke and his chocking feelings being slammed and stepped on mercilessly into the ground. He wasnt used to feel so much, he wasnt used to feel much of anything at all, so the whole situation was too overwhelming. He couldnt deal with it, and Ragnarok's simple answer was to deal with it the only way they were taught to. As his weapon partner's words roared into her soul, to deal with it, his right hand trembled badly, fist tightly clenched into the sword's hilt.
Maka wasnt scared, not at first, but Crona had never summoned his sword without the intention of actually using it. He wasnt the kind of man who would make empty threats, he had never threatened anybody without meaning it. Seeing him trembling before her, wielding his sword towards her, icy blue eyes staring at her with hurt and rage... it reminded her of that time, so long ago, when Arachne mocked him about Medusa's love. She hurt him, she knew that much, but she couldnt take her words back... saying she was sorry when a sword was pointing at her would have no meaning.
"H-H-How... How c-can you say t-that..." He stuttered, teeth clenched, his voice sounding in a low threatening whisper.
Maka bit down her lip, words chocking on her throat, emerald eyes staring at him with the same hurt she knew he was feeling. She wanted to get close, to hold him, to tell him she didnt mean to, to tell him she was wrong. Yet, her legs didnt respond, her feet solidly unmoving, her very soul trembling with the growing wavelength of the swordsman.
"H-How can you think that.. of me..." He musited, head bowed, right arm trembling while holding into his weapon partner until his knuckles were white. "H-How can you think I can replace you... I cant replace you... I cant replace you as I cant change my own heart..."
His words let her know he was still holding a grip on his sanity. He was aware, he was conscious of his actions, he wasnt gone yet. Madness, as thick as it was sapping from his soul wavelength, was still being controlled. Maka raised her hand, hoping she could get near him, hoping she could talk to him and amend her mistakes. All of her mistakes...
Yet, as the sword meister raised his face to meet her, a shudder ran down her spine. Those ice cold eyes, contracted and out of focus, forced her to step back.
"Yet that doesnt matter to you! I give and I give and I give but that is not enough! IS NEVER ENOUGH!" Crona finally snapped, eyes wild and unfocused, sweat running down his face and neck. His right hand, holding into his weapon partner, was trembling in rage. "What is this unslakable monster I cant satiate!? What is this kind of unbearable madness!? What kind of torture is this that I cant escape from it!? I give and I give and I give yet it is still taking everything away from me!"
His words hurt. Seeing him hurt, was almost unbearable for her. Knowing she was the cause of it was even worse. Night was quickly falling in the city, the natural light of the apartment dying out, leaving them in darkness. Yet, it wasnt dark enough for losing sight of the swordsman, who was trembling in anger and despair. His sword remained still, sharp edge resting on the floor, leaving a defined scratch on its surface. Crona's booming loud voice made her yelp, jumping slightly on her spot.
"This has taken my sanity! My friends, my heart, my mind and now is trying to take you away from me! What is the name of this insatiable fiend!?" He asked her, despair and anxiety filling his voice. She didnt respond, emerald green eyes staring at him in silence.
"Is this love Maka!? IS THIS HOW LOVE WORKS!? I DONT WANT IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT I HATE IT AND I WANT IT GONE!" Crona's words, roared in pain, finally mauled Maka's resolve. She stared at him with hurt, fists tightly clenched, holding on her coat as a vague attempt to hold herself in place. "... if love means losing you... I dont want it... I hate it... I hate it so much..."
Just like that, it was over. The madness strike on his wavelength stopped, his ice blue eyes slowly receded, leaving the deep midnight dark tone she loved so much. Just like that, after pouring out what seemed to be all of his resentment and pain, after confessing his feelings, he calmed down. His breath, quick and superficial, was slowly turning back to normal. After a few seconds in silence, Ragnarok vanished back inside his partner's body, leaving his right hand empty.
The swordsman stepped back, ashamed of his outbreak, his face avoiding Maka's stare. Both of his hands moved up to hold his own arms, hugging himself.
"I told you I loved you... and now more than ever I feel like I'm losing you. I miss you... I miss your laugh, your voice, I miss talking to you and being around you... why I cant keep having that? Why love is now making it impossible? I feel like I've been abandoned..."
"Crona..." Maka tried to talk, slowly walking closer to him, stopping right on the spot when the sword meister stepped away from her. She saw him shaking his head, refusing to be close to her.
"In the party with Eruka... I felt so good... I felt welcomed and accepted" He whispered, dark eyes looking away from her, straight into a random point in the floor. "She made me feel normal... and not like some kind of embarrassing dirty secret"
That hurt, a lot.
"Crona... you're not a secret... I-"
"Yes I am! I cant talk to you now if we are not alone! I cant be near you in public now! If I try to hold you, you push me away! You make me feel like I am some kind of disease you dont want to catch!"
Maka was out of words. Slowly, the blonde meister took a seat in one of the disarranged chairs of the table, both hands resting on its surface. She looked down to her own hands, eyebrows furrowed in a deep stare that quickly turned into a frown. It wasnt as if she didnt know what to say, the reality was... she didnt notice she was being so hurtful. All she had been thinking about was herself, about her own problems and her own feelings... but did she ever stop to think how she was making him feel?...
She stopped writing to him on purpose. When he arrived, she ignored him and gave him the cold shoulder in public. In private, she pushed him away. In the party he reached her for just a single innocent touch of hands, and she brushed him off... what kind of bitch she was, doing that to him?
"Eruka treated me so nicely that... she reminded me of you. The way we used to be, that..." He interrupted himself, catching his own tongue, making the scythe meister to look at him with a frown. He was staring at some random point in the floor with a far away expression on his face. She didn't like that expression one bit. "I just... needed to feel it again... love"
Red flag. The frown in Maka's face deepened, staring at how Crona kept on avoiding her eyes. She was seeing guilt, disappointment and pain in his face. Her heart started to race, the tingling of adrenaline filling the palms of her hands, a silent constant throbbing pulsing on her head. Her breathing quickened, yet remained silent, allowing him to talk, to say what she was already guessing.
"She's not using me... I'm using her" He confessed, his voice leaving his lips with a long slow sigh. Giving one more step behind, his back finally met the wall, leaning against it for support. He shook his head, a small sad smile showing on his face "She asked to be my friend and I'm using her... to cover the void you are leaving inside me... but I should have known its impossible. This void in my soul... is like trying to apply a bandage to a severed arm."
Again the silence, falling upon them uncomfortably, awkwardly, tense. Maka could feel the grip in her heart, like claws of some prey bird squeezing into it. It was anxiety, fear... she was so not used to feel that. Her emerald eyes slowly dragged towards Crona, seeing him hunched on his spot, his back resting on the wall behind him, hands gripping on his arms tightly. He wasnt trembling as much, but his face was filled with guilt and regret, sad dark eyes glancing away from her. She was afraid of asking, but she had to... the suspicion was already settled in her mind and wouldnt leave her alone.
