A/N: So this chapter is kind of mature. There are sexual references, but nothing explicit. It is rated T , and not M (or K) for a reason.

She and Soul were spending another day, in the library. She was perusing and looking through the shelves, while he would attempt to play on the organ in the back of the room. She and Soul had sort of picked up a silent rhythm. In their relationship, whatever it was, someone did not always need to talk. On the shelves, she had found many classics, both fiction, and non-fiction, and she enjoyed skimming through them, finding books to read later. Soul's brother had taken a liking to many different genres, a popular one was music history.

She had found a section, with music compositions. There were many books filled with musical compositions, and she had found a classical music section. There were many books detailing various techniques and positions for the violin, and some for the organ, which Soul was playing.

She showed Soul, the arrangements and he smiled.

"My brother was a talented violin player. He had taught himself, and gone throw all of these books, learning techniques, and playing classical compositions for our parents."

"And the arrangement for the organ." Soul smiled sadly,

"Wesley always tried to get me to play the arranged compositions, but I dislike playing music already written on paper. My parents immensely disapproved this, but that's why I liked it all the more."

Maka giggles.

"What is so funny?"

"It is hard to picture you as a rebellious teenager."

He smoothens his hair, "I only wanted my parents to notice me."

"And so you composed."

"Not exactly. I played what I was feeling. And most of the time, it was dark, and violent." He grins, "I think my parents were scared of the music , but Wesley loved it. He always said that I was the more talented of us two, but that was a lie. You should have seen him with the violin."

"Could you play me something?" She pauses and follows up, "Something from the heart." When he remains silent, she adds another thought, "You don't have to do it if you are uncomfortable. Or if your arm doesn't feel up for it."

"No. I've been working on something for you."

"For me?"

"I wanted to show you how I feel about you." Maka smiles, but Soul is serious, his eyes reflecting the ceiling light. He takes a deep breath, and starts playing. It is a simple melody, but haunting. It is a longing, and a desire. She closes her eyes, as she lets the notes echo throughout her head. It is peaceful one second, then intense the next. It ends with three clear rings, and she opens her eyes, and looks into his. They are clear, reflecting her eyes, and she feels love.

"Did you like…" Before he can finish his sentence, her lips come crashing down on his his. He stands up, and they pull apart. She motions to move out of the study room, and rushes him along, but he stands there.

"Wait. Maka." His hand grasps her thin wrist tightly, as if he is afraid of her letting go. "I'm sorry for ignoring you before. And trapping you here, while it hasn't felt too much like a prison for the last few weeks. I just can't let you go, I'm afraid of letting you go. I… I love you."

"I love you, too."

With her permission, he smashes his lips on hers, hungrier this time, plunging his tongue into her mouth.

"Mmm." Maka quietly moans, pushing him away for a second.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No." She wordlessly leads him back to the bedroom, and locks his bedroom door.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I want to." Maka took her time to admire Soul. She would be lying if she said she hadn't noticed him before. Even over his coat, Maka could tell he had some serious muscles.

"Will you refuse me if I ask you to take you shirt off now?" She teases, raising an eyebrow.

"No Ma'am." He answer, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Wait, shouldn't you take your scarf off first?" His face hardens for a second, but he nods.

"You can take it off." She attempts untying the ascot from his neck, but fails. He chuckles and takes it off himself. Maka notices another set of scars, along his neck. More uniform, there are three slits on the sides of his neck. She chooses not to question him, instead kissing them, and he heats up. She chuckles at his blush, and starts to take her own coat off.

"This is taking a while." She lets out a short bark-like laugh.

"A little impatient, Soul? That's because you have so many buttons."

"Look who's talking. I believe you have even more than I do."

"Excuse you, this is professional attire." Soul smirks, and Maka smiles. Another smaller stretch of silence passes, before Maka chooses to speak up.

"We can just talk, you know, if you're uncomfortable." She sits down on his bed.

"What's your favorite color?"

"That's the question you chose to ask me?"

"I realized I didnt know it." She giggles, it was a cute answer.

"My favorite color is blue, like the ocean. Ever-changing, free, so powerful." she mused, "There isn't anything not to like about the ocean. And your preferred colour?"

"If you asked me a long time ago, I would have said red. But now the only thing I can associate red with is the jarring colour of blood."

"And now?"

"Well, right now it seems to be green, probably the shade of your eyes."

She giggles again, and kisses him, her moaning telling him to pick up the pace taking, her shirt off, as she had already finished her removal, now covering herself with the blanket. When his tank top finally came off, she looked at his scar.

"Can I…" Touch it.

He nods, and she lightly traces the scar's outline, causing groans. She moves her head down and kisses along his scar, trying to take his pain. Her tears leak out onto his chest.

"I'm sorry, but I'm happy you're here with me now." For the first time in a long time, Soul could agree.