Whispers

by Akire Rosales

Its been 10 years since the fight with Asura. Maka made her own life outside America, writting her happy ending with her husband, Soul. She has a good job, a nice married life, and keeps in touch with her friends... Why is she feeling so miserable then? Something is missing, and she knows what it is, she notices it everytime the letters of certain swordsman arrive in her mail.

22. Eclipse

AkireRosales: Seven years ago on May 13 I started writing this fic... thank you all for following this far. Enjoy!

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Whispers

Chapter 22:

Eclipse

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins.

There's no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.

In the madness and soil of this sad earthly scene...

Only then I am human.

Only then I am clean.

Ohhh... Ohhh!

AMEN!

Amen!

Amen..."

He loved the view.

Shibusen's location, standing tall in the middle of the city like a bastion of justice and balance, was perfect in his eyes. The view, so bright and filled with joy, hope, and other foreign feelings to him, tended to get overwhelming after a while... but he was learning to deal with it. It had been a year since the death of his mother, Lady Medusa, and he was barely getting a hang on what "normal emotions" were about. It was okay to feel overwhelmed, specially if he wasnt used to certain feelings, but there was no reason to panic... feelings were okay, feeling was okay.

It was so odd... feeling something beside despair and emptiness. Sometimes the feelings would get too much to bare, and he had to recluse himself for days in his small cell, just to cope. He could deal with anxiety, he was used to it, he lived with it all his life. He could deal with fear, pain, sadness and confusion... but recently he had found out he had been dealing with them in the "wrong way". It was wrong to kill things that caused him such emotions, it was wrong to try and numb himself to deal with them, it was wrong to run away from them...

He had to be brave and face them, just in the same way he had to face another set of emotion that were completely alien for him. Joy, happiness, hopefulness... care... those feelings were absolutely overwhelming. He was not used to them at all, they were foreign to him, and feeling them would usually trigger a mild event of anxiety after a while. Professor Stein told him it was a completely normal behavior after what he called a "traumatic neglectful childhood" or something like that.

He was not normal, that was obvious. He was sick... Professor Stein pointed that out many times. Sick inside his mind, like the scars in his body, he had scars in his mind as well... imaginary scars that would never heal. Just like the occasional sore sensation in his right arm, the scars of his mind would sometimes trigger an anxiety event, a panic fit, a madness outbreak... He had to learn to cope with that, learn to notice them and learn how to control them. He had to find things, objects and events that would help to ease his mind and regain control of his emotions.

Maka was the only "thing" that popped into his mind for that matter.

He couldnt explain himself why or how. He asked Professor Stein about it, and although he had many theories, all around her anti-demon wavelength and something about "soul affinity", he wasnt sure either. No matter why, Crona knew very well Maka was the easy fix to every problem in his life. Feeling lonely? Maka. Feeling anxious? Maka. Feeling at the edge of that deep abyss of madness clawing into his flesh, trying to swallow him whole? Definitely Maka.

But he couldnt have a daily constant dose of Maka, at all times. She had a life of her own, and he dreaded the thought of being "too clingy" as Liz called him once. Apparently searching for her in every occasion was bad, or at least "not cool", and that was pretty bad according to Soul. Instead, after giving it a lot of thought, he decided he needed "Maka supplements". Anything that could substitute the feelings the scythe meister could summon into his soul, anything that could at least mildly relax him in the way she could. It wasnt as effective, but it helped.

The soothing sound of soft rain against grass. The astonishing mysticism of a rainbow high in the sky. The beauty of a sunset. The warmth of the sun on his skin. Many events that would remind him of her, those were his supplements.

Like that moment, when the well known grey cloud would appear on top of his head, he knew he had to find a way to shook it off before it managed to settle. Thats why he was there, sitting at the edge of Shibusen's balcony at evening, when no one else was around. The sunset would start soon and the warmth of the fire giant above his head, slowly snoozing off, was so soothing for him. He got stressed out after hearing the plans of his friends for the upcoming Shibusen's party. The anniversary of the Kishin's defeat, everyone would be celebrating the deed for the first time and they wanted to make special thanks to everyone that played a mayor role into it. Maka and Soul were preparing their speech, and the scythe meister had pushed him into writing one himself... after all, he was the one with the plan of trapping the Kishin with his own blood using the brew.

He just stood there filled with anxiety just thinking he had to write something everyone would hear, until Kid stepped over and told them he wasnt allowed to participate so actively. Maka got completely livid, trying to defend him, but Crona understood Kid's perspective. He was an outcast, expelled from the school, he wasnt allowed to go to any missions and much less have any recognition from Shibusen. He would never be a legal meister, he would never go into kishin hunting, he would never graduate and he would never be able to turn Ragnarok into a Death Scythe. He told Maka it was okay, but the scythe meister went into a full blown up rage against the Death God, yelling over and over again that it wasnt fair. Well, for Crona it was fair... he hurt a lot of people, just being allowed to live inside the school was too much to be grateful for already.

Soul told him to leave Maka alone, while he tried to stop his meister from choking Kid. It was a subtle way for the scythe to tell him his presence was bothersome, and Crona understood right away. Maka would calm down faster if she wasnt actively trying to protect him, like she always does. Knowing he was causing her so much trouble filled him with worry, seeing Liz and Patty arguing with Kid as well just for him was equally as anguishing. He didnt want his friends to argue over him, he didnt want Maka fighting with Kid for something as meaningless. He didnt need recognition, he didnt want it... how could he even step up in front the whole school, with the nickname he already had?

The Traitor... thats how everyone called him. It was okay... it wasnt a lie. It hurt, yes, but... they weren't lying. He was grateful, just being able to stay in school, close to his friends, close to Maka.

"Crona?" A soft voice made him jump on his spot, the swordsman glancing over his shoulder just to notice said scythe meister, looking back at him. "I've been looking for you all over the school"

"S-Sorry..." He whispered, lowering down his stare, dark eyes looking back to the horizon where the sunset would start in any minute. Strong secure footsteps walked towards him, making him feel a shiver of delightful anticipation. She was getting close to him.

"Can I join you?" The blonde asked with a smile, leaning over him so she could see his face. He blushed.

"S-S-Sure M-Maka... T-That w-would be n-nice..." He stuttered, watching how the meister quickly jumped on the balcony, sitting next to him, just an arm of distance away.

He took a deep breath, trying not to focus too much on her, on the sweet scent of her hair, or her shiny emerald eyes. He tried really hard not to stare, since Soul caught him once and told him it was rude to do so. Instead, the swordsman focused his eyes on the horizon, his left hand moving up to squeeze his right arm, seeking for self-comfort.

"Why you left?" Maka's soft voice forced him to move his eyes towards her, midnight dark meeting emerald green. She was smiling at him, but he knew better... he could notice that subtle tone of worry and sadness in her eyes.

"I... I didnt want to... I..." He tried to explain, but words crammed inside his throat. Why it was so hard to talk when she was around? "I didnt want you to be angry... I-I thought I s-should leave you alone..."

"And how you leaving would make me less angry?" The scythe meister scolded him, a small frown showing on her face. "I wanted you to stay so Kid could apologize for all he said"

"T-There is n-no need, Maka... I-It d-doesnt bother me, really..." The swordsman tried to soothe his friend's sour mood, but the frown on her face deepened. He squeaked, scared.

"It bothers me" She stated, her eyes showing that fire in her soul he liked so much. "Kid should be doing more to clean your name, the whole world owes you their lives and yet people still dare to call you-"

"A traitor?" Crona interrupted her, and unlike her, his face showed a resigned calm. He shook his head slowly. "Its okay... I d-dont mind..."

"Dont lie to me Crona, I know it hurts you, I feel it inside you" The scythe meister slid closer to him, just enough for her hand to reach him.

The palm of her right hand rested on his arm, tugging from it slightly, forcing him to stop grabbing his right arm and let her take his left hand between her own. The softness of her skin, her warmth and their intertwined fingers, forced him to swallow hard and take a deep breath. His heartbeat quickened, and a shiver ran down his spine when Maka's thumb softly caressed his rough palm. It had been a year since she released him from his mother's grasp, and he still couldnt deal with the new feelings she could summon within himself. They were normal, he had to remember that, they weren't weird... thats how a friendship was supposed to feel.

Why he could only feel it with Maka then?

He took a deep breath, dark eyes sliding from her stare to the view in front of them. The sun was still hanging in there, drooling slightly, slowly falling asleep. The swordsman slowly returned the scythe meister's caresses, his thumb rubbing softly against the warm skin of her hand. He felt her stiffening with his touch, but before he could start getting worried about it, she squeezed his hand in approval. It was okay.

"P-People call me Shibusen's Demon, The Black Dragon, The Traitor, M-M-Medusa's Child... A Monster... t-thats okay. They're not lying... thats what I am..." He said in a low tone of voice, fearful of expressing his thoughts, knowing how much Maka disliked hearing him talking bad about himself. Even without looking at her, he knew she had now a deep frown in her face. He moistened his lips, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I-It hurts... b-but because I'm afraid... I-I'm afraid you f-finally notice they're right, I'm afraid of you thinking the same one day... and you leave me..."

The blonde meister's silence was anguishing, but feeling how she stopped holding his hand, recoiling from his grasp, was unbearably painful. He didnt dare to look at her, much less talk any further. It was too hard to express himself, even with her, and talking about the deep worries hidden inside his soul was nerve-wrecking. After a few seconds that felt like whole unending minutes, he felt a soft thud on his skull. Blinking a couple times, he dared to glance at Maka. She had poked him with her book, frowning at him with a disapproving look on her face.

"What makes you think I could ever leave you, silly?" She scolded him, taking the book away so she could hold into his hand again. She moved a little closer to him, both of their shoulders almost touching. "I dont give a rat's ass what stupid people think about you. If they could get to know you the way I do, everyone would love you"

Her words, sincere and so open, forced him to look at her with a confused yet hopeful stare. Her words, for him, were holy. Nothing mattered but her wishes, her views and her demands. In that very moment, the swordsman noticed that if she asked him to retrieve a piece of the moon, he would dive inside that black blood sphere of madness just to please her. Professor Stein once told him to be careful with such desires, because it was normal for a "slave's psyche" to search for a new master. He had the psyche of a slave, it was part of his mind's sickness, but this was different... somehow. He didnt feel pressured to please her, he just wanted to... just to make her happy, just to see her smile, he would do anything just to see those emerald eyes shine.

"I-I d-dont need everyone to do that... I just want you..." He said, deep in thought, hypnotized by her warm meaningful stare, just to notice seconds before what he had said.

Maka's fair features turned deep red, and she moved slightly away from him, looking at him with a confused frown. Oh god he did it, he said something weird and Maka was freaking out over it. He felt like fainting, not sure how he had messed up, or if saying that was odd for a friend, if it was clingy or just plain out wrong. The scythe meister kept that confused look on her face, a deep blush on her cheeks, and she slowly released his hand. Oh god he really messed up.

"I-Is is it weird? D-Did I say something w-wrong? I-I'm sorry! I-I d-dont know how to explain it! Y-you're v-very important to me, t-thats what I meant!" Crona stuttered, trying to amend himself from anything he said out of place, but apparently it wasnt helping. He didnt want her to think bad about him. "W-What I m-mean is... Y-you're my friend and I c-care of what you think!"