"Have you kissed her?" She asked, in a low calm tone of voice, her eyes focused on his reaction.
He jumped on his spot slightly, surprised by the question, wide open eyes looking at her. Their gazes met, steady wary emerald green looking back at tense shaky midnight dark. She was hoping for him to go into his usual stutter and tell her vehemently he hadnt, he would never do such thing. She was hoping he would start rambling embarrassed with his usual shake of hands. She was hoping for him to get offended, to even go back to an anger fit and complain about her thinking bad about him. So, she stared at him, waiting, hopeful... a hope that died the moment the swordsman looked away, trying to seek a way out of her prying, staring at a far away wall on his left side.
Her instincts and temper got the best of her. Getting up from the chair, she walked in long steps towards him, too fast for him to react and move away. He looked up, scared and confused, as the scythe meister took a hold of him by his black coat, forcing him to stay still and look down, straight into her eyes. She was frowning, green eyes glaring at him, her hands holding fistfuls of his clothes.
"Have you!?" Maka asked in a low growl, shaking him slightly with the tight grasp she had on him, ramming his body against the wall behind him. He let her, his tall body looking frail in her iron grip, allowing her to move him around and thrash him if she wanted to.
A brief silence, his small toned chest puffed up with a long deep inhale of hair, before deflating slowly. He took a long slow sigh, slowly lifting up his face to meet her eyes. They were so close, and yet Maka had never felt him so distant. As Crona finally found his voice, he let out the timid answer, dropped in a soft whisper barely audible, just for her.
"Yes"
Heat rose to her face, pooling at the back of her throat like a clot, blocking her windpipe. Her breathing quickened, making her feel dizzy, head throbbing and spinning, so badly she gripped into him tightly, fearful of losing the strength of her legs. Yet, Maka managed to remain still, her face unreadable.
"A-After the party... in h-her r-room..." He stuttered, sad dark eyes staring at her with what seemed to be guilt, but... there was something else. She didnt dare to guess what was it, she didnt want to know.
She felt like punching his face. She felt the need of yelling at him. She felt the boiling anger in the pit of her stomach, the anguish gripping and squeezing her heart, the fire of pure rage running through her veins. Her grip on him trembled, slightly shaky fists still holding into him, and at the end all she could do was ram him against the wall in a demanding violent push, making him yelp in surprise rather than pain.
That was all she could do. All of her anger, all of her pain, reduced to just a simple push, as she walked away from him, straight into her room. Her hands were shaking, the anger and adrenaline filling her brain making her clumsy, her grip slipping off the door knob a couple times before she managed to open the door. Crona stared at her with confusion, pain and fear, as she finally kicked the door and walked inside the master bedroom, leaving the door open.
He didnt dare to talk, he didnt dare to stop her, he didnt even want to follow her. He knew it was best to leave her alone when she was in such a state... but his body had a mind of his own. Silently, he followed her to that room that before just now it had remained closed. It was large and well decorated, with a matrimonial bed neatly arranged covered by a light cream colored quilt. It was dark, the translucent window curtains barely allowing the remaining sunset light to illuminate the room. Yet he could still see the wooden furniture, a dresser in front of the bed, and beside it a door that seemed to lead to a private bathroom. Maka was leaning on the dresser, hands trembling, gripping into its edge while her green eyes stared down to something only she could see.
Crona was dying to reach her, hold her and explain himself, but he knew better. Maka wouldnt listen, not until she could purge whatever she was holding inside her. She asked him if he had done it, and he wouldnt lie to her. He was a horrible liar, and even if he tried to lie, she would find out immediately... but she hadnt heard the whole truth either. The swordsman could only imagine what she was thinking, and he had to take deep breaths just to not lose the remaining sanity he had left.
Suddenly, the scythe meister punched the dresser in front of her. Despite her best effort to control herself, apparently, the strike still made the furniture to shake and complain with a loud cracking sound. He jumped on his spot, scared and surprised, watching her move around the room like a caged lioness, ready to maul the very first thing in her reach.
Instead, Maka reached for the bed's large pillow, holding her tightly between her hands before pressing it hard against her face. Crona couldnt help to wince, as he saw her screaming her lungs out against the fluffy pillow, chocking the sound with it. Despite emitting a low sound, he still managed to hear how she damaged her vocal cords with such deranged scream. It lasted several seconds, but slowly the scythe meister seemed to calm herself down.
He stood there, at the room entrance, watching her moving the pillow away from her face. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks red, but there was no tears. The swordsman moved forward a couple steps, as the blonde meister finally took a seat in the bedroom mattress, her body bouncing a bit in it. The room was now almost in complete darkness, the sunset finally over, the black moon showing high in the sky.
Crona looked at her. Her eyes held a lost expression, a tired look that was so uncharacteristic of her, the spark of fight in them unable to be seen. Slightly hunched, Maka held the pillow against her chest, hugging it, and he couldnt help but think he would give his very soul just to be that pillow for a minute. He hated seeing her like that. He despised even more knowing he was the reason of why she was like that. He wanted to take it back... he wanted to take everything back.
"Did you like it?" Her voice caught him off-guard, making him jump on the spot. Her tone of voice was low and solemn, almost a whisper.
What was he supposed to answer? He didnt want to make it worse, but he didnt want to lie to her either. He didnt like the question at all, how you answer that without making it sound all wrong? He didnt want to lie, lies were the reason they were in that tangle of problems. Just the truth, no matter how hurtful... just the truth.
"Y-Y-Yes..." He answered after a long silence, swallowing hard trying to clear his suddenly dry throat. He was hoping for another anger tantrum, or for her to look at him with hate, but nothing happened. She just sat there, emerald green eyes looking lost in thought, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"Why are you still here then?..." Her voice was steady, but he couldnt help to notice a dark undertone in it. She sound hurt and resentful. "Why are you not with her?"
He pressed his lips tightly together, frowning at her words. How could she keep saying that after all he said to her? Did his confession suddenly erased everything he had done for her? Everything he said to her? He stepped forward, walking a couple steps towards her. She lifted her gaze, green eyes staring back at him. She wasnt angry, there was no anger in her eyes anymore, but she looked lost and confused...
Just like him.
He could empathize with those feelings, he knew what she was feeling. Uncertainty, confusion, fear, the horrid feeling of not knowing what to do, what to say, or how to react. In slow steady movement, the swordsman joined her, sitting beside her in a decent comfortable distance, almost at the edge of the bed. He looked down to the floor, his left hand reaching up to his own right arm, holding himself seeking comfort.
"W-Why would I?" He asked back, dark eyes barely able to see her in the darkness of the room. The dim artificial light of the streets sliding through the windows helped out a bit, yet still he had to force his eyesight. "W-What happened was just a t-test..."
His words had a reaction. She looked back at him, her frown deepening in a scowl, hands gripping tightly into the pillow against her chest. He stared back at her, unmoving, and for a moment the thought of being punched by her was enticing. At least that would show some kind of feeling towards him, at least hate would make her feel some kind of passion for him. What was there to lose anyway?... he had nothing now.
