Disclaimer! I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters. Everything written portrays the borrowed characters as accurately as I possibly can. Warning: There is mildly mature language within this chapter.
Chapter1: When Shit Hits the…Curtains?
Most days at The Winged Nest are demanding, but rewarding for Maka. However, today was especially difficult and without reward. Maka has worked at her parent's bed and breakfast for as long as she can remember and her only career plans include taking over this business one day. As a result, she enjoys every day she works no matter how challenging the day is, but today is the only exception. A new employee had started work with them today. Now, usually Maka has no difficulties with this situation at all, in fact it's one of the easier aspects of her job. However, the man who started with them today was nothing like the employees they tend to hire, so her usual scripted approach was shattered within the very first minute of interaction with him.
Presently, she sits at the kitchen table of the main house eating cup noodles and trying to salvage even just a small shred of what was left of her good mood from earlier today. All the while, she notes how thankful she is to have worn her favorite uniform bottoms, dress pants, since they offer her both optimal comfort and full range of motion. Because of this, she currently sits with one foot under her bum while eagerly hunching over her instant ramen. Normally, she would cook a proper meal for herself, but given the circumstances, she knew she didn't have the patience for any actual cooking. So, she continues to eat while grumbling complaints under her breath about the silver haired man.
"Wow. You're so ladylike."
The sarcastic and lazy drawl came out of nowhere, but she didn't need to look to know who it was. Soul. She instantly felt her body tense as her irritation and anger came back to her in full force. She snapped her head in his direction, noodles still hanging from her mouth, and shot him the most venomous glare she'd ever given, which was impressive given how much her father irritates her on a daily basis. She slurps the hanging noodles while maintaining this glare and swallows them, ready to slap that smug look off of his face.
"You know," she begins, nearly grinding her teeth to dust to keep from actually slapping him, "I would think a little time alone wouldn't be too much to ask for."
She instantly regrets having said anything at all as she sees his lips shift into an amused, mocking smile.
"You know," he starts, his smile only growing as he notices her further irritation, "I might be mistaken, but I could swear I remember you telling me that the main house is specifically for staff only in that suffocating welcome speech of yours, so I'm pretty sure it's not a crime for me to be here."
She feels her face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anger at this and whips her head away quicker than he can notice this reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her even more upset.
"I did say that," she says tensely, trying to calm herself, "but I don't see how my welcome speech was suffocating. Greeting new workers and helping them is one of my favorite parts of the job and new workers always enjoy it. I have gotten nothing but compliments on my work."
She hadn't realized it, but her head was now raised in an indignant manner as she said this and she could sense his amusement by this immediately.
"Well then," he says deliberately and she can already hear the sarcasm dripping from his words, "my apologies, princess. I didn't realize how loved you are by all across the land. Wouldn't want daddy to come running in chasing me out of the kingdom to keep his dear, lovely prin-"
He's cut off mid-sentence when she chucks the remainder of her cup noodles, still hot, toward his face. His eyes go wide with shock and he quickly dodges it, but it flies past him and straight into the white curtains and glass window of the door he had just come through. The window, she's not worried about, but the curtains are a different story. She immediately regrets letting her temper get the best of her, as her face shifts into dread. Soul has already moved past shock and is now bent over, holding his abdomen with laughter. She notices this and feels her blood boil. She's out of her seat now, not sure where her chair went, and she's shoving him out of his laughter. She grabs a fistful of his shirt collar and moves only inches from his face with her teeth clenched. He can see her features clearly and despite her anger, he realizes how beautifully green her eyes are in contrast to her ashy blond hair. However, he doesn't have time to fully process this information as she shoves him away from her quicker than she grabbed him. She retreats back to the table to put her chair back in place.
"Look," She starts, clearly still agitated, "I let myself get too worked up and things went too far. For that, I apologize, but you need to understand my position. I correct you because it is my job. When I show you how to do things, I expect you to do them properly, not in some roundabout way."
Soul looks at her for a second without saying anything, hiding the bit of irritation she thought she saw just now before speaking, "I only did it differently because the way you did it was longer. I still did the same thing correctly. I just did it in my own way and, with all due respect, more efficiently. I mean, no offense, but both of our stacks of towels looked exactly the same and I still finished before you."
She feels her anger rise again, but she bites it back. She's not upset because of what he said, but because she knows he's right.