"Its okay Crona, really... I understand" Maka said with half a smile, rising up her hand to hold him by his shoulder, trying to soothe him. The confusion was still in her eyes, that blush on her cheeks slowly draining off, leaving her with a weird undecipherable look on her face. She looked deep in thought, emerald eyes looking at the sunset in front of them.

The swordsman frowned with worry at her face. What was she thinking? He had no idea, but apparently his words did upset her at least a little. He didnt mean to, really, but it was hard to express himself about feelings he didnt quite understand. How you tell someone how much you care about them? How you tell someone so important how much you need them? He wanted to tell her she meant the whole world for him, He wanted to tell her he would give his very life away so she could be happy... but everytime he tried to do so, words would choke on his throat, and come out in weird phrases that made the scythe meister look uncomfortable. He should really stop doing that, or at least talk about it with Soul, maybe he could give him an advice. After all, no one knew the blonde meister better than him.

"Ey... where do you see yourself in ten years?" Maka's sudden voice made him jump in his spot, dragging him out of his own thoughts. He blinked a couple times, confused. She had that large smile on her face again, the uncomfortable look on her face long gone.

"In ten years?... w-what do you mean?" He asked back, tilting his head slightly, making her chuckle.

"Yeah! For example... In ten years I see myself as a world renown meister, solving difficult cases and helping people everywhere I go." Maka grinned, her legs moving back and forth at the edge of the balcony, giving playful kicks in the air. She looked like a little girl having fun. "What about you?"

"Uhm... I n-never thought about it..." He said, thoughtful, dark eyes looking at the horizon in front of them. The sun was barely able to be seen, almost gone, painting the sky with shades of red, orange and dark blue.

He always thought he would be dead, but of course there was no way he would tell her that. It wasnt like that anymore... he actually had now the chance of a life, thanks to her. He never planned to do anything with that life, a life that just a year before didnt belong to him... what was he supposed to do?

He had been expelled from Shibusen. That not only discarded any chance of making a meister related work, but it was also a very large black spot on his life resume. No one would ever hire a Shibusen expelled student, much less one with such a bad record. What else there was for him? Professor Stein told him once he could learn a skill and work independently, but his own secluded childhood had turned him into a useless handicap with pretty much no skill besides fighting or killing. Even if he was still going to class, making exams and what not... it was meaningless. And really, the only reason he was still going to every class, and doing every homework, reading every school book, was just to be close to Maka.

That was everything that mattered to him.

"In ten years... I just wish to be with you" He said in an unusual clear voice, his deep dark eyes looking forward to the dying sunset. Silence followed his words, forcing him to search for Maka's face. She wasnt looking at him, instead, she was glancing down to the abyss below them, deep in thought.

"... In what way?" She asked softly, barely a whisper, her eyes lost in the city that extended under their feet. Again that strange face, that unreadable thoughts, what was she thinking? He would like to know.

"Uhm... like this? Being with me... still being my friend..." Crona explained, midnight dark eyes staring at Maka and how her emerald eyes where glistening with an odd feeling he couldnt quite recognize. She still wasnt looking at him. "Is just that... I cant imagine a future without you"

"Crona..." Maka whispered, her emerald eyes glancing towards him. Her right hand searched for his own, holding him in a tight grasp. She was so close, he could actually smell the sweet scent of her hair, filling him with a warm pleasant feeling. The meister seemed to lean closer to him, and by instinct, he tried to get closer as well, his dark eyes fixed on her soft features, on her deep green eyes that were holding a foreign unknown feeling into them. How much he loved to just look at her... she was so beautiful.

Maka closed her eyes, tightly, and retreated from him. She didnt drop the tight grasp on his hand, or scooted away, she just... retreated. It was odd, Crona didnt even notice they were so close, but he could understand it could feel weird. He was feeling very weird actually, like a tickling running up and down his whole body, his heartbeat slightly accelerated. What was that?

The scythe meister took a deep breath, and just like that, she seemed to be back to her usual self, that odd look on her eyes long gone.

"I promise you... I will always be with you" Maka's words, soft and gentle, resonated into his soul like thunder. How?.. how could she always manage to say what he wanted and needed to hear? How?

"Y-You promise?" Crona asked, astonished, wide open dark eyes staring at her with hopefulness. She smiled at him, nodding with her head. "Y-you really promise?"

"I really really promise" She nodded again, releasing his hand just to open her arms and squeeze his lanky body in a tight hug. How? How could she make him so happy with such simple words? How could she fix his whole word with just a hug?

He didnt deserve her.

---

He truly didnt deserve her.

That memory, long lost in time, had popped to his mind just recently. She promised... didnt she? She promised to always be with him... what happened? Oh yeah, she started dating Soul a couple years later. Of course, it had to be that way, it was meant to be, he really never got a chance. If only he could have made things differently, if only he had known back then what he knew now, if only he had been more mature, wiser, or even a little bit more wary and not so ignorant about feelings and emotions... if only.

But the past cant be changed, its done, thinking about it only brings pain and regret. What there was to learn about the past? Even if he knew now... it was useless. Really, what was he doing? Lying to himself thinking he could have her, believing for one minute that there was hope... but he hadn't seen Maka since the day before, in the training grounds. Eruka told him she just needed time, that she wasnt sure of what to do. Well, he wasnt sure either... was it okay to torture Maka with feelings she couldnt reciprocate? Maybe he was hurting her...

But those were thoughts that vanished everytime he was close to her, because her soul didnt lie... her soul called for him with the same desperation he could feel deep inside himself. But souls lived in their own little world, a simple world where there was no rules, no morals or walls. The wants of the soul not always could be achieved... not every desire was okay. Surrendering your soul to their full demands was the way of the kishin, there had to be a limit.

Where was their limit? Where was the line that separated what was okay for them from what was not? He knew what he wanted... and he felt disgusting just by thinking about it. The need, the desire, the unbearable want, like some kind of madness taking control. So much need was not healthy, so much desire surely was forbidden, like a hunger that couldnt be satiated. The feelings dwelling inside him were terrifying, he had no idea how to deal with them, and the claws of madness were slowly reaching into his mind, clawing, biting, calling his name...

"Just jerk off, you'll feel better" Ragnarok's crude voice made him yelp, tearing off his face from the pillow he had been holding into his arms for dear life.

"S-S-Shut up!" Crona warned his weapon partner, a deep blush showing in his pale cheeks. Of course, Ragnarok being his very blood, was wary of all his bodily feelings and some of his emotions, at least the ones that included hormones being carried by his bloodstream. Stein explained him that once.

"What? I'm trying to help you! After a full week of that cow giving you blue balls, is normal you are all worked up!" His weapon partner chuckled, comfortably sitting on his head, paw-like hands ruffling his loose pink hair. "You think I'm happy with how fucked up you feel? This frustrates me to no end! If you are not finding a way to relief yourself, I demand you go out and kill something! At least that would make ME feel better!"

Crona groaned, rubbing his face against the soft pillow he had been holding for a while now. After classes were done, and after not seeing Maka for the whole day, his frustration and worry took the best of him. Eruka offered him to take a walk, but he wasnt sure he wanted her around. The least he wanted was to pick up on her his ill mood. But probably she was right... at least he should take a walk. When he was feeling that way, exercise worked as a good way of releasing steam. Black Star taught him that.

Taking a deep breath, he threw aside the crushed pillow, walking towards the bathroom of his small room. Being underground in the Shibusen's basement had its perks, like having a natural isolation against bad weather. The night was unusually cold, but down there it was cozy, so much he could walk around wearing his socks. Crona stretched, rubbing his face before taking off his long black coat, hanging it on the chair's backrest of his little desk. The perks of having black blood was that he could actually go out for a run even in the middle of a snowstorm, without freezing to death. Running around with lots of clothes was bothersome anyway.

Reaching for the bathroom's sink, he turned on the cold water faucet and collected the liquid in his palms, rubbing it against his face to clear his head. That helped a bit, at least the fogginess inside his head was vanishing, and his body stopped itching. He really should consider taking that run exercise, otherwise he wouldnt be able to sleep, again.

Taking a deep breath, the swordsman took off his white turtle neck sweater, changing himself for a single navy blue long sleeved sport top and black loose pants, discarding the use of the damn underwear. If Liz knew, she would have a fashion fit, or Eruka would complain to no end about him having no decency, but they would never understand the struggle.

"Are you really going out in this weather!? You want me to freeze to death!? Is that it!?" Ragnarok complained on top of his head, watching how his meister fixed the cord of his pants around his thin waist. The top was tight on his arms and chest, but loose enough around his torso to hide his feminine curves. One day a couple boys confused him with a woman while jogging... dear lord Ragnarok mocked him for days about it.

"You told me to do something, and running always helps" Crona answered him matter-of-factly, receiving nothing but a hard nudge on his head. "Q-Quit it! Is n-not even that cold!"

"Oh is that so! I'm keeping all the warmth for myself and let you freeze as soon as you step outside! I swear to Death I will!" Ragnarok's tense frustration was quite plausible, one more thing for just to go out and release steam.

"I'll search for food after we are done, how does that sound?" The swordsman tried to negotiate with his weapon partner, reaching up for one of his sneakers, when he heard a couple knocks on his door.

Both meister and weapon yelped in surprise, not used to be bothered at such late times of the night. Not even Eruka would bother them when they called it a day, and certainly not after telling her he needed to be left alone. Who was it? In his meister experience, calls so late at night were never good. Crona and Ragnarok stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, keeping quiet.

Another knock on the door, silence... should he answer?

"Crona... are you awake?" A soft wary voice called for him, and Ragnarok roared in frustration, retreating back inside his body with a muttered curse word. Silence once again.

The swordsman discarded his sneakers, walking towards the door as quietly as possible. He wasnt expecting her at all, the shock of hearing her voice behind his door left him unable to think properly. Why was she there? Did something happen? It had to be, She had been gone the whole day, it certainly was important... was she okay? Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob, opening the door.

Maka was there, fully dressed in a winter outfit. Her white jacket had a thin layer of snow in it, her hands were covered by her usual white gloves, warm boots covered in remnants of snow completed her outfit. Well, it seemed Ragnarok was right, it looked like outside was getting really cold. Midnight dark eyes meet emerald green, and for a brief second both stood there in silence, staring at each other. The itchy feeling returned to his whole body, followed by his heart beating faster, tainting his cheeks a subtle dark tone.

"M-Maka..." He whispered, fully opening the door so he could meet her. She smiled at him, forcing his stomach into a painful twist. What was she doing there so late? After she left without a word, after not seeing her for the whole day... what was she doing there?

"I'm sorry Crona, I know its late... can we talk?" The blonde meister asked him, emerald eyes staring at him, glistening, hopeful. Did she even have to ask?

The swordsman nodded at her, slowly stepping aside, letting her in.

---

Maka took a deep relieved breath, walking inside his room.

It could hardly be called an apartment, but its what it was meant to be. A single sized bed, a desk, a closet, his bathroom... nothing else. The scythe meister looked around before noticing how dark it was, right before the swordsman turned on the lights from the switch close to the door.

"Were you sleeping?" She asked to him, unsure if she had woken him up. He looked tired, maybe just as tired as herself, and she would hate to interrupt if he had managed to get some sleep. The swordsman shook his head.

"N-No... I wasnt" He assured her, closing the door of his room before reaching up his hands towards her, like asking her for something. "Uh... y-you want me to take your jacket?"

Maka couldnt help but smile at him. Always the sweet shy gentleman.

"Thank you Crona" She said with gratefulness, removing the thick beanie off her head, followed by her jacket and scarf. Inside his room it was quite cozy, fortunately, so she wouldnt need all of her thick garment.