"W-What if I was wrong?... w-what if what I'm feeling isnt love? I hate it... I hate love... love was the weapon my mother used to control me... love is making me lose you. I wanted to stop feeling it but... maybe if I could feel it for somebody else, then I wouldnt lose you..." As the words left his lips, he managed to add a soft sad smile, dark eyes looking down to the floor with a far away expression in his face. "As a joke, she offered to test it... we kissed in her room... and that was it... I felt nothing"
He allowed his words to settle in, remaining silent for a while. He wasnt lying, he felt nothing... at least nothing of importance. He knew very well how kisses felt, the warm merging of lips and flesh, the tickling, and even the enticing heat when it deepened. But... that was it. Where was the electric shocks arching his back? Where was the lack of air? The fluttering inside him? Where was the adrenaline of anticipation and the exhilarating thrill that only happened when kissing Maka? It could never be replicated, it would never happen if it wasnt with her. Without her, he felt nothing, and that was the truth. Why he couldnt say all that to her without stuttering like a broken disc?
Why he had to say that to her, when she was supposed to know? She had been inside his soul... had she already forgotten all of it? Six months were enough for her to forget what happened between them? Or maybe she was purposely ignoring it... he had no idea what explanation hurt the most.
As Maka remained silent, he managed to hold into his remaining courage to look back at her. She wasnt staring at him any longer, the anger drained off her face, leaving behind nothing but a blank stare at some random point in front of her. Her eyes were glassy and out of focus, as if deep in thought, her knuckles gripping tightly into the pillow being the only sign of her being aware of her surroundings. The dense silence remained between them for a while, and she was still quiet. His nervousness got the best of him, daring to talk again.
"S-She's just my friend..."
"I'm just your friend too..." Maka interrupted him, her voice low and calm. He didnt like that tone of voice, it made it very hard for him to guess what she was thinking, what she was feeling. It had a subtle hint of... sadness in it, maybe anger, a little resentment... why?
He couldnt help but think about her words. He should be relieved that she was still calling him her friend, but he wasnt. If anything, that word was now a source of discomfort, summoning a void in his stomach, filling him with an ill mood he couldnt explain. How could they still call themselves friends after all that had happened? She pushing him away, avoiding him, ignoring him... friends didnt do that.
"Are you really?..." He asked, a frown showing on his face. His words made the scythe meister blink, her face glancing towards him with a frown of her own.
The swordsman got up from the bed, left hand gripping his right arm, free hand clenched into a fist. His long hair, arranged in a low ponytail that barely held most of his uneven locks, still had a few bangs covering part of his face. He shook his head, clearing his eyesight from the lose strands of pink hair, midnight dark eyes staring down at the scythe meister sitting in bed in front of him.
"You ignored my last letters... you said you would stay in touch, and yet you ignored me. You said nothing would change between us... and yet now you push me away. You brush me off, you avoid my touch, and now I cant even talk to you in public... am I a friend!? Or some kind of awful stain you want to get rid off!?
"Crona..."
"Answer me!" He interrupted her. There was hurt in Maka's eyes, but Crona had finally lost the remaining strands of his unending patience. He couldnt deal with her painful stare, he couldnt deal with his own heart wrenching agony, and that conversation was going no where. He had to know, for his sanity, he had to know. "Are you still my friend!?"
Crona stood there, in front of Maka, breathing heavily and shaking with pent up frustration and anxiety. The question that had been haunting him since a month ago finally had left his lips, and now he was vulnerable, in the open field of uncertainty. Despite the darkness of the room, there was enough dim light sliding through the window's curtains for them to see each other.
Maka kept on sitting in the edge of her bed, pillow tightly held against her chest, emerald eyes fixed on him. Despite his words, despite the urgency in his eyes for an answer, the scythe meister remained silent, staring at him, studying him, fixed on his deep dark eyes and the trembling of his body. Finally, as the only answer he would apparently have that night, she looked away, avoiding him once again. She remained silent, she didnt answer him, and that by itself was answer enough to his question.
The swordsman eyes filled with thick tears, barely restrained, and he finally crumbled. Falling on his knees right in front of her, he approached the blonde woman with a defeated look in his face. She was staring at him, eyes wide open, her face filled with shock, hands finally letting go of the pillow to move towards him.
He didnt allow her to stop him. Crawling towards her on his knees, he reached both of his hands up to hug her by her waist. His proximity and his chest pressing against her knees forced her to open her legs, allowing him to get closer. Now, right in front of her, he pressed his forehead gently against her stomach, keeping his face hidden from her. He felt her tremble, her body shivering for a second, unmoving and shocked.
Silence. As quiet as it could be, as thick as rotten water, as uncomfortable as thousands of broken glass cutting through his skin. Nothing could be heard, not even their slow shallow breathing. His hands, although holding tightly on the scythe meister, remained still and wary, ready to let go at the minimal hint of a push. Being so close, with his head against her stomach, face buried in her clothes, he could smell her scent filling his nose. She always smelled so clean, the very subtle scent of light perfume and her skin would always be a source of pleasure. He could feel it, filling his whole being, making him think there could never be a better scent than that one. The thought of that being the last time he would ever be that close to her forced a painful shiver down his spine, choking the threat of a whimper in his throat.
Time seemed to have stopped, silence and darkness playing a sense-numbing feeling on them. Had it passed a minute? Half an hour? He couldnt tell, but as long as she allowed him at his side, he would stay put, holding her close, cherishing the seemingly endless moment. Suddenly, the feeling of warmth on top of his head made him jump slightly, fingers traveling through his scalp letting him know it was Maka's hand, caressing his head. Another hand quickly joined, fingertips sliding down the nape of his neck and through his upper back, drawing circles in the spot between his shoulder plates. The caresses were soft and slow, inviting, allowing him to relax against her, his arms hugging her around her waist more firmly. He could feel her thighs around his torso, perceptively bringing him closer to her, pressing together against him subtly. She wasnt pushing him away, and that was enough to ease down the growing pain in his soul... that is, until she started to talk.
"I've been wondering... how my life would have been if I never met you..." She said in a low calm tone of voice, almost as if she were commenting about a mundane event of her evening, instead of that heart-wrenching confession. "I thought... you didnt change anything. I would still be a meister, working for Lord Death, I would still had managed to make Soul a Death Scythe... I would still be married to him... your absence in my life wouldnt have changed a thing"
He didnt want to hear it. He didnt want to hear any of it, but her words were just the prelude to what was coming, something he knew quite well. He didnt want to know, but she was already saying it, tearing his heart and soul apart. How could she say such hurtful words, when her hands were caressing him at the same time so wonderfully?
"And yet you changed everything" She musited, her voice going dark. He didnt have to lift his gaze to know she was frowning, talking through her teeth. The fingers caressing his hair stopped, holding into him with a firm painless grip. "You changed my vision of the world, you changed my personality, you changed my goals and aspirations, you changed my values... You made me stand up against Lord Death himself, you made me disregard direct orders. When Shibusen expelled you, I even contemplated the idea of abandoning my dreams as a meister and chase after you. When no one believed in you, I threw away my reputation and alliances to stand by your side."