"Okay," she says indignantly, "maybe, possibly, in some small way you're right…BUT! I still need you to be respectful."
She looks at him pointedly with warning and he laughs.
"Okay," he says with his hands up in peace, "I get it. I didn't exactly explain it that way the first time. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
She feels the tension leave her body for a brief moment before it settles back in again with the realization that she had forgotten the situation with the dirty window, noodle mess on the floor, and white curtains…oh, the white curtains. They'll probably stain, especially now that the mess has had time to settle into the fabric. She lets out a deep, long sigh as she processes this information.
"Bright side," she begins with forced cheer, "we settled this dispute and are, hopefully, on a better track now. Down side is that I don't think I'll be able to get that stain out of the curtains. Luckily, they're only the curtains for the main house so it's not that big of a deal if we hold off on replacing them for a bit."
"Just sucks that you have to replace them in the first place is what you're getting at, though, right?" Soul says in a calm tone, attempting to ease the tension he can sense in her.
"Yup."
With this response, Soul takes initiative to start cleaning it up. He does feel partially responsible for knowingly riling her up the way he did, but how was he supposed to know she'd go that far?
"Where are the cleaning supplies?" Soul asks as he steps around the puddle of ramen noodles and broth and past the table to where Maka is now standing.
"I'll grab them. I just need you to help me clean it…if you don't mind."
Soul chuckles at that last minute comment at the end.
"Well, it's the least I could do after pissin' you off so badly."
Maka mutters a 'thanks' as she motions for him to follow her. They walk just past the kitchen where the lounge begins toward a small closet. She opens it and begins handing him supplies. They go back to the mess and she removes the curtains from the curtain rod.
"Alright," she says in a peppy, firm tone, "I'm gonna go attempt to get this stain out. I just need you to get this mess clea-"
Soul stops her before she can finish, "I think I might be able to get that stain out."
She's genuinely shocked by his statement, simply staring at him as if he'd just told her that the sky was falling. He gives her a sour look before snatching the curtains from her hands.
"What?" she says innocently, "I just wasn't expecting you to say that. I wasn't making fun of you. No need to get upset."
She giggles a little bit when he throws a mocking face her direction.
"So I'll just be in the kitchen taking care of this stain." Soul says this matter-of-factly and Maka doesn't even want to ask how, knowing it'll just waste more time.
"Okay, I'll get this cleaned up real quick and try to help you however I can."
The ramen mess on the floor and window is cleaned up in no time and soon she's in the kitchen, watching Soul mix some things using kitchen ingredients in different steps and processes. Soon, he finishes his work and the curtains look as though it never happened. Maka is in awe of having witnessed this. She stares at him for a good minute, taking in his silver mess of hair and his deep red eyes. He offers a slanted smirk, clearly proud of himself.
"I'm legitimately impressed." Maka says still reeling from this situation. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Eh," Soul shrugs, "I've worked a lot of different jobs and I had to pick up a lot of different skills along the way."
"Pfft," Maka laughs, "that's not vague or mysterious at all."
"I'm not as interesting as I make myself sound, trust me. I've just always been used to moving around a lot since I was kid is all."
He shrugs his shoulders again and offers a quick smile as he gets up to put the curtains back up on the curtain rod.
"Anyway," he says, wanting to take the attention away from himself, "your parents own this place, right?"
"Yeah," Maka says, beaming with pride, "I practically grew up here with how often we spent time here. I can't imagine a life without this place. For me, it's almost like my parents didn't ever have anything other than this place."
"So I kind of met your dad briefly, but I never met your mom…" Soul trails off, not really sure how to go about asking this and fearing that the answer could be depressing.
"Oh, Mama just takes care of all the major business meetings." Maka says simply, "We don't trust Papa to take care of those aspects of the business properly. She's usually gone, but every now and again, I do get to see her, but you probably won't meet her for a long time, if at all."
She shrugs and Soul simply nods in acknowledgement. Maka almost continues on to tell him how much she idolizes her mom and how she wants to follow in her footsteps with the business one day, but she stops herself. Realization hits her of the fact that she has shared some borderline personal aspects about herself, a point she has never violated in conversation with employees. She has always been very good at keeping things very professional, but somehow she let her guard down. Despite all her rage and irritation with him earlier today, she has felt the most comfortable with him than with anyone else before. She hates how cliché it sounds, but she feels as though there's this connection with him somehow and this fact alone both excites her and terrifies her.