The swordsman took her clothes, and dutifully started to arrange them in hooks inside his almost empty closet, leaving it open so they would dry. She stared at him, noticing his sport top fitting so nicely in his slender body, the black loose pants that could hide his wide hips, and a pair of black socks to match. So indeed he had been resting... she could tell by how the sports clothes weren't wet with snow. Maybe he was planning on going out?

"Were you leaving?" She asked to him, curious of seeing him in an outfit that wasn't common in him. He finished arranging her clothes, his hand traveling down the sleeve of her jacket before looking back at her.

"I-I... I was planing on going out for running..." He said with his usual soft voice, making her arch an eyebrow.

"In this weather?.. this late at night?" Maka asked, not out of distrust, but out of curiosity.

"R-Ragnarok asked me the same... I thought it w-would help me to sleep" Crona explained, a little sheepish smile turning on his lips. Just as she feared, he had trouble sleeping as well. She could see it in his face, even if he always had a tired look in his eyes. Could it be it was because of her?... because of them? "A-Are you okay? I was r-really worried about you"

"I'm sorry Crona... I didnt meant to" She sighed, looking around before walking towards his bed, taking a seat on its edge. Her eyes darted towards the disarranged pillows, noticing he had been there, probably snuggling against the corner for comfort. "I just needed time alone... to think about us"

Her words did what she was planning they would do. He was now paying full attention to her, wide open dark eyes staring at her, following her every move. Maka smiled softly at him, her hand taking one of the pillows next to her so there would be space in bed. She patted the empty spot next to her, hoping for him to understand.

And he did. With wary unsure footsteps, the sword meister walked towards her, climbing on bed and sitting next to her in a comfortable safe distance, barely an arm away. By force of habit, or just to feel less anxious, he took the remaining free pillow between his arms, holding it against his chest along with his own knees. Some things would never change, and Maka decided at that moment that it didnt bother her at all... he liked him just the way he was.

"Y-you c-can take your shoes off... i-if you like of course..." He pointed out, looking down to her heavy boots, wet because of the snow outside. She chuckled.

"I think I will" Maka chuckled softly, reaching for her boots and slowly loosening up the cords, taking her time in that mundane deed to keep her thoughts in order. She was there with a mission. She was there to tell him the conclusions of her heart... she had to stay focused, no matter what.

She kicked her boots off her feet, taking a deep long sigh of relief when her toes got released from them. Her gloved hands reached up to her toes, rubbing them slightly to get them warm, just to notice they were obviously cold as well. After a couple seconds deliberating, she decided to remove her gloves as well, tossing them on the floor next to her boots. Her fingers were slightly numb because of the cold, but they were slowly warming up.

"A-Are you cold?" The swordsman's soft voice took her out of her thoughts, looking back at him who was staring at her. "I c-can give you a dry sweater..."

"its okay, its warm and nice in here" She smiled, scooting in bed until her back meet the brick wall, her short legs now comfortably resting on the mattress. Her eyes moved towards him, staring at his hunched position, strong arms holding into the pillow tightly, legs recoiled against himself. He looked like a scared child waiting for a punishment. Some things would never change.

Taking notice of their surroundings, the scythe meister looked at the discarded pillow between them, separating them. Slowly, not giving it much thought, she reached for the fluffy object just to hold it against her chest, in the same position her friend was. It wasnt until she rested her chin on the pillow, that she noticed it had Crona's scent all over it. Her eyes softened, and she couldnt help but hid her face against the soft fabric between her arms, taking a deep long breath.

Silence fell between them. The room was quiet, the alley outside was quiet, not even the echo of other guests in Shibusen's basements could be heard. The walls were thick enough to not let loud sounds travel too far. What was going to be said in that room, was something no one else would hear. Maka kept on taking deep breaths against the pillow, her hands holding tight into the fabric, a sudden memory forcing her to glance towards the only window of the room, completely covered by a thick layer of snow. She sighed in relief.

There was no better moment.

"I haven't been able to sleep too well..." Maka started, keeping her chin resting on the soft pillow in her arms, hugging it close to her chest. Her emerald eyes were focused on the wall at the other side of the room, knowing that Crona was listening to her, even if she didnt look at him. "So many thoughts come at night... so many memories"

The swordsman said nothing, but let out a soft humming out of his throat, letting her know he could agree with her. She smiled softly.

"Ey... remember Patty's seventeenth birthday?" The blonde meister chuckled, emerald eyes glancing towards the thin swordsman, who was looking at her with those large deep midnight dark eyes.

"Y-yeah... we all went to the attraction park, it was a nice day" He smiled softly, seemingly remembering the event. "Black Star and Patty jumped on every attraction and bet who would puke first"

"Black Star making a fool of himself as always, its a miracle we didnt get kicked out after he puked on top of the roller coaster" Maka laughed at the memory of the blue monkey pale as a ghost, on his hands and knees crawling and mumbling his death wish. "Remember when he forced Kid into the clown house? That was gold!"

"Maka, he had a panic fit" Crona scolded the meister who was laughing softly at the memory, eventually making the swordsman chuckle along with her. "Liz and Soul had to get inside and drag him out, he passed out"

"Well it was still fun! The almighty pompous god defeated by funny mirrors" Maka grinned, noticing how the swordsman slowly started to relax beside her, his arms holding into the pillow more comfortably, his legs slowly resting on bed instead of being tightly retracted against his chest. "Remember the horror house?"

"N-N-No" Crona mumbled, blushing.

"Yes you do!" Maka laughed, her right head reaching up to him, poking one of his ribs, making him squeak in surprise.

"I-I-I try not to! Is so embarrassing!" The swordsman hid his face on the pillow in his arms, making the scythe meister smile warmly at him. Her hand went up to his back, petting him slowly trying to comfort him. He groaned, mumbling. "I got lost inside for an hour..."

"Tell me about it! I almost loose my crap searching for you..." She thought out loud, remembering that day. "I took you to a time-off after finding you, nothing but sweets and trying to get some prizes"

"Y-Yeah... I liked that a lot" He sighed, his eyes softening at the memory of that night. Maka remembered that night perfectly. After the damn scare at that house, they separated from the group, taking a little trip around the attraction park for themselves.

"I had no idea Ragnarok was so good shooting darts" She pointed out, her hand traveling down the swordsman's back one last time before retreating, holding the pillow in her arms again.

"Bloody needles, I guess" Crona's soft smile at the memory slowly vanished from his face, another memory seemingly creeping into his mind. "I was hoping to get in the fortune wheel with you, you talked about it the whole day"

"Yeah..." Maka sighed, remembering how she had wanted to get in that attraction with him since the day started. She had wanted to show him the whole city at the top of it, and see his reaction. He always had the cutest reactions to the most simple yet meaningful events and scenes. He was easy to impress, and Maka loved to be around in every new experience he could get. Yet... "Tsubaki asked you to go with her"

Crona hummed in response, resting his chin on top of the pillow in his arms. That night, Maka went into that wheel with Soul... it all started there.

What if Crona had gone with her instead of Soul?

She should feel horrible, thinking on pointless "what ifs", regarding to her relationship with his weapon partner. But truth was... she wasnt feeling horrible anymore. After everything that had being said and done, she now knew...

"Crona..." She said softly, calling for him. He glanced at her, attentively. "Did you ever try to confess to me when we were young?"

He squeaked, forcing the meister to look at him. Her green emerald eyes caught on his impressed features. The wide open eyes, the pale cheeks slowly tainting with a dark blush, the half parted soft lips, not knowing what to say. He closed his mouth tightly, chewing into his lower lip, apparently dealing with the embarrassment of telling her. Her right hand searched for his left arm, careful fingers caressing his tense biceps. The swordsman seemed to relax with her touch, his scared features slowly turning into a thoughtful quiet semblance on his face. He took a deep breath.

"I-I... I never understood what I felt..." Crona explained with a slightly quivering voice. He swallowed, trying to clear down his throat. "No one ever explained me... how it was supposed to feel... why I would only feel like that around you, what did it mean, I knew nothing... then it just was too late"

And it all was her fault. How could she have been so blind? Thinking back, it was so freaking obvious... but no more. No more of that. She slowly retreated her right hand from his arm, holding back the pillow against her chest. Running away from the unknown, trying to avoid the troubles, clawing into a comfortable easy way out just to not deal with the uncertainty of the second option. She had been a coward... but no more.

"Remember... the poem we all used for the charity contest?" Crona asked, dark eyes looking down to the floor, deep in thought.

"Yeah, the one you wrote... it was beautiful" Maka smiled at the memory. They all worked it out to turn it into a quick play. "Soul sang while playing his guitar, and Kid worked out the scenario... they all liked it"

"... I wrote that poem for you"

Crona's voice, calm and soft, worked as a huge slap on her face. It hurt, it stung, remembering quite well that moment, the lyrics of the song, and how she sang it along with Soul in the scenario. Crona had refused to participate actively, and instead he watched the play behind curtains. It were the times where she started dating Soul. It also were the times where Crona started to hang out more with their other friends, rather than with her. It was so... fucking obvious. He had suffered in silence for so long, thanks to her blindness, to her fear, to her immaturity. She had choked the wants of her heart for so long... but no more.

"I've been thinking... how we could have worked out" Maka said in a calm tone of voice, her nervous fingers toying with the soft fabric of the pillow in her lap. "I stay awake at night, just thinking that... places we could have gone, holidays we could have enjoyed, shared nights to remember... a whole story I would love to read... but never got written."

The dark eyes of the swordsman stared at her with a deep fondness, yet his features showed a hint of sadness, a little bit of regret, but also there was that barely restrained hunger. Those eyes, so expressive, clear windows of his soul... and they were solely fixed on her. She wanted to see those eyes everyday, to wake up every morning and see his face resting next to her, to get back home from work and see him safe and happy in her home, greeting her. She wanted to have him in her life, she wanted to be part of his life, she...

Maka smiled, emerald eyes looking at him for the longest time before closing up. Her chest moved with deep slow breaths, her mind enjoying the so very needed silence. It was as if he knew she needed the quiet for a moment, just to collect her thoughts, to summarize her conclusions, to reach for the answer dancing at the tip of her tongue. At the end, the truth was always harder to say than anything else, but this truth was so enjoyable yet dangerous, like sweet poison, and she didnt mind to die by swallowing it whole. Another deep breath, and her eyes opened up slowly, staring at the ceiling above them, wishing to be able to see the unending stars in the dark sky. It would be the perfect companion to the relief that was slowly washing down her body.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, wishing to enjoy the words that were coming out of her mouth, unrestrained, liberating.

"I love you"

---

Her words felt like a mild shock on his nerves.

Just a shock, a goosebump, a tiny yet blazing heat on his chest, like a needle poking on his very heart. It was subtle, but enough to make his breathing speed up, his hands moist with sweat, and for a moment he forgot where he was. His eyes, wide open in disbelief, were completely fixed on the angel sitting next to him. His angel, his goddess, his savior, saying those tainted words for him. Love...

The feeling of not having enough. The need for listening to someone's voice, even if its only for a minute. The want of being close, even if its only to see her smile. The desire of having her in his arms, no matter how troublesome, how sinful, how wrong it could be. Was that it? The racing of his heart, the nervous sweat running down his neck, the sleepless nights, the tears... was that love?