She made silence, allowing her words to sink into his head. Doubtfully, the swordsman eased the grip on her waist to separate himself from her a little, lifting up his gaze to meet her eyes. Those emerald green orbes looked tired, hurtful, glassy and filled with what he could only describe as hopelessness. That was such an odd thing to see in her. He knew how much Maka hated to feel hopeless, but there it was... he could recognize that feeling everywhere, and he didn't need their resonance to know she was feeling just that.
Her hands traveled from his head and back, fingers moving around his neck and up to his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. Hypnotized, his midnight dark eyes stared at her, allowing her fingers to brush against his eyebrows, moving down his chin, thumbs softly caressing his lower lip. It was almost as if she were making a mental map of his face. Maka leaned down on him, making him hold into his breath, not knowing what to expect. For a moment, just a moment, he felt the excitement of what seemed to be an attempt of her to kiss him... but she stopped. Barely inches from him, she recoiled back, her hands slowly, painfully receding to her sides, no longer holding him.
"Even now... even now you're pulling me in the same path as my father and I'm letting you do it... My married life is ruined, no matter how much I want to fix it, your memory ruins everything." Her voice was cold, anger filling every word talked through gritted teeth, tense lips and furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes, like emerald daggers, stared into him with what he could only describe as controlled resentment. "I cant rest, I cant sleep, I cant focus on my job and I cant work with my partner any longer... I bring you to my senses in every opportunity, in every waking moment, I see you everywhere I go... your memory haunts me day and night... how am I supposed to live like that?"
He was out of words. What was he supposed to say? He didnt know that, he didnt know what he should feel, how to react. In some way, her words filled him with some kind of wicked pleasure. She had been thinking about him, she hadnt forgotten him, she actually missed him... but it was too obvious she resented that. She was angry because of that, she didnt like that, she didnt like to remember him, to think about him... and that really hurt. Crona tried to get up, to make some space between them, but Maka's hands quickly reached for him, holding into his hair, caressing his back, her legs pressed against his body between them. He remained kneeled before her, hands still on her sides, resting on her hips. He opened his mouth, trying to articulate a sentence, a word, any word, but words chocked on his throat.
"The only important promise I could ever make in this life is broken because of you..." She continued, her right hand gently traveling through his hair. The black thin elastic band holding it together was long gone, discarded somewhere in the room's floor. After a brief silence, the scythe meister moistened her lips with her tongue, emerald eyes staring straight at him, and words blurted out by their own weight, her soul seeking relief from all the secrets within. "I've turned into what I hate the most, and its all because of you... You make me wish I never met you..."
Her words cut through his heart, like a guillotine falling at full speed. The beating of it, against his chest, turned painful and erratic. Air was leaving his lungs, turning him pale, his stomach convulsing and twisting, revolted, leaving him with a stinging void inside him. His trembling hands held into her clothes, gripping the fabric and twisting it in fistfuls. Crona shook his head, bowing before her, shoulders shaking, and he tried with all his might to control himself. Dont cry... dont cry... he promised himself he wouldnt cry.
But tears came, hot and painful, choking him, punching the air out of him, and despite biting down his own lip, a whimper escaped his lips. He faintly heard a soft sound coming out of the scythe meister, an intake of breath, her hands staying still on his head and back, feeling his body shaking. Madness, as thick and strong as it was, sliding through his sanity like black slime, was still being held in place, barely. Tears, as pathetic and pointless as they were, were a sign of sanity. He wasnt broken, he was still aware, the pain was normal, it would pass... he tried to remember all that, Stein's teachings and mantras, to keep himself sane. Let it out, madness wouldnt come if he was sincere with himself and everyone around him, let it out...
"If I never met you I would be dead now..." He whimpered, his voice sounding broken and unsteady. He felt Maka tense against his arms, but he didnt care, he needed to speak his mind, no matter how confusing his ideas were for even himself. "If I never met you... I would have become a Kishin... and I would be dead... If I were dead then I wouldnt be suffering like now... if I were dead I wouldnt have known about all this pain... If I were a Kishin this feelings would be alien to me... should I regret meeting you then? I should... I should regret meeting you. You brought all this confusion, this pain and this horrible feelings to me..."
He didnt dare to look up and confront Maka's stare. He wasnt ready to meet her eyes, to see her, to find out what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Was she looking at him with pity? Contempt? was she hurting with his words? He knew how much she didnt like for him to talk bad about himself... but it was the truth. His hold on her clothes remained, but it loosened a bit, as the outburst of tears receded, his grip on her did as well. The swordsman took a deep breath, sniffling with his forehead against her stomach, arms and shoulders wary of her movements.
"Ragnarok said it to me... if I never met you... I would still be a puppet and life would be so much easier... I wouldnt need to deal with anything..." A shiver ran down his spine, and finally, after a brief silence, he forced himself to look up to her. Maka was staring at him with wide open eyes, glassy and slightly shaky, looking shocked and angry at the same time despite the thick darkness of the room. "But if I never met you... then I wouldnt know the beauty of a sunset, or the warmth of a smile, the tenderness of a caress... I wouldnt know your touch, and how safe I feel in your arms..."
Crona couldnt held Maka's stare for too long. Their wavelengths were erratic, her presence was turning overwhelming for him, almost painful. His soul had been trying to reach her with a maddening passion, but until now he had managed to avoid it. A resonance would just confuse them, it would make them feel a fake sense of belonging and he didnt want that. Holding back his need of feeling her soul, felt like restraining a drowning man from trying to reach shore. Taking a deep breath, Crona hid his face against her stomach again, his voice barely able to be heard.
"I rather die today... than keep on living without knowing you"
His words sealed the knot at the back of her throat. She sat there, at the edge of her bed, being held by her dearest closest friend, her secret, her sin. His arms, shaky and fearful, still managed to keep on holding her, fingers clawing at her clothes in fistfuls. The feeling of his breathing against her stomach tickled her, forcing her heart to race against her chest. Her blouse was damp with his tears, but that didn't matter to her. She had caused this, with her insecurities, with her doubt, with her lack of action, with her omission, she had caused this.
Her hands moved down to the swordsman, holding his head against her, hugging him in complete silence. He stiffened for a moment, but slowly relaxed against her arms. He would always do that, he would always flinch for a second before melting against her... and how much she loved that. Her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp and the back of his head, all the way to his back as far as her stretched arms would let her, and back again to his pink soft hair. He sighed, nuzzling slightly against her stomach, feeling his strong hands slowly unclenching themselves from her clothes, to tenderly travel behind her back, holding her, caressing her.
Maka bit down her lower lip, staring down at him, frowning. He was the cause of all the mess in her life. He was the cause of so much confusion, so much heartache, so much doubt. he was the reason why she could no longer resonate with her weapon partner, her husband. He was... he was...