He felt all that for her... was she feeling the same? Did love have even any kinds of levels? It wasnt the first time someone said they loved him... Medusa said it to him, but it always felt wrong... it felt like a lie. That wasnt love. Marie would say it often, Victor would drop it off randomly for him, but it was also quite different. That love was nice, soft and tender, welcoming, like... being home. That love was special, but it wasnt even near what he was feeling right there.

This love, this feeling, was a monster. An insatiable, starving, maddening monster that threatened to consume everything on its path if not sated. It would break walls, consume sanity, destroy friendships and threaten the foundations of his whole life if it's demands were not met. And that monster only demanded her... His Goddess.

Was that love then? It wasnt just scary, fear didnt reach the whole nerve-wracking sensation drowning his whole being. Love was beyond scary... it was terrifying. Because he wasnt sure he could fight it off... those needs, that impulsive hunger for her, the animalistic wishes of his starving soul. He felt as if some kind of madness was taking control... was that moment even real? Was he dreaming? Maybe he felt asleep, he was in his room after all...

After a moment in silence, Crona managed to pull his right thumb close to his lips, and with a quick bite he pierced his own skin. Maka stared with wide open eyes as he bit himself, black blood dripping from his thumb for just a second before going rock hard, the wound quickly healing.

"Crona?" The soft voice of the scythe meister called for him. She stared at him with worry, noticing how his features seemed to turn pale.

"I-It hurt..." He mumbled, icy blue eyes staring down at the little wound on his thumb, closing up completely. "Why?... d-dreams don't hurt... I-It s-shouldn't hurt..."

Maka frowned a little at his words, but realization quickly hit her as she kept on staring at him. A little chuckle escaped her lips, scooting closer to him so she could reach his face with her hands. The swordsman blinked, scared ice blue eyes meeting warm emerald green... letting him know it was very real. No dream, no matter how elaborated, could perfectly mimic that complex look in her eyes. No dream, no matter how real, could ever make him feel the warmth of her hands, caressing his cheeks.

"How can you think that? You've been inside my soul... you should know what I feel for you" Maka gently scolded him, soft hands pulling on him closer to her. He dropped the tight grasp on his own legs, kneeling in bed so he could face her fully, leaning down to meet her height. She did the same, kneeling in front of him, their foreheads almost touching. "Or am I that good hiding it?"

"Is just..." Crona whispered, the pale color of his cheeks slowly turning into a dusky tone of red, shivering in her hands. Unsure, he let his arms drop on bed, holding himself in front of her, like an obedient pet waiting for orders. "I thought... I thought I was mirroring my feelings on you... maybe I was mixing them up... maybe..."

"Enough" Maka ordered with a firm tone, the thumbs holding his cheeks sliding down to his mouth, keeping his lips sealed. The swordsman swallowed hard, feeling the beat of his heart pumping his black blood in a nervous frenzy, making him blush and feel way too hot in all odd places. Maybe she was feeling the same? Just then, being so close to her, he noticed a subtle trail of sweat running down her neck. "Mirroring? Who told you that stuff?"

Ashamed, the swordsman glanced away, unable to say a name. A friend explained that to him once, mirroring... as if, wanting something to be true so badly, that you could actually feel and think the other person's actions were made to match your expectations. He thought that for a long time...

"Crona..." Maka's voice called for his attention, his blue eyes searching for her again. She hadnt dropped her grip on his face, her thumbs softly caressing his lips. Her eyes were demanding, piercing emerald green staring at him, meaning business. She was dead serious. "I love you"

Again. The shiver on his spine forced him into a full body spasm, trembling in her hands, forcing him to close his eyes as hard as he could. It was true, it was real, it was really happening... but it was too good to believe it. How could he believe it? After years of maddening hallucinations, of convincing himself it would never happen... it was really happening. His reason, trained to distrust anything that could be remotely good for him, was fighting off the truth displaying in front of him, the truth only his soul knew well. The only truth in his world, the only thing he could always rely on, the only rule he could abide for... the rule of believing in her. Blindly, passionately, faithfully, his trust on her was relentless and unmoving. If there was one person in the whole world he could believe in, no matter what, was Maka.

And she was telling him she loved him.

The universal truth that no one would ever love him, was colliding with the universal fact that Maka would never lie to him.

And she was telling him she loved him.

"Crona..." The scythe meister's soft voice called him, pulling him out of his shock. He forced himself to open his eyes, meeting her own. She was staring at him with that unknown feeling in her eyes, that silent need, that steady concealed fire. She moved her thumbs from his lips to his cheeks, caressing his skin. "Is it so hard to believe?"

Yes, yes it was.

Slowly, he lifted his right hand, meeting the one holding his face, and softly pressed it to his cheek. He leaned against her touch, closing his eyes once again, frowning slightly trying to focus on her warmth, not letting any whimper to leave his mouth. It hurt, but it was another kind of pain... this pain was hot and sharp, tugging at his heart, making it speed up. It was a fire, expanding on his chest, making his blood boil with need, with desire, with hope. It was love... that feeling was called love.

With a hard breath, he sucked on air just to release it in a long half-chocked sigh, trying to vent out his pent up anxiety. Slowly, his right hand closed on the one holding his cheek, taking it in a firm grasp before slowly tearing it away from his face. The blonde meister retreated her right hand from his cheek, looking down to the bony strong fingers taking her small left hand in them. The swordsman opened his eyes, looking down at the hand resting between his own. It was soft despite the hardened skin after years of weapon wielding, but beyond that... those hands were his salvation. With just one touch she pulled him out of madness. With just one caress, she fixed his broken mind. Those hands that could deliver punishment, meant nothing but pleasure for him. Those hands were holy, as the hands of a goddess should always be.

"Th..." He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He swallowed, clearing his throat, taking a deep breath to open his lungs, trying again. "The Sun and the Moon are not supposed to be together... h-how can a celestial being like you be with a dark being like me?..."

The swordsman kept his stare in their joined hands, a frown showing on his face, focused. He knew she would try and scold him for his words, as she always would do when he talked bad about himself. He was ready for that, although that wasnt what he wanted. He wanted to be open to her, to tell her the secrets hidden in his soul, since she showed her own. Instead, the scythe meister's hands grasped his own in a warm tight hold, thumbs softly caressing his skin. The demon swordsman looked up, fearful, just to stare at those green eyes looking at him with a depth that took his breath away. Her eyes, open portals to her soul, whispered poetry to him.

She chuckled at his words.

"I'm not the perfect sunshine you think I am..." Her soft voice scolded him, making him form a small smile on his lips.

"I know you're not" He said, enjoying her arched eyebrow, questioning him. "Y-you're short-tempered, d-demanding and too headstrong"

"Ey!" She gasped, obviously faking being offended, untangling one of her hands from his grasp to lightly push him by his slim chest. He gave her a little chuckle, yet kept a hold on her other hand.

"B-But... y-you're perfect for me" He continued, leaning closer to her, ice blue eyes looking down to emerald green. Releasing her hands, his own traveled up by her arms to her shoulders, resting on them for a second before reaching up to her face, fingertips barely holding her, thumbs gently resting on her jawline. "You've always been... so perfect... How can someone like you love something as broken as me?"

Maka stared at him, large deep green eyes looking at now midnight dark, in silence. She was unmoving, both of her hands resting on her lap, kneeling in front of him. Both of them were perfectly still, the old springs of the bed not making a sound, the dim light of the ceiling's lightbulb barely shining above them. Slowly, the scythe meister's right hand lifted up from her lap to his chest, naked fingers gently resting above his sternum. Her hand softly started to move up and down, rubbing the defined muscle of his pectorals, as if trying to pet the soul hidden within his body. He allowed her to caress him, to feel him, he was powerless against her touch.

"You're a handful..." She said all of the sudden, making him yelp, cheeks blushing once again, embarrassed. "You're insecure, anxious, your need for belittling yourself can get on my nerves... and you have a really bad temper"

The blush on his cheeks intensified. All that was true, there was no way of fighting that off. Many would jump to the conclusion that his madness-induced outrages were due to, well, madness. But in fact they were an expression of his temper. He wasnt surprised Maka could see all that in him.

"And yet..." She continued, eyes looking down to his chest, where her hand was resting. "The way you manage to be... so kind, so patient, so giving and selfless in ways I can never dream to be... it amazes me. How can someone who has gone through hell, can come out and still have such a beautiful soul? How can a dark being like you have the brightest smile?... How can you let me know you and think I wont love you?"

His hands, slightly shaky, moved down through her arms to the hand resting on his chest. Pressing Maka's palm against him, Crona closed his eyes tightly, taking deep long breaths, trying to tame the outcry of joy of his very soul. Happiness, in such overwhelming amounts, was painful. He, not used to so much joy all at once, was feeling overwhelmed. Knowing his feelings were not only understood, but matched and corresponded, was more than what he could have ever asked for. Just knowing... she loved him... was enough. Biting down his lower lip, trying to keep a hold on his emotions, he kept on her hand against his chest, holding into it with both hands as if she were the most valuable treasure in the whole world.

And she was, she really was.

"I love you too... with all my soul..." Crona whispered, softly, painfully, the words dragging out of his lips like the darkest secret of his life. That was it, no more words were needed, there were no words in the world to explain his feelings for her... just love.

It was such a small word, for the endless meaning she had in his life.

---

Maka looked down, slowly, to her hand trapped in Crona's tight grasp.

He was holding her close, her palm resting on the small cushion of muscle in his chest, both of his slender hands pressing her own against him. He was kneeling in front of her, head slightly bowed, eyes closed, holding to her with devotion. That was the word... devotion, and she wasnt sure she was worthy of that word, of that blind trust, of that amount of relentless belief. And yet... she couldnt say she didnt like it. Knowing he was hers, knowing he loved her so desperately, so passionately... it just felt natural. It felt right... as if that was how things were supposed to be.

Silently, her left hand reached up to his face, cupping his right cheek in her palm, softly caressing his skin with her thumb. The night was silent, not even faint footsteps in the corridors could be heard, or the muffled chat of other guests in the school basements. Right there, it was as if they were in another world, another dimension, a place far away from reality where no one existed... just them. A world made for them, where no one would bother them, no one would try to tear them apart. There was no Meena, no Owl Witch, no Soul, no Eruka, no one existed but them.

And it felt so right.

The right hand caressing his chest turned into a closed fist, holding into him by the thin layer of his sport top. Her left hand, holding him by his cheek, trailed down to the back of his head, fingers digging through his pink hair, pulling him closer to her. Without a word he obliged, without a whimper, a stutter or resistance, he allowed her to handle him at will. He trusted her, he believed in her, he gave her his heart... and she wanted to give him just as much. She wanted him to have everything of her.

Pulling him closer, Maka took her time, closing her eyes to enjoy the slow and soft touch of her lips against his own. She heard him gasp, his warm lips parting slightly, just enough for her to have a taste of him. It was such an innocent kiss, half closed lips holding each other in an intimate caress, warm and tender, yet it managed to pierce her whole being. That unknown feeling, hidden for so long, restrained, buried and stomped for years was now unleashed, running free through their bodies and souls. There, in the depths of that dungeon, in the secrecy of that room, they were sharing their sin.

Their sweet, innocent, gentle sin.

The hand holding his clothes pushed him firmly, slowly, allowing him to sit down on bed instead of keep on kneeling in front of her. The swordsman groaned through their joined lips, hands moving behind him to hold himself and avoid falling on his back. Didnt he know? Thats exactly what she wanted. She smiled, breaking the kiss between them to stare at him. He opened his eyes, deep midnight dark, hazy with need, glossy with want, a slight subtle spark of fear still visible in them. How did she look for him? How was she staring at him? Did her eyes show all of her want? Could he see all of her burning desire? Was he able to see her love, slipping through her eyes? Maybe he could, as she insisted on pushing him further, he finally gave up, allowing her to subdue him down on bed.