Why?
Why would he, singlehandedly, manage to wreck the foundations of her whole life? How could he push her away from her most fierce values with just a smile? How could he summon her most deep restrained urges and desires? Even now, after all that was said and done, she knew... she damn knew. She said it to him, six months ago, how she didnt regret it. And she didnt, she didnt regret what happened between them, she didnt regret forcing him to talk to her about his feelings.
Wishing to have never met him, just because that way she wouldnt feel the way she was feeling, was as stupid as thinking Crona would like to go back to be a numb mindless killer. It hurt, a lot, but resigning the swordsman would mean to stop having that... him. Having him hugging her, seeing his smile, hearing his soft voice, enjoying his silly cute stutter and protecting him against Ragnarok. Was him... Crona... worth of all the shit she was going through?
Was he worth it?...
As the answer settled in her mind, she felt a thick cloud of smoke slowly vanishing from her mind. It was getting a lot clearer now, what she was feeling, why she was feeling it... and it was so obvious. So damn, painfully, stupidly obvious. Slowly, Maka leaned down on him, surrounding his head with her arms in a tight yet gentle hug. She felt him softly squeezing her waist with his arms, fingers moving up and down her lower back. She wanted to hold him like that forever. She wanted to slide down from the bed and fall on his arms, just to give him a proper hug, to feel his chest against her own, just to hold his face and kiss his soft warm lips in the thousand ways she had been daydreaming about for six months.
But she couldnt... not now, no the way things were... she had mauled his heart like a lion toying with a chew toy. He was broken in her arms and she had no idea how to amend her many mistakes. That was all she had been doing, over and over again, just one mistake after the other... how you start making it right again? She had invited him over with the mission in mind of finishing what they were having, for her sanity, for her marriage, for Crona's well being... but now she was painfully noticing that wouldnt be possible. She didnt want it to be over, she wanted more, so much more... but she wasnt ready to accept the consequences.
She was being a coward, and she knew that.
"Crona..." She whispered, calling for his attention, releasing his head from her hug. Suddenly, the swordsman looked up, scared.
"Please Maka! I cant stay away from you! Anything but that!" The sword meister pleaded, staring at her with desolated eyes. His hands, trembling, moved from her back to her arms, holding her hands tightly against his own.
Those eyes, those midnight dark eyes were filled with so much pain, so much hurt and hopelessness... she couldnt look at them. Knowing she was the cause of it was so much worse. She glanced away from him, ashamed and furious... with herself. How could she, the person that always would jump to his aid and protect him, be now the cause of his tears?
She was married. She made a promise... in health and sickness, forever. She made the same very promise she always scolded her papa for breaking it, and she now was doing the same. How you split apart your values from your desires? They not always fit together... she now knew that. How you put aside your wants from what is right? When do you decide which side to choose? How you know is the right choice!? She didnt know... did anyone know?
"We cant do this!" She scolded him, her hands quickly cupping his cheeks in her hands, bringing him closer to her. Maka stared at his dark eyes, seeing all the pain and confusion, a mirror to his soul, the soul she wanted to belong to so much. "I cant... I must not..."
"Please dont do this... please!" Crona pleaded, fully on his knees, joining both of his hands together, begging. "I'll take everything back! I wont write anything if you dont want me to! I wont get near you if you dont allow me to! But please... please!... Dont push me away..."
Maka didnt answer. Instead, she glanced away from him, her hands slowly releasing his face, leaving him pale and heartbroken in front of her. His words were painful. His presence was painful. Not having him was even worse. Being away from him was torture. Having him nearby without being able to hold him, kiss him, was torture. Being forced to pretend, and watch how others tried to take him away from her was hell. She was tired, of lying, of pretending, of faking a life she no longer belonged to. Above all... she was tired of fighting against her very heart and soul.
"You are my best friend... I need you... I dont want to lose that! Please!" Crona's voice, begging, raised barely enough to punctuate the desperation filling his being, was enough to make her snap.
"Dont you understand!?" Maka raises her own voice, reaching again to hold his face between her hands, desperate and demanding. "We can never go back! You think I can go back to hold you, hug you, when I know deep inside what I really want!?
Her breathing was quick, chest moving up and down hurriedly. Crona stared at her in confusion, wide open eyes not even blinking, fixed on her. The scythe meister got up from the bed, the sudden movement forcing the swordsman to move away from her, falling on his butt on the carpet. Maka stepped away from him, holding into her bedroom drawer for support. Clumsily, Crona got up from the floor, looking at her with the same pain filled confused stare.
"I cant have you near me and call you my friend anymore... I cant even look at you without feeling all this mess inside me... Its all over for us..." The scythe meister whispered, her words slow and controlled, and yet a dangerous tone was hidden underneath.
"Dont say that... please..." Crona begged, walking closer to her, eyes filled with tears and desperation.
"There is no going back!" Maka faced him, angry, raising her voice. "Did you really think we could go back to being friends after we almost fucked each other in the floor!? Did you!?"
Her words, merciless and sharp, stabbed the swordsman like a knife. He stared at her with a pale look on his face, eyes wide and hurt, mouth slightly parted. He stood there for a minute, in silence, before bowing slightly, shaking.
Maka bit down her lower lip, guilt and remorse filling her whole being. How? How you amend what has been broken beyond repair? How you start fixing a relationship that has been twisted, tangled, and trampled mercilessly? She had no answer for such questions, and she was tired. Tired of thinking, tired of planning, tired of restraining herself. She was impulsive, reckless, and no matter the years, she would always be like that. Let it be then, no more thinking...
"I told you it would change everything!" Crona complained, his voice raised, broken, hands tightly gripping each other against his chest. "I told you some truths were better to stay hidden! You cant make me pay that mistake with our friendship! you just cant! Is not fair!"
"FAIR!? I had the right to know about this six years ago! Not now! Where is fairness in that!?" Maka yelled back at him, the last drop of resentment, anger and doubt leaving her mind. Thats all she wanted to know... why now?
"I WANTED YOU TO BE HAPPY!" He screamed, staring at her harshly with his puffy dark eyes. His words forced her to remain silent, not answering him back right away.
The swordsman was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a rush, the air drying his throat making him gulp hardly, trying to recover his voice. Maka had no words to fight him back, so she stood there, in the middle of an almost pitch black room, barely illuminated by the street lamp lights, staring at him. Her silence seemed to ease him, his accelerated breathing going down slowly, his aggressive posture breaking down into his usual hunched form. The sword meister bowed his head, lifting up his own arms to hug himself, looking desolated.
"I wanted you to have a normal happy life... A life I could never give you. You would never be happy with me..." He said, his voice soft and barely audible, a mere whisper thrown into the night.
Maka walked towards him, silently and calm, hands reaching up to hold him against her into the tightest hug she had given him in months. She heard him gasp, his arms trapped between their bodies, unable to hold her back. The scythe meister stood there for a moment, closing her eyes tightly, leaving her decisions to the reason of her very soul. She was tired of running, no more...