Maka crawled towards him, the bed's springs complaining with her weight as she straddled him, taking a seat on his lap. Her heart was thundering, heat rising to her cheeks with a flaring blush, her mouth going dry with excitement. The swordsman stared at her with impressed wide open eyes, expectant, vulnerable, trustful. It was stupid, really... this wasnt the first time they were in such situation, and yet it was the very first time she gave herself the time to enjoy the view of him under her body. She swallowed, clearing her throat, noticing how her hand resting on his chest was trembling. She was shaking, like a little teenager on her first time.

"Maka..." Crona whispered, concerned, lifting up his right hand to caress her cheek. His touch was warm and soft, inviting her to lean against his palm, closing her eyes briefly.

Taking a deep breath, she collected her resolve, slowly dropping her weight on top of him until her chest meet his own, both of her hands moving up to his hair, holding on him in fistfuls. The dim light of the room was enough to have a clear view of him, of his expectant dark eyes, his pale skin now sporting a deep dusky blush. His heart was pummeling against her chest, and it was a relief to know he was just as scared. Closing her eyes again, she searched for the honey softness of his lips against her own. Their sinful confession, their guilty love, was now sealed with that kiss.

Maybe it was some kind of spell, something added in the warmth of his skin, in the taste of his mouth, in the wetness of his tongue shyly searching for her own, but she just couldnt have enough. It was indeed a vicious hunger, a desperate need, a fire that ignited every time she kissed him. It all started six months ago, kissing him by impulse, driven by the overwhelmed feelings of his love confession... and after that, there was no going back. She knew she couldnt go on without having him, his caresses, his kisses, his taste.

Her lips moved against his own, enjoying the slow dance they were sharing. The blonde meister sucked on his lower lip, forcing a throaty groan out of his mouth, being swiftly punished with a soft nibble. Her fingers caressed, pulled and gently clawed on his scalp, fingers tangling on his pink long hair, demanding him more. His gentle swordsman, so receptive, so understanding of her needs, finally decided to move his hands to her body, holding her tightly against him. His right hand found a grip on the small of her back, while his left crawled through her upper back to her loose blonde hair. He was holding her close, he was hugging her tightly, he was kissing her passionately. A moan escaped her throat, making her lover shiver under her body.

She wanted that. She wanted all of his reactions, all of his moans, she wanted to be the cause of his desire, of his hard throbbing need, of his sanity-consuming passion. She wanted all of him and she was tired of fighting against it. Right there, in the dim light of that room, in the darkness of that basement, Maka Albarn decided she have had enough.

Breaking the kiss, the blonde meister sat down on top of her lover, steading herself with both hands resting on his chest. He was breathing heavily, his rib cage moving up and down in strong intakes of air. His hand, resting now on her hipbone, was holding her tightly in an attempt to hide his shaking. Searching for his dark eyes, she tried to figure out what was he thinking. There was a mad whirlwind of emotions in those eyes. She could see hunger, lust, fear, love, uncertainty, devotion... he was looking at her with the awe of a believer staring at an angel. Maka would never understand why Crona insisted in seeing her as this kind of otherworldly celestial being... but at least for that night, she would assume her role and play along. For that night, she would be the savior he wanted, the angel he desired, the goddess he worshiped.

In exchange, for that night, she wanted him to be the thief of the remnants of her innocence. For that night, he would be the dark angel whispering temptation in her hear. For that night, he would be the demon corrupting her soul, pulling her into embracing her most dark and restrained desires. For that night, she wanted them to be just two naked souls, merging together, giving to each other, loving each other.

Fixing herself on top of him, she rested her hips against his own, biting down her lower lip when a known hardness found a comfortable position against her. He flinched slightly, taking a sharp intake of breath and looking at her with fear and uncertainty. What was he thinking? She wouldnt like that? Just the thought of having him rock hard under her body was enough to make her shiver in delight, and she let him know that by moving her hips against him softly, gently rocking on top of him. Both of his hands quickly moved down to her hips, bony fingers digging on her flesh. If he was trying to press her harder against him, or push her away, she didnt know.

He opened his mouth, apparently trying to speak out, but no words left his throat. He was speechless, and instead a little chocked whimper was barely heard, forcing an even harder blush on his cheeks. The swordsman was so expressive, so receptive, and that only ignited her desire. She wanted more of that... all of his expressions, all of his thoughts and desires, she wanted to own every dream and waking thought of him, so no one would ever try and take him away. He belonged to her, he was hers, and she knew what they both wanted.

No fear, doubt, or faint sense of moral would tear her apart from him now.

Helping herself with the tight grasp of Crona on her hips, she moved her hands off his chest, to the edge of her sweater and blouse below. Taking a deep breath, her eyes stared down at the dark orbes of the meister below her, warning him for a couple seconds, before pulling her clothes off. She peeled her garments in slow controlled movements, feeling the sudden mild cold of the room clawing at her sensitive skin. Her small breasts were still securely held by a frilly white bra, pushing them together trying to make the illusion of them being bigger. A pinch of doubt and insecurity bit down her resolve, and Maka had to fight hard just to not try and cover herself in front of him. Instead, she hesitantly moved her hands back down to his stomach, waiting for him to have any kind of reaction.

The pink haired meister was laying under her body, wide open icy blue eyes staring at her in shock, mouth slightly parted. His hands were frozen on her hips, and not one muscle of him was moving at all. For just a second, Maka thought he had spazzed out completely, until a fierce dark blush rose to his face. Choking a yelp down his throat, his right hand abandoned the flesh of her hips to move up to his own nose, pinching it hard while his eyes looked up and down her body with renewed hunger. She couldnt help but grin.

"Are you having a nosebleed?" She teased him, her grin getting bigger by the second.

"N-N-No..." He squeaked, his large eyes looking at her vehemently, so bad he had to force himself to tear his stare out of her. Crona closed his eyes tightly, seemingly trying to compose himself. Maka felt flattered. "Is just... you're... its..."

No matter how old, she would always think he was too damn cute.

She smiled at him warmly, her hands resting on his stomach now moving up and down his torso in slow gentle caresses. Her fingertips traveled up and down the defined lines of his muscles, perfectly traceable on top of that light sport top. Slowly, she moved down through his flat stomach, thumbs caressing down through the black fabric of cloth until finding its edge, slowly pulling it up. The swordsman bit down his lower lip, holding a painfully evident moan, tearing the hand holding his own nose to search for her wrist, holding her in place, stopping her from removing his garment. His icy blue eyes stared at her with barely restrained desire, yet there was still a hint of doubt, a glimpse of fear and disbelief. What was he thinking? That she was there just to mess around with him for a while and leave?

Oh no... this was not going to end anytime soon.

She desisted in her attempt to strip him from his clothes, but instead decided he needed more reassurance. He needed to understand, by himself, where this was going, how far she wanted it, without her actually telling him. Not because she wanted to toy with him, but because she wanted him to make the dive with her, instead of her pulling him into her plans, like usual. Thats why she wasnt resonating with him, thats why she wasnt expressively pointing out her desires... she wanted him to join her into it, not just follow her like the devoted faithful he was.

She knew he wanted it, that much was obvious... but they weren't little kids anymore. He wasnt a naive clueless sheltered teenager that needed guidance like a blind man needs a service dog... no, that teenager was gone, long lost years ago. He needed to choose now, to claim his needs and desires as his own, to make the choice of having her... no matter the consequences. She had already made that choice, but he needed to make it was well, by himself.

Still, a little push would always go a long way with him.

Her hands slowly moved through his clothes, slithering down his shirt to touch the warm naked skin below. Crona took a sharp intake of breath, his hand holding her wrist now moving to the bedsheets beneath them, crushing them in a tight grasp. He was restraining himself, despite the obvious desire to touch her, he was still doubtful... how? After everything they had done together? Nonsense.

Sliding her hands off his shirt, Maka searched for his own, holding his sword hand between her own. Caressing the hardened skin of his palm, she closed her eyes before pulling his knuckles against her cheek, feeling his warmth against her skin and the rushed pulse of his wrist in her fingers. How much she had missed his touch, during those long months without him, missing him, dreaming the day this would happen... being with him again. Opening her eyes, she looked down to the attentive eyes of the swordsman, staring at her with a calmer yet deep look, midnight dark eyes not missing one single detail of her actions.

Slightly parting her lips, she kissed the knuckles of his hand, feeling how he seemed to relax with her touch. As her tongue searched for the tip of his forefinger, kissing his fingertip before slowly taking him inside her mouth, she looked down to him. His eyes seemed to slowly loose focus, clouded by what seemed to be desire, lust, passion... that deep stare managed to make her shiver in anticipation. The throbbing hardness beneath her body seemed to twitch, pulsing against her, reminding her of the dangers of teasing him too much. She was ready to embrace the consequences... all of them.

Taking him off her mouth with a last slow suck of his finger, Maka took his hand to her chest, placing his palm against her sternum, in the space between her breasts. Her heart was racing, her cheeks blushing and despite the cold weather outside, a choking heat was steaming through her skin. Her slightly accelerated breathing was making the swordsman's hand to move up and down with her, but still there was no real attempt to fully, completely touch her.

Not because he didnt want to... but because he seemed to be in awe.

"Love me..." The scythe meister whispered to him, and those deep dark eyes, lost in a trance, suddenly ignited with a burning fire that forced a shiver down her spine. Her pulse quickened, moistening her lips with her tongue slowly before reassuring him, whispering again only for him to hear her. "I want you to love me..."

Her words made him feel dizzy.

The wet sensation on his fingers, the remaining tickling of her tongue's caresses on his skin, his palm resting in the middle of her chest... it all was too overwhelming. Her skin was soft and warm, her heart beating in a rush under his palm, eager, expectant... waiting for him. He looked up, dark eyes meeting emerald green, staring at her resolve, her silent desire, waiting for him. She was truly a goddess, his goddess.

They met in a church... how obvious was that? He, a lost demon feasting in the night, met salvation in a worshipping place, at the hand of that goddess. Among all places in the world for them to meet... it had to be a church. That was so obvious... where else you can find salvation? Where else you can get to meet your God? She deserved all of his devotion, his body, mind and soul belonged to her, and he was ready to meet her demands.

Taking impulse with the bouncy mattress of the old bed, the swordsman suddenly sat down. His left hand abandoned the bedsheets to move behind her, holding her back so she wouldnt fall off him. His right hand, resting in her sternum, gently slid to one of her breasts, shyly touching it above the thin layer of underwear. The blonde meister allowed a soft humming of approval to leave her throat, her hands traveling through his arms to his back, fingernails clawing down the black fabric of his clothes. How much he wanted to feel that passion on his naked skin, how much he wanted to tear more of those sensual sounds off her throat.

He wanted that... he wanted her to moan his name, to kiss him senseless, to pour into his body and soul her whole being... he wanted her to be his. He wanted her.

Reaching to her, his lips slowly rested on the base of her neck, delivering soft tentative caresses. Using just the tip of his tongue, he trailed a path along the artery of her neck, right on the spot he knew it would make her shiver. Her breath turned heavier, and her hands traveled down his back with soft scratches of her fingernails. A silent reward for his well thought actions, turning him a little bit bolder. Releasing her soft breast from his determined massage, both of his hands ran up and down her back, delivering the same demanding caresses on her own body. They were hugging now, relentlessly caressing each other in a comforting yet passionate way. Her hands were clawing on his back, fingernails digging on his skin, making him arch his back slightly. His hands were more gentle, but the strength of his grasp could leave red marks on her fair skin if he wasnt careful. There, breaking the contact of skin against skin, his palms met the bothersome fabric of her bra.

"C-Can I?..." He whispered in her ear, fingers taking a light grasp on the garment's metal hook, waiting for her commands.

"Do it" The blonde meister answered, lifting up her gaze to meet his own. She stared at him with such security, with fierce determination, without a doubt.

She probably was thinking he didnt have the need to ask anymore, but... this was different. The last time... it all happened so fast, so fast and it was so dark he didnt have the time to actually enjoy it, the feeling, the view, nothing. Now it was completely different, the dim light of the ceiling lighted the whole room with a soft warm tone, allowing him to see everything in full detail. His fingers struggled with the safe hook of her bra for a couple seconds, before finding the way to undo it. His breath hitched the moment the soft underwear got loose, his fingers slowly sliding it down her body, tossing it aside. As his eyes gobbled on her half-undressed figure, he had the sudden though that it was the first time Maka was actually naked in front of him...

Breathe, just breathe. Deep breathes... in an out... dont freak out. He reminded himself that as his eyes feasted on her, the softness of her skin, the perfect size of her chest that harmonized with her small body, her wheat blonde hair shining under the light, the combat scars around her body... he could stare at her for hours and not find a single defect on her. She was perfect.

"Crona?" Maka's voice called for him with a slight worried tone, forcing him out of his trance. He blinked a couple times, moving up his gaze back to her eyes. "What is it?"

"You're so beautiful..." His voice left before he had the time to think what he should say. Instead, the words poured out of mouth without the anxious filter of his brain. The blonde meister blushed a bright tone of red, her hands grasping on his clothes tighter.

"Take off your clothes" She demanded, a firm yet husky tone of voice that left no room to argue against it. Her hands, eager and desperate, crawled down his top to touch his naked skin below, yet she didnt make an effort to remove his garments. She wanted him to do it himself...

It was happening.

With shaky hands, he tug from the edge of his top and slid the cloth above his head, tossing away the sport top, shivering with the feeling of the air against his skin. The bite of self-consciousness finally caught him, nervousness and insecurity crawling up his spine, and for just a second the cold merciless grasp of doubt took a hold on him. What was he doing? Did he actually dare to show his body to her? Scared icy blue eyes looked at Maka with worry, noticing how the blonde meister looked down to his torso, her hands resting on the muscles of his chest.

No matter how much he ate, he was still too thin. His large bones and defined muscles of his chest and arms were the only sign that he was healthy, but in the wrong clothes people would think otherwise. Despite the slender well defined muscles on his back, the bumps of his spine could be seen. His stomach was flat and his waist too small, making his hips look too wide for a male... What if he wasnt enough below the waist?... This was a mistake, there was no way he could compete with Soul. How could he even think Maka would like him when she could have her husband, who was more man and more human than him? He should have...

Suddenly, the blonde meister latched to his chest, hands softly scratching him as her wet tongue delivered a slow seductive lick on his sensitive skin. The grasp of doubt on his mind vanished, along with every coherent and logical thought. There was only his naked soul, staring down to his angel through large shocked blue eyes, watching with awe how his lover was tasting his skin with eyes closed, enjoying herself. A low moan escaped his lips, her weight forcing him to relax again against the bedsheets, closing his eyes tightly. She moved her hips against him, grinding down, making him hiss with a mixture between desire and discomfort. He was so hard it was actually turning slightly painful.

His hands stopped holding the bedsheets to move towards her body, large bony hands grasping her flesh, squeezing the soft defined muscle of her back. Her fingernails traced little red marks across his chest, delivering soft kisses and gentle nibbles, forcing short half-chocked gasps of air out of his mouth. Crona was feeling slightly dizzy, probably because of how accelerated his heart was, black blood being pumped relentlessly through his bloodstream to keep him conscious and wary, hard and throbbing. The scythe meister clawed on his sides, forcing him to arch his back slightly with the feeling, his hands squeezing her sides, instinctively pressing her down against him. Maka left out a low moan resonate in her throat, letting him know she liked that. He knew that, he knew she wanted him to love her, to grasp, squeeze, kiss, lick and bite the same way she was doing it... but the remnants of fear still lingered deep inside his mind. He wanted to do just that, to hold her, take her senselessly and fulfill every sick need of his corrupted soul, but he was afraid. Those desires were his madness, whispering to him, waiting for a chance to come out and claim his mind into that well-known frenzy. What if those desires were just his madness, and not the pure feeling of love? What if...

Then Maka bit him.

Crona's eyes opened wide, a loud moan leaving his lips as he looked down. Maka had her eyes fixed on him, emerald green orbes staring at him from below, fierce and determined, as her mouth teased him delivering soft licks on his left nipple. The flame in her gaze was almost threatening, pinning him down with her hands grasping his shoulders, her mouth closing again against his sensitive bud before giving a long hard suck. He bit down his lip, shivering beneath her, in a vague attempt to control the sounds coming out of his mouth, to no avail. She had full control over him, she was leading the waltz, pulling him to the center of the stage where madness roamed free. He had no idea how long he could control himself before surrendering to those dangerous desires.

Then she bit him again.

"Maka!" He groaned her name, his voice coming out with a desperate complain.

"Why are you holding back?" The scythe meister scolded him, tearing herself off his chest to sit down on top of him. His hands, unable to reach her back anymore, moved down to her hips, holding the clothes of her winter pants with a trembling grasp. Without any warning, she moved her hips against his own, forcing a hiss through his teeth. "I know you want this as much as I do... Crona... stop holding back"

"I.. I dont..." He tried to talk, yet his breathing was too shallow and accelerated to speak coherently. Taking a deep breath, the swordsman swallowed the accumulated saliva on his mouth, his hands clenching on her hips just to keep her from moving against him. He couldnt concentrate. "I dont want to hurt you..."

Maka frowned, tilting her head slightly, staring down at him as if he had just said a weird phrase in an foreign language.

"I'm not a little girl anymore" She scolded him, looking at him with a frown in her face. Oh he knew that, how could he forget that? As she proudly sat on top of him, her perky perfect breasts glistening with the dim light of the room, he knew she wasnt a little girl any longer. No, she was a fierce proud determined woman, who would take everything she desired from him. And he wanted it, he really wanted her to ravage him and steal his very soul if she wanted to, but...

"I know... b-but I... I havent..." The words crammed on his throat, forcing him to swallow again. It was not only embarrassing, but the words also left an uncomfortable sense of vulnerability. He knew she was aware of it, but still... "I havent done this before... and I want you so much... I'm afraid I cant control myself..."

His words seemed to have an igniting effect on her. She looked down hard on him, almost with some kind of animalistic hunger.

"I dont want you to control yourself" Maka growled, her hands holding on his shoulders moving down through his chest, clawing down his skin slightly, leaving soft dark marks that quickly vanished. "I want to feel you, all of you..."

"B-But..."

"You wont hurt me"

"How are you so sure?" He asked, worried, yet she allowed her hard stare to melt down from her face, giving to him a quite contrasting soft smile. The lust and passion that clouded her eyes retreated, leaving nothing but that deep powerful emotion he now understood. Love.

"I believe in you" She said with security in her voice, her hands now caressing his chest up and down. In a slow controlled fall, she rested her body against his own, her mouth moving up from his neck to his ear. Her lips nibbled his earlobe, forcing his body to shiver. The blonde whispered in his ear. "Believe in me now... take me"

Her words left his mind in blank, icy blue eyes staring at her in bewilderment, too shocked to talk or complain. She noticed his stare, chuckling slightly before searching for his half-parted lips, sealing them with her own. The wet feeling of her tongue inside his mouth, the warmth of her body on top of his chest, the passion of her hands moving up and down his flesh, her scent, the teasing grinding of her hips against his own...

Something snapped inside him... and a vague thought let him know it had been the leftovers of his sanity.

He knew she was in control, she always have been, she always would. Her hips grinding against his own marked the pace. Her hands on his chest, pinning him down, controlled his movement. Her lips, nibbling, licking and kissing his own, kept his mind drowned in the bliss of passion, away from the grasp of doubt and fear. She had full control over him... and he had to believe that. He had to believe that Maka was in full control, even if he lose it completely, she would be there to pull him back, it was okay... just to let go.

His trembling hands, tightly grasping her winter pants above her hips, started to pull the fabric off. It started with a shy quivering pull, measuring her reaction, but she quickly moved up from his hips slightly, enough for him to actually uncover some skin. His accelerated breathing wasnt helping with his dizziness, the high pressure of his blood was so much worse, if he didnt calm down he would faint in any minute.

Gently digging his thumbs inside her pants, he pulled the fabric off, revealing the soft flesh of her thighs and the round toned muscle of her rear, barely covered with a small white panties. He broke the kiss that joined them together, gasping for air, icy blue eyes looking up to his goddess, asking her with his sight if it was okay...

Suddenly, in a quick movement, she untangled herself from him, getting up and out of bed, leaving him completely shocked and aroused. Did he do something wrong!? He opened his mouth, terrified of pushing her away, trying to stammer a rain of apologies to her, sitting down in bed quick like a spring. She quickly covered his mouth with the full palm of her hand, quieting him down.

He stared at her with confusion.

"Shh..." Maka shushed him down, slowly uncovering his mouth with a caress of her fingertips, keeping him quiet. His large blue eyes stared at her with the attention of a passionate student would do with a teacher, and in some way she was indeed one. He had no clue... and she knew far enough.

It was hard not to feel like a predator, taking advantage of him, but she had to remind herself he wasnt a child anymore. His eyes were not innocent at all... they had a sharp look of hunger, a constant barely restrained passion, a desire she needed to feel desperately.

Stepping a couple feet away from bed, she took off her now loose pants completely, removing them from her ankles with her feet. Her emerald eyes glanced at him, watching how his full body shook slightly, probably a shiver. Walking towards him again, Maka reached for both of his hands, pulling him close so he would sit at the edge of bed, before placing them on her last garment. True, she could take them off herself, she could strip him naked from his own pants and have her way with him as she so much desired... but she didnt want that. She wanted him to do it.

His trembling hands grasped the sides of her cotton panties, eyes fixed on the garment, wide open an expectant, mouth partly open in anticipation. Her hands moved to his shoulders, caressing his naked skin with one hand while the other moved up to his head, fingers digging through the soft locks of pink hair. She would wait for him, she would move at his pace, even if she was the one leading. She wanted to feel him, his passion and his fear, his love and his innocence, his devotion and his madness, all of him, pure and unrestrained.

After a moment that felt way too long for comfort, Crona's hands started to move down, pulling off the last fabric covering her body. His attentive eyes followed the trail of the white underwear, through her legs and small feet, letting it drop before tracing back up. She wasnt sure what to expect, how would he react, and the possibility of him fainting was very real. She was ready for that, although quite frustrating, it could happen with him. So, Maka stood there with one hand on his shoulder and the other caressing his head, waiting for him.