"How can you know what would make me happy... when I dont know it myself?" The blonde meister whispers, holding into him for dear life, her face pressed against his chest. Right there she noticed just how much she was missing his touch, his hugs, his warmth and his smell.
She wanted him to hold her, to kiss her, to take her in his arms and love her with the same passion she felt that night, six months ago. She wanted to go back to that moment, live out the daydreaming she had been suffering for months and never return to reality. But reality didnt work that way... her reality was that dark room, all the tangled feelings, the hardship. Reality was Crona's feelings towards her, her own tangled in a knot, and how she was running away from them.
No more running.
"How... how can we stay friends when all I want is for you to hold me? How can we remain friends when all I think about is kissing you? Having you?" She whispered close to him, too close, hands traveling up his body to cup his face in her palms, lifting up her gaze to stare into his confused teary eyes. "How can we stay friends if when I'm with my husband, I wish to be with you?..."
Crona listened to her in silence, his hands doubtfully untangling from his iron grasp against his own arms, reaching up to hold her in a shaky insecure hug. She dived into the tight embrace, cheek resting against his chest, feeling his quickened breathing and his rushing heart. That soft yet firm chest she had rested her head on so many times. The same chest that witch stained with her touch in the party. Now she knew... she could never live knowing someone else could be shoving their sticky hands on him. No one could touch him, he was hers, and she... and she...
"There is no going back... You cant be just my friend anymore..."
"Please dont say that..." He whimpered, his voice hoarse, sounding desperate. She lifted up her gaze again towards him, smiling softly at him while shaking her head. Her thumbs traveled through his cheek to his mouth, gently pressing them against his lips, caressing the soft flesh, keeping him quiet.
Her hands gently pulled him closer to her, making him lower his face towards her. Softly, she pressed her forehead against his, feeling the damp skin against her own. The tip of their noses were almost touching, and his breath tickled her lips. Her heart started to rush against her chest again, hands tickling in anticipation, blood flooding her face, warming up her whole being before pooling below her waist. This feeling, this dangerous sensation, she knew what it was, and the back of her mind was screaming for her to get away, to push him away. But her mind was no longer in control, all of her reason had now been taken by her heart, and her heart was reckless, passionate and too proud to escape any threat.
She was tired of running away.
"I dont want you as a friend... I dont want you to hold hands... I dont want you sending me letters..." Maka whispered against his lips, so close she could almost savor his taste. She wanted to have him, to taste him, bite him and claim him. She wanted it all. "I want you to love me..."
Crona stared back at her with wide open eyes, eyes that seemed to understand her words, her motives, and all her silent explanation. It wasnt as if he could get sudden magical powers to understand her, it wasnt as if all of his doubt could be swiped with those words... It was her soul wavelength, unrestrained, powerful and mighty, hurriedly seeking his own, begging for a desperately needed resonance. A gasp escaped his mouth, feeling Maka's soft lips brushing against his own, and through his eyes she knew he had no doubts in his mind... not anymore.
"I love you..." He growled through closed teeth, the words coming out slowly and painfully, like a heavy secret he was tired of holding. "I love you..."
"Show me..." She whispered against his lips, before claiming them with her own in a fierce demanding kiss. As her tongue dived inside his mouth, seeking for him, she felt the sheer power of his wavelength merging with her own. Their joined souls, thrusting back and forth their equally powerful feelings amplified by each other, were too overwhelming to fight them back.
She was kissing him, in her own apartment, in her very bedroom, and she couldnt stop herself. She didnt want to either, as her hands grasped his pink hair in tight fistfuls, she knew there was no going back. His wavelength, unleashed like a frustrated caged tiger, was now mauling her own soul in a scorching fire of need... and her mind went blank. Every thought, every worry, every sense of doubt or remorse vanished like drops of water in the sea. There was no doubt, no fear... only the emotions of need, of want, of... love.
"Maka..." The swordsman gasped through their joined mouths, his arms enveloping her against his body, hands firmly holding her tight by her back and waist. She didnt answer him, she had no spare breath to do so, instead she tried to get closer to him.
She pushed herself against him, feeling him backing off until his rear hit the dresser of the room, the sound of falling bottles and crystal perfumes tilting over vaguely reminding her of her surroundings. The pitch black room didnt help them to be careful either, as they couldnt see a thing... but it didn't matter. They didnt need their eyes, when they had their hands, scent and soul.
She didnt need light to picture him. His blushed cheeks, that deep hazed look in his dark eyes, his trembling hands holding her so tightly. Her fingers, tangled in his pink mane, forced him closer to her. He was too tall, and she had to stand on tip toes to reach him, forcing him to bend over her. Despite how good it felt, it was quite tiresome.
Suddenly, a pair of strong hands went all the way down to her rear, tearing off a gasp from her mouth. Crona's trembling fingers dug on her flesh, and in one firm movement he lifted her from the floor, forcing her to cling to his neck, surprised, hugging him by his waist with her thighs. The swordsman turned over his heels with the scythe meister in his arms, placing her on top of the dresser. She felt unbearable heat rising through her cheeks, pooling below her waist, arousal dampening her underwear. The blonde meister was out of words, as she felt him fixing himself between her legs, her position now perfectly aligned in height with the swordsman.
He really had no dark undertones in his actions, she knew that much by the waves of his soul. He sincerely just wanted a more comfortable position to kiss her, to hold her, to be closer to her... but was he really thinking what he was doing? Absolutely not, and neither was she. She just cared about how good it felt, how liberating, how warm and wet it was... and how much it wasnt enough.
They joined their lips together in a fierce almost violent kiss, too out of character for both of them... or wasnt it? It was hard to tell, as she bit down his lower lip, forcing him to gasp and open his mouth, allowing her to dive her tongue inside him. He trembled in her arms, and she loved it, she needed more. His mouth was warm and wet, his shy tongue barely keeping up with her demanding urges. Maka's hand gripped tighter on his hair, pulling from it slightly, and the swordsman growled in excitement. His little sounds, his gasps and soft moans, all were igniting her whole body like a wildfire. She needed more of that, so much more.
"M-Maka..." He grunted, his voice sounding husky, hands reaching up to her face, holding her cheeks. He wanted to tell her something, but he didnt have to, she knew... she knew it all, she had his very soul merged with her own.
"Do it..." She urged him, both of their lips parting from each other just barely enough to talk. Her hands gripped and pulled on his hair, ruffling the long pink locks between her fingers, his grunts and hiss of pleasure driving her crazy.
He was so vocal. Every action of her hands and her lips forced a reaction from him. A small gasp, a moan, a low growl, and all of it was followed with a body reaction. A little shiver, a jump, a shudder, he reacted to all and every single action of her, and she loved it. His hands, holding her by her cheeks, slithered down her body to her waist, pulling her closer. She accepted him, and even encouraged him, using her legs around his hips to pull him closer to her. The swordsman shivered in her arms, lips moving down through her jaw to her neck, where he took a hold of her with his mouth.