Much to her surprise, the swordsman leaned over to her, closing his eyes, sliding closer to her until his mouth and nose buried against her stomach. His hands slithered through the skin of her legs, long fingers resting on the sides of her hips before moving up to her lower back, hugging her tightly. He took a deep breath against her stomach, his warm respiration tickling her sensitive skin. Another deep breath, eyes calmly closed, he seemed in some sort of trance she wasnt sure she wanted to pull him out of. He looked... so at peace, so calm and comfortable just by breathing against her... was it her scent? Although they werent resonating, she had the strangest feeling it was just that... he liked her scent.

Slowly, the sharp nose of the swordsman gently rubbed close to her bellybutton, parting his lips before softly kissing her lower stomach. His wet warm tongue forced a shiver down her body, her hands grasping him tighter just to keep herself from moving too much. His hands, holding her tightly against him, grasped her flesh with possessiveness. His mouth was too close to the area that needed him the most, and she had to bit down her lower lip to stop herself from forcing him down further. Yet, his hands trailed down through her back, tentative caresses of his full palm moving in circles, slowly reaching the tender firm flesh of her ass. Her hand grasped his hair in a fistful, unconsciously pulling from him slightly. He groaned against her lower stomach, his mouth kissing and sucking the skin below her navel, his left hand firmly holding her from behind.

Gasping for air, the scythe meister barely noticed Crona's right hand sliding off her body, towards the prominent bulge of his loose black pants. He gave himself a hard squeeze, his fist closing around the swollen organ and seemingly crushing it in his palm. He groaned again, but this time there was an undertone of pain in it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, staring down at him with worry. He quickly released himself, as if caught doing something wrong. He slowly tore his face away from her flesh, his eyes glancing at her from below with a some kind of stupor, looking slightly drunk. Drunk of what?

"Y-Yes... it j-just hurts a bit..." He reassured her, his voice sounding hoarse and husky. Maka couldnt think of a sound more erotic than his voice, talking in that tone to her.

Her eyes moved down again to his pants, the last garment separating them, the last wall preventing them from moving towards a road with no return. If that garment was off, she was sure there would be no way back, ever. But that knowledge had no use now... she had made her choice a long time ago.

With determination flooding her eyes, Maka grabbed one of the pillows in bed, tossing it on the floor between Crona's legs. There, under the swordsman attentive yet confused look, she grabbed the elastic waistband of his pants and tug it off. He understood right away, wide open shocked eyes staring at her in bewilderment, his hips moving slightly up so she could slide the garment away, pulling it off completely. She stared at him, his feminine strong body contrasted greatly, like a perfect mixture between the delicate elegance of a woman's body, merged with the sturdiness and rough edges of a male. In his own way, he was absolutely beautiful, and unbearably attractive. Her respiration accelerated, feeling saliva pooling inside her mouth in anticipation, her hands moist with sweat, anxious and eager.

Maka kneeled down in front of him, using the pillow on the floor as a cushion for her knees. She wanted him to have that experience with her, but she would be lying if she said she didnt desire it. Her hands moved towards his eager sex, palms closing around it, feeling the heat of his flesh, hard as iron. Was that a side-effect of his black blood? She looked up, searching for his eyes, noticing how he was looking down at her with wide unfocused eyes, shocked, mouth slightly parted. He had a complete look of disbelief in his face, and she couldnt help but smile. She had daydreamed with that moment for so long... and it was so much exceeding her expectations. Had he been wishing for this to happen as bad as her? For how long? Surely longer than her...

"W-wait..." Crona gasped, his face showing a mixture between lust and fear, desire and confusion. He tried to slid away from her, but she held him in place with one of her hands holding him by his thigh, the other tightly grasping the base of his hardened sex.

"We've waited enough" She growled through her teeth, her hand slowly moving up and down his erection, feeling the soft smooth skin moving through her fingers. She didnt need any other evidence of his wants and desires than the one pulsing against her palm, and those hungry blue eyes feasting on her despite the fear.

Crona's hands moved down to the bedsheets, holding into them for dear life, tightly clenched fists keeping him in place. He was trembling, she could feel that with the hand holding his thigh, but it wasnt because of fear... not entirely. His face held a dusky tone of red, mouth slightly open, trying to cope his breathing just to not hyperventilate. He wanted this, as much as her, and that was enough for Maka to collect her resolve, moving her hands up and down his shaft until little beads of clear liquid moistened his flared head. Her eyes were fixed on his swollen organ, how it pulsed in her palms, hard and hot, throbbing with the unconscious clenching of his pelvic muscles. She couldnt wait to have him inside her...

Looking up to him again, her emerald green eyes searched for his own icy blue, wide open and shocked. She wanted to see him, to see his reaction, every movement of his eyes, every quiver of his lips, she wanted to keep that memory with her forever. There, with her eyes forcing him to keep contact, the scythe meister opened her mouth and slowly licked the tip of his sex. He jumped in his spot, hands holding tighter to the bedsheets below, as if waiting for her actions to hurt. Oh no, she would teach him... she wanted to make up for five years of missing passion.

Slowly, just to not scare him, she closed her mouth around the soft head, giving him a gentle suck. He squeaked, impressed eyes staring down at her, losing focus. His scared look slowly turned hazy again, his mouth still slightly parted, panting quietly. Her tongue prepared him with a coat of saliva, spreading it down his erected member with her hands. She could tell he had taken a bath, his flesh tasting clean, yet she could still smell the musky natural scent of his skin. She was tempted to close her eyes and abandon herself to the feeling of him inside her mouth, but she wanted to see him, to enjoy the look of his face twisting with pleasure. It was such a rare thing to see in him... pleasure. She wanted to see him drowning in it.

In one firm movement, she took him inside her mouth as much as she could, covering with her hand what she couldnt fit. Crona dropped a sudden loud moan, followed by a low hiss, his hips jumping in reflex against her. The unexpected thrust on her mouth almost forced a gag on her, but she held it in, not wanting to scare him. Instead, she dropped the grip on his thigh to grab his hipbone, keeping him from ramming against her throat. He seemed to understand what she wanted, keeping his hips completely still, his back arching over her. The swordsman groaned in a mixture of what seemed pleasure and pain, biting down his lower lip in a vague attempt to quiet himself down. Didnt he know? She wanted him to scream.

As her right hand gripped on his hip to keep him still, her left hand helped her to stimulate the remaining skin that her mouth couldnt reach. Rubbing her tongue on the base of his cock, she bobbed her head up and down in slow torturous movement, allowing her saliva to moisture him. It was just a little taste... unfortunately. If she dared to get serious on her job, the swordsman wouldnt last a minute. It was his first time... and she didnt want it to end so soon. Surprisingly, a quivering hand reached to the back of her head, bony fingers digging in her blonde hair, caressing her scalp. Crona was struggling to keep his eyes open, staring down at her with half closed eyes. He looked close to the edge of pleasure, his face showing a look of pain mixed with restrained hunger. His enticing parted lips, gasping in labored short breaths, combined with the pleading look of his eyes... it was the most erotic sight in the world for her. How did she look for him? Was it just as erotic? She would never be the sensual type of girl in bed, she was average at best... would that be enough for him?

The hand caressing her head closed on her hair in a fistful, holding into her with a painless grip. A loud moan slithered through the swordsman tightly closed teeth, his eyes opening slightly just so she could see them filled with lust. Maka tightened the grip on her lips against his throbbing flesh, increasing the pace of her movement, her hand doing a twist on the base of his arousal. She knew what she was doing, and Crona was at that moment a victim of her merciless experience.

"Maka... I..." He hissed, his eyes losing focus, closing again while his face twisted in a look of unbearable pleasure. His body started to tremble...

The scythe meister pulled him out of her mouth, breaking all contact with his close to bursting member. Her hands rested on his thighs, collecting her breath, looking up at him who gritted his teeth, opening his eyes with confused shock. He frowned, staring at her with disbelief, almost looking hurt. She couldnt help but smile at him, using the back of her hand to clear the saliva moistening her chin.

"You're not finishing just yet" Maka smiled at him, swallowing the remnants of his taste in her mouth, trying to clear the feeling of emptiness he had left in her throat.

The swordsman eyes held a fierce look of frustration, but he did not complain. His hands followed the movement of her body, sliding down her back while she got back on her feet, standing in front of him. His breathing was slowly slowing down, his head seemingly clearing down from the overdose of, until now, unknown pleasure. Maka just there noticed that the swordsman had a real monster inside him, a starving one, demanding to feast on her. That monster was looking at her right now, icy blue eyes piercing her soul with a ravenous need.

"Y-you're so mean..." Crona growled, blushing with his own words, his hands moving up and down her body, caressing her back and stomach.

"I'm very mean" Maka grinned, her hands moving up to his shoulders, grasping him tightly for support. Reaching to him, the meister opened her legs to sit in the swordsman's lap, resting her weight against his pelvis. The painfully hard sex of her lover pulsed beneath her, slowly deleting the smile of her face. The scythe meister stared at him now with a serious look in her eyes. "I love you..."

Crona's blue eyes softened with her words, pulling him out of his lust-induced foggy mind. With a deep breath, the strong hands of the sword meister pulled her closer to him, holding her on a tight hug, resting his forehead on her shoulder. Maka smiled lovingly at him, her hand moving up to caress his hair and neck, enjoying the feeling of being held by him so tightly, so passionately. The male witch tore his face from her slowly, now midnight dark eyes pleading to her... pleading for what? The blonde meister stared at him in patient silence, shivering slightly when the swordsman pressed his lips on the base of her neck, kissing her.

A soft moan escaped her lips, as her lover licked down the artery of her neck, gently teeth nibbling her sensitive flesh, warm breath tickling down her skin. Her hands held him in a tight hug, fingers clawing on his skin, leaning her head to her side so he could have more access. The swordsman licked his way through the base of her neck to her earlobe, kissing it gently.

"Resonate with me..." He whispered against her ear, forcing a hard shiver down her spine. How much she had missed that, his soft voice, his husky deep whispers, inviting her into his arms. There was no way she could refuse.

Moving up her hands to his head, she held him in a tight grasp of his hair, joining her forehead against his own. He let out a loud sigh, a vague attempt to release some of the built up steam of desire, while his hands moved up to held her face, rough thumbs caressing her cheeks. Maka took her time to control her breathing, slowly joining Crona's pace in deep long deep intakes of air, both of their chests moving against each other at the same time. Their joined expertise, their unexplainable long time connection, their natural compatibility, everything worked in their favor for even their hearts beat at the same rhythm. Without a word, their souls effortlessly joined together in a soul resonance that now was so much different than before.

They were the same, the same persons, the same souls. The courageous stubborn grigori soul, melting with a shy sensitive witch soul. Both of their winged souls holding each other as if they belonged together, like two parts of a whole. Their thoughts traveled fluently through their minds, their feelings resonated deep inside them, growing and feeding at each other, amplifying. The feelings of need, desperate want, choking desire, of hungry unrestrained love... like two lovers separated for a lifetime, joining together at last. The overwhelming passion rushing through their minds, the shared coordinated thoughts, allowed them to throw away every trace of doubt, every wall of shame or doubt. They wanted this, they needed this, it was everything Maka had to know.

Silently, the scythe meister kneeled in bed, lifting up her body from the swordsman's lap. Blindly, her hand traced down through his torso all the way to his aching cock, holding him firmly in a tight grasp, placing the tip of his head against her pulsing entrance. She felt his fear, like a little spark pulsing shortly in the middle of the dark, but that was okay... she was afraid too. It may not be her first time, but Crona was tearing away the remnants of her innocence. The innocence of fairy tale love, of everlasting "happily forever" endings. Love was no fairy tale, love was a hungry unstable monster demanding to be satiated. Love was a mad, ravenous dragon destroying every trace of her childhood beliefs, burning away the naive thoughts of blind loyalty and quiet resignation. Love was a worshipping fool, a starving faithtful, it was the shrine of that dark church where they met. Love was Crona, and she was ready to give herself to him, body and soul.