She gasped, her hands tightening her grip on his hair, closing her eyes tightly as his tongue softly licked her sensitive skin. His teeth nibbled her neck, gentle sucks at the base of it forcing her to bit down her lower lip. She tightened her grasp on him with her legs, and the sword meister obliged dutifully to her demands, his hands on her waist pulling her closer to him. Their hips met, and the remaining strands of reason abandoned their minds as Maka acknowledged his arousal, pulsing against her.
The room was too warm, their bodies were too hot, and there was too much clothes between them. Their shared resonance, guided by the unrestrained passion of their hearts, left no place for doubt or second guessing. Crona's hands slid down her blouse, his rough palms meeting Maka's warm naked skin below, his fingers greedily digging on her flesh. She choked a moan on her throat, the restrained vocals of pleasure vibrating on her neck, inciting her lover to increase his dedicated kisses on it. He was going to leave a mark, he was branding her as his, and she had no will power to stop him.
"C-Crona..." She called his name, hands releasing his hair to move down through his body. Her fingers followed the outline of his sharp shoulders, around through his tense back and up front to his hard chest. She laid her palm on top of his pectorals, feeling his heart below, rushed and agitated.
The swordsman hummed in response, finally releasing her neck just to move to the other side of it, preparing her skin with soft licking before digging his teeth on her, ripping another moan from her lips. His hands moved up on her back, caressing her naked flesh below her blouse, his fingertips feeling the elastin band of her bra. Crona frowned a little, a sudden intrusive thought popping on his mind... to take it off. He hesitated, unsure of why such thought would so unceremoniously assault him, until he found out the source. It was Maka, silently wishing for him to do it. He was feeling how heat rose through his body and all the way to his face, as his fingers clumsily unfastened her bra. She shivered in his arms, hands going up to hold him by his face, reaching for his lips in a deep mind wrecking kiss.
Trembling hands slowly moved from her back to her waist. Despite that odd kind of madness, numbing his brain from every rational thought, he was still self-conscious. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do, he knew what she wanted him to do, and his reasoning was completely out of the game to stop himself. His long fingers traced the soft muscles of her stomach, his left thumb drawing circles around her navel, gasping between their joined lips for courage. His agitated breath was making him dizzy, forcing him to stop the urged kiss and move back down to her neck, where he could regain his breath while keep on delivering the soft caresses on her skin. Her hands went back to his chest, skillfully unbuttoning his black coat, rushing to lift up his white long neck shirt below and touch his naked skin.
That need, that security, was all he needed to hold his breath, while his hands moved up from her stomach to her breasts. His left hand shyly met the tender sensitive skin, warm and soft, filling the palm of his hand with ease. They were not too small but not big either... just perfect. She shivered under his touch, biting down her lips, thighs tensing around his wide hips. His thumb slowly started to draw circles around her nipple, feeling how it stiffed with his touch. Maka was heavily trembling in his arms, and he could do nothing but move his free right hand down to her hip, keeping her close to him so she wouldnt fall from the wooden furniture.
For Maka it was getting hard to breathe. She felt light headed, the trembling of her body being almost uncontrollable, it was too much... and still not enough. Her mind was clouded with wishful desire, with vivid daydreaming, with passionate madness. Both of her hands were clawing on his chest, deep under his clothes, fingertips tracing the muscles of his pectorals and down to his tense stomach. His skin was warm and soft... until her fingertips met the traces of rough tissue. She held her breath, her thumbs following that mark... traces of a scar. She didnt need to see to know where he got that scar, he almost died that day. He gave his life for her, knowing he couldnt harden his blood, knowing the blow would most certainly kill him. He gave her his life, he gave her his heart, he had given her so much... and still wasn't enough for her. She wanted more, she wanted it all.
Without a word, Maka pushed Crona away from her, softly but firmly. He obliged, his breathing agitated, gasping. Despite the pitch black darkness of the room, she could still see his confused face, but it lasted just a moment. Her soul, pulling him into her mind, helped him to understand what she wanted. As the scythe meister jumped off the wooden dresser, she pulled the swordsman with her, guiding him to the bed a couple steps away from them. He said nothing, too shocked for words, too aroused for reasoning, he did nothing but follow her suit, seeing her laying on her back on the edge of bed, waiting for him.
Shivering with the overwhelming alien feelings of desire and need, he climbed to the bed, guided by the blonde's hands who pulled him on top of her. Her legs trapped him between them, hands moving up to his face, cupping his cheeks. A more soft, tender kiss followed between them, easing his fear and filling him with that wonderful bliss, that strange unknown madness he was unable to fight. She was always so soft, she always tasted so nice, her wet tongue licking his lower lip forced a moan out of him, making her giggle. Their clothes were messy and undone, but none of them had done the first step of completely take it off. Hesitantly, he supported his weight with his left elbow, his right hand moving down her body to the edge of her messy blouse, sliding through it to get a hold of her breast. She arched her back, hands moving up to his shoulders, gripping on him with her nails. It had seemed like a pain reaction, but he knew it was pleasure, he felt it in her soul.
"I love you..." He whispered against her lips, feeling her hands moving from his shoulders to his hair, gripping into him for dear life. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against her own. "My angel... my goddess... my sunlight"
"Crona..." The blonde meister whispered back, her voice faltering. She was feeling the stinging warmth of tears at the back of her eyes, but she restrained, she didnt want to worry him. Instead, she secured her hold on his waist with her legs, pushing him down on her with her heels, choking a moan in her throat when his arousal met her own.
"I'm yours..." He softly groaned in her ear, his right hand softly squeezing and rubbing her tender perky breasts. His teeth found her earlobe, a fang teasingly nibbling on it. "Let me give you my life..."
"Give it to me..." She said, her voice low and husky, arching her back once again when the sword meister leaned down on her, kissing her throat. Their voices sound odd and so far away in her head, like fading in fog, yet every word resonated in her soul like thunder, loud and clear like whispers in the night.
In a sudden rush of courage and desperation, Maka released his hair to move down her hand, caressing his chest, sliding down his body to the center of his aching need. She had him in her hands before, so long ago it seemed, but her firm touch still forced a chocked gasp out of his throat. Her palm rubbed him above the thick layers of cloth, the feeling of him, hard and hot, throbbing against her touch, gave her a wicked sense of power. Despite her trembling hands, she managed to unbuckle his belt, hastily opening his pants.
Maybe it was Crona holding his breath, maybe it was the quiet night, or how late it was. Maybe it was her rushed silent gasps for air, maybe it was the shared arousal making them hypersensitive to every touch, reactive to every little sound. Maybe it was their subconscious, still aware of their sinful doings despite the thick madness of passion clouding their minds. Maybe it was paranoia, but both heard the faint sound of keys fighting against a door knob, followed by the sound of a screeching door.
"Maka I'm home..." Soul's voice resonated in the apartment's entrance, turning both Maka and Crona's blood ice cold.