As her hips moved down effortlessly, Maka forced herself to kept her eyes open while his cock slid inside her. His girth stretched her moist canal, making her grip tightly on the swordsman's shoulders, clawing at his flesh, dropping all of her weight on him. She gasped, a loud moan tearing out of her throat, feeling his iron hard flesh filling her insides. The burst of pleasure almost forced her eyes shut, yet she fought to keep herself aware, staring at Crona's face. He was stiffly still, hands holding her cheeks, his forehead still pressed against her own. His eyes, deep midnight dark, hazy and unfocused with lust, never lost sight of her. He was holding his breath, his chest completely still, his mind was quiet.

Getting used to the feeling of his girth inside her, Maka searched for his lips, kissing him softly. He fell in somewhat of a shock, but he was still there, she could feel his aware soul despite the lack of thoughts. His lips were unresponsive for a couple seconds, before staring to slowly kiss her back. She couldnt help but think it was funny, almost as if he had shut down for a second. Finally, his hands started moving from her face to her neck, down to her chest, caressing softly her breasts before moving to her back, holding her tight against him. He groaned, a dark husky guttural sound resonating in the room, as his arms held her in a fierce grip, breaking the kiss between them. He, who was usually a anxious ball of unending thoughts of doubt and uncertainty, was comfortably silent. They didnt need to think, to talk, their resonance was everything they needed.

Helping his inexperience, the scythe meister supported her weight on her knees at each side of his wide hips, starting to move. All the way up, and slowly back down on top of him, gasping with the until now unknown feeling of his flesh inside her. Having him fitting so perfectly inside her, rubbing and touching every sensitive spot, it felt way too good. She clenched the muscles of her pelvis, squeezing him inside her, tearing off a loud moan out of his throat. His hands quickly moved down to her hips, pushing her down, thrusting her insides to dive as deep as he could. He bit down her lip, trying not to scream, but a second thrust finally ended her silence. She didnt like to be loud, for her the senseless screaming was just an act of porn actresses, but right there she couldnt help it. Maka bit down her lower lip, groaning through tightly closed teeth, choking another moan as the swordsman instinctively thrusted inside her.

Crona leaned over her, placing both of his feet on the floor, sliding closer to the edge of bed to have more grip. His movement was uncoordinated at first, but her resonance helped him to mark the pace of their bodies. Just like in battle, they quickly found the rhythm, hips separating and joining at the same time, skyrocketing the pleasure. His hands on her hips, holding tightly on her, helped her to move against him, saving her stamina. He always looked so fragile, it was hard to remember his inhuman strength, so much that Maka attempted to slow down, only to find out Crona was moving her at will. His thrust was marked and deep, his pace fast, almost desperate. He was taking her as if it was the last time of his life he would ever have her.

Unable to keep her eyes open, the blonde meister surrounded to his fierce demands. Holding tight against him, she surrounded his body with her legs, feeling the swordsman's hands moving down to her ass, helping her move back and forth. He was panting against her neck, soft deep groans barely muffled, his soul swelling with unrestrained passion, moving faster, deeper, ripping off a loud moan out of the blonde's mouth. Her mind was turning blank, overwhelmed by the train wreck of his emotions flooding her mind and soul. He was close, she could feel it, the pleasure inside him growing sky high. Maka placed both of her hands in his shoulders, ready to pull him off, vaguely remembering they werent using protection. Just a bit more, she was so close too...

Suddenly, the swordsman started to move more slowly, easing down his rhythm until he was completely still. Maka took deep long breaths, trying to recover herself from his merciless pounding, noticing how Crona was stiff in her arms. Her hands moved up to his head, softly pulling him off her shoulder just to see his icy blue eyes looking back at her. He was scared...

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly winded, cheeks blushing a dark tone. She noticed him swallowing hard.

"T-The madness..." He gasped, frustration quickly flooding his features. He closed his eyes, moving his face away from her. "I... I felt it... I'm going to hurt you if I keep going..."

Maka frowned at his words, looking confused. Didnt she feel it? She should have, with their resonance, she should have felt it surely...

Madness, growing unrestrained, filling every pore of his body with the same rhythm of pleasure. For a moment he had lost himself in the overwhelming feeling of love and bliss, so much that he got unaware of madness dwelling inside him. If he kept going he could lose his mind, he could go into a frenzy... what if he hurt her because he was so out of himself? What if...

Maka searched for his lips again, both of her hands moving up to his face, kissing him deeply, joining her tongue to his. He groaned in surprise, holding his breath for a brief moment before melting in her embrace. Her hands moved up to his hair, holding him in fistfuls. How much he loved when she did that, it made her passion physically real, the light sparks of pain reminding him it was real. It was really happening, they were making love...

Still, the madness...

"You wont hurt me" Maka whispered against his lips, her hands tightening the grip on his hair, forcing him to pay attention to her words. "Its not madness what you feel..."

It was not? It felt just like it. How could she know? His mind slowly slipping out of control, the fuzzy thoughts, the feeling of being lightheaded, the overwhelming emotions bursting out of his soul... it was madness. It had to be.

"B-But..."

Maka smiled at him. It was that soft, patient, understanding smile that always filled him with joy. Her hair was messy, little beads of sweat running down her face and neck, falling down to her chest. Conscious of himself, he felt his own sweat running down his stomach and back, dampening his body. Suddenly, the blonde meister lifted herself off him, pulling him out of her. He hissed, the absence of her heat and damp insides making him feel uncomfortable.

"Lay down" She ordered, her hair pointing out to the bed and pillows far away from them. Like an obedient servant, he moved in bed until his full large body was resting on the bedsheets. The emerald eyes of the blonde meister seemed to ignite with a fire that send goosebumps down his back. He took a deep breath, trying to ease down the violent pumping of his heart.

Without another word, Maka crawled towards him, taking his sex in her hands and swiftly sitting back down on him, sliding back inside her in one movement. He groaned, both of his hands going down to hold her by her waist, until her hands grabbed him by his wrist, pinning him down.

"Let yourself go..." She whispered, both of her hands tightly holding him down, emerald eyes staring down at him with a determined frown. A shiver ran down the swordsman's spine, thinking how unbearably erotic was to see her on top of him, having control. "Trust me..."

"I trust you..." He panted, relaxing under her grasp. It was okay, if Maka had control, it would be okay. He could trust her. He believed in her.

Her hips started to move against his own, up and down slowly, forcing him to drop his head against the bed. The position allowed him to relax, focusing on the tight grasp of her hands on his wrists, her hips moving against his own, the wet heat of her insides pouring love on his hard desire, moistening his skin, helping them to move faster. Maka leaned down on him, joining her forehead against his own, grinding down to take him deeper inside her. Crona arched his back, joining her thrust with his own, using the resonance between them to synchronize their movement. He could feel how she tightened the grip on his wrist, she liked when he moved along with her. Separating his hips from the bed, he shove a deep thrust inside her, her soft moans turning into a loud scream everytime he managed to get all the way in.

Closing his eyes, surrendering to the growing feeling of passion, he dropped himself to Maka's soul, letting her guide his own. The blonde meister kept him tightly held in place, closing her eyes along with him, resting her head on the crook of his neck while her whole body took him deeper with every thrust. Sweat ran down her head and neck, moistening her skin, and soon enough she released his wrist so she could grab him by his hair in tight fistfuls, demanding more of him. His now free hands quickly searched for her body, one hand going up to her hair, tangling his long fingers in her wheat blonde locks, while the other moved down to her hip, forcing her up and down faster on him.

Again, the madness, crawling from the back of his mind. It wasnt madness, it wasnt madness, he had to believe that, he had to believe in her. As the pace of their bodies quickened, his mind slipped further into that blur, like a fogginess where there was nothing but hunger and need. It felt so much like madness, but she said it wasnt... he had to believe that, he had to let go. As his soul resonated with her own, sending his inebriating emotions to her, his lips searched for her own in a deep heated kiss. The taste of her, her tongue moving against his own, her sweat dampening his chest, translucent beads of precum moistening her insides. Everything was warm and wet, the sound of their bodies moving against each other resonating in the empty room. His mind slipped further, slowly quieting his doubts and fears, leaving space for his madness to take over.

Harder, faster, deeper. Their minds and souls joined in a mad dance of passion. All reason abandoned their actions, as heat increased, so did their reckless search for each other's pleasure. Crona held into her with both of his hands in her hair, Maka gripping tightly on his own as her body grind against him fiercely. Their joined minds grew quiet, focused on their pleasure. Their merged soul swelled with growing desire, with lustful need, surrendering completely to the their sinful love.

Crona closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth, the muscles of his stomach tightening as his hips jumped out of bed, thrusting with a mad pace. Logic abandoned every act as his body started to tremble, uncontrollably. Maka moaned against his ear, feeling in her body the same bursting sensation he was victim of. A vague thought of stopping and moving away, was quickly silenced by the overwhelming weight of that dominating desire. It was too strong, it had taken control of both of them. It was madness, taking over them, drowning every restrain. Her body arched in his arms, hands moving down to his shoulders, clawing at his skin. The enticing spark of pain forced a loud growl out of his throat, his hips ramming against her. Maka screamed, stiffening on top of him, grinding down to take him deeper, her insides clenching his cock in hard tight spasms.

He held her hard against him, both of his arms surrounding her body in a tight hug, as his trembling muscles reached their peak. The overwhelming sensation ended with a loud thunder, blinding his sight, turning off every thought as a warm heat rushed through his body, forcing a sudden jerk on him. Crona choked a scream on his throat, the muscles of his abdomen churning, helping him to pump out the long streams of his overflowing passion inside her. The scythe meister whimpered in his arms, eyes tightly closed, trembling and vulnerable. The swordsman held her against his chest, feeling just the same.

"I love you" Maka whispered, holding tight on him. Her voice quivered slightly, holding back the threat of tears.

"I love you" Crona whimpered, overwhelmed by the fading emotions on his body, light tears running down his cheek. He didnt mean to cry, he had no idea why he was crying... he was happy beyond words. Why was he crying?

"I love you" The blonde meister answered back, reaching up to his lips, kissing him deeply. They moaned against each other, tired, drained, pleased.

"I love you..." The swordsman gasped through their joined lips, his hands moving down to caress her body, fingers digging through soft skin, leaving red marks on her flesh.

His black blood, still rushing a mad pace through his veins, kept him stiff and throbbing inside his goddess. A spark of renewed pleasure tickled down his body, forcing a thrust inside her. The scythe meister stared down at him with wide open eyes, looking surprised. He kissed her again, choking down every sound or complain from her, knowing what she wanted. She wanted him.

He wanted her.

As he renewed his movement, the filling of her insides flooding out of her with every thrust, gripping her tightly against him, their souls started to sing again the background music of their mad waltz.

It was a dance that attempted to make up for years of silent desire, of crushed passion, of hidden love. There was no act, no matter how long, to compensate the missed time, the forever lost memories, the wasted years...

But souls didnt understand reason, time or physical effort.

Madness was in the air, loose and unrestrained, orchestrating a loud music they were forced to dance.

There was no control.