The bedroom door was opened, they never closed it. Darkness was hiding them, but it was matter of seconds before Soul turned on the apartment's lights. Both meisters jumped out of bed, clothes undone and messed up, both too frightened to think straight, both trapped in a room with no way out.
"The bathroom! Now!" Ragnarok's voice hissed inside Crona, forcing a painful cramp on his left side. He bit down his lip, chocking a hiss of pain, but that was enough to make him snap out of his shock.
In quick silent movements, the swordsman grasped on Maka's wrist, dragging her with him inside the bathroom, locking the door closed behind them. Pitch black, he clumsily tapped the walls with the palm of his hand until he found a switch, turning on the lights.
The bathroom was small, yet nicely decorated with the basics. A sink, the toilet, a shower, and a small window for ventilation. They were trapped. His icy blue eyes, frightened, searched for the scythe meister, standing beside him. She was pale, almost at the verge of tears, clumsily trying to fix her clothes. She had more than a pair of red bruises in her neck. Her hands were trembling.
"Maka! Where are you?" Soul's voice called for her, sounding too close. He was inside the bedroom. The scythe meister swallowed hard, trying to clear her dry throat.
"G... Give me a second!" She yelled, despite her best efforts to sound normal, her voice came out loud and desperate.
"Jeez sorry! I didnt mean to interrupt you" The demon scythe growled, his footsteps indicating them he was moving out of the bedroom... then he stopped. "... is everything okay?"
"just give me a moment!" Maka said behind the door, her trembling hands barely able to fix her bra back in place. Without another exchange of words, they heard Soul's footsteps finally leaving the bedroom.
How was Crona not at the edge of a panic attack? Because he was too worried watching Maka having one herself. She was pale, trembling uncontrollably, eyes unfocused and shaky. He had never seen her like that before. After quickly fixing his own clothes, the swordsman rushed to hold Maka in his arms, trying to comfort her. She grasped him tightly, terrified.
"He cant find out... not like this... I cant do this to him... not like this..." She whispered to him, hiding her face in his chest.
The swordsman remained silent, just as scared as her, holding her tight against him. His hands moved up to her loose hair, fingers brushing the soft golden locks, one hand moving down to caress her back in up an down movements, trying to soothe her. Usually it would be her who would need to calm him down, it felt so odd being on the other side of the coin now. But, could he complain? No, he was not the one in threat of losing everything... not anymore.
Soul didnt deserve to know like that. Soul hadnt done anything to deserve it. If there was a true victim in that situation, it was the demon scythe. Crona wasnt blind to that matter, and he wasnt numb to his own feelings. Soul was his friend, he didnt want to hurt him...
But his desire for Maka was a lot stronger than his friendship with the scythe. It was a true horrible thing to think. It would be even more horrifying to say it out loud... but it was the truth. Such feeling made him feel sick, and if he was feeling so much remorse in that situation... he didnt want to dig into Maka's feelings in that matter. Their resonance was now lost, the frightening situation forced them out of focus, and now they just were two meister holding each other, trapped in what seemed a situation with no way out.
Soul was going to find out that night...
"What are we going to do?" Maka asked in a faint whisper, lifting up her gaze to him. Her emerald eyes, scared and desperate, were so unlike her. She always looked so sure of herself, so proud and carefree... it was rare for him seeing her vulnerable. Crona didnt answer her, holding her close to him.
"Window!" The high-pitched voice of his weapon partner, talking inside him, made him blink with a frown. The window?
His blue eyes glanced towards the vent of the bathroom. It was so small, probably barely 20 centimeters tall and twice as large. Yes he was very thin, but he wasnt sure even his head could pass through it. Then how...
His eyes opened wide, the answer reaching up to his mind without the need of one of Ragnarok's acid remarks. It was so simple, that he couldnt help but sigh with relief. Maka frowned in his chest, looking up to him again, questioning him with her eyes. He gave her a soft smile, his hands moving from her hair to cup her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. Should he ask? He should... but after what they have done more than a couple times...
He leaned on her, searching for a kiss she accepted without flinching. Their lips met in a gentle caress, quiet and simple, but meaningful. That soft link between their bodies and soul calmed them down at the same time, focusing on what mattered the most in that moment... them. After a minute that felt like frozen in time, they parted, emerald eyes staring up to midnight dark. Just like that... everything was okay.
"He wont know..." He whispered to her, his hands releasing her cheeks to search for her hands. The swordsman held her with his own, lifting up her hands close to his face, softly kissing her knuckles. He loved her hands, always warm, always ready to touch him and hold him. If he could, he would stay with her, that night and every night...
But he had to leave.
Finally releasing the meister, Crona stepped away a couple feet, stretching both of his hands in front of him. His long elegant fingers curled in what seemed to be an imitation of jaws, his lips whispering a chant... then a cloud of black smoke made him vanish. Maka's surprised eyes looked down to the floor, staring at the male witch's animal form. The little Gila monster, black with pink stripes, stared back at her with large blue eyes, before pointing out with his claw at the window. She understood right away.
Reaching up to him, she took Crona in her hands, holding him tight against her chest. The lizard nuzzled against her, its snout burying in her chest, trying to comfort her. It pained him leaving her like that, but he couldnt stay. There were no goodbye words, they didnt need them. Maka lifted him until he managed to reach the window, his large claws gripping on the edge and sliding through it with ease. With just a quick glance between them, Crona vanished in the darkness of the night.
Maka held herself. Now alone, she felt the stab of remorse digging into her heart. It was a cold, sticky, unpleasant feeling she wanted to shake off. With a heavy sigh, she walked towards the mirror of the sink, staring down at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, but what made her stomach twist was the sight of many red love marks that surely would look like bruises in the morning. She fucked up.
She couldnt let Soul see her like that, in such state. She didnt want to see him, feeling that way. Her weapon partner didnt deserve to know in that way, it would be too cruel... he was innocent of what was happening.
Taking a deep breath, the scythe meister started to undress herself, taking off all of her wrinkled messed clothes, hastily throwing them in the laundry basket. She had to take a bath, unsure if it was her imagination, or indeed she had Crona's scent all over her body. How could she face Soul, if she still felt worked up by the swordsman?
Stepping on the shower, Maka opened the hot water, as hot as she could stand it. As the stream of steamy water covered her body, her heart ached with the memory of her dearest friend's lips against her own, his hands caressing her flesh, holding her tight. The scorching feeling of him in her hands, against her, on top of her, so close to her... her dear friend, her lover. Even now, as her hands traveled across her own body, the guilt of her betrayal got out-weighted by the memory of him, loving her. Her fingers slowly slid across her body, through her still stiff nipples and stomach, all the way down to the cavity between her legs. Her fingers met those slightly swollen folds, feeling the sticky arousal in them. He did that to her, and she allowed it to happen.
There was no way back.
She could never go back.
AkireRosales: *grinning like the cat who got the milk* I dont know... I kinda liked this chapter, what about you guys?
Let me know in the reviews!
