Maka got to the keypad, her fingers hovering over the numbers, before she heard the car door open. Maybe it was what she was hoping for since there was no reason it should really bring her attention away from her task. Dozens of car doors opened and closed on this street, and it could be any one of them.
Ordinary.
Mundane.
Expected.
Until her name caught her almost immediately after. "Maka, wait–"
She had to admit it wasn't really a maybe now, especially as her heart started very distinctive somersaults as she turned and saw Soul only a few steps away, his hand outstretched for her. "What is it?"
"Can I…" His fingertips were so light against her elbow, barely making themselves known through the fabric of her jacket. "Just for a second– can I hold you?"
Her eyes widened as her brain scrambled for which one meant more to her: the idea that he was asking for permission for something so simple or the fact that he was true to his word– slow. She nodded, still slightly dumbfounded even as he inched closer. Every move he made came with enough time for her to resist, even though that was the furthest thing from her mind.
There was fear that it would be nothing more than perfunctory, something stiff and loveless. Instead, it started gently, as if he was afraid to crush her. As she exhaled, allowing her body to relax against him, his grip tightened. Soul was firmly grasping onto her, one arm across her shoulders while the other wrapped around the middle of her back. His fingers found purchase on her jacket, gathering the fabric in an attempt to keep the closeness. Maka reciprocated, arms circling his waist as she pressed her cheek against his chest.
"Are you alright?" she murmured.
"Yeah," he answered with a weak sigh. "I…" His cheek fell, resting on her head. "The doctor told me to do something shitty today and I thought– I was sure it'd stick with me, but it's not. It's not somethin' I'm worried about because all I could think about was… was needin' this." His breath toyed with her tresses, making them tremble slightly just like the air from his lungs. "So, thanks. Thanks for letting me have this for just a minute."
She dug her face closer, memorizing that slight earthiness to his scent that paired so perfectly with the clean laundry smell of his t-shirt. "Take another minute then."
His thanks came with the renewal of his grip, blurring the line between neediness and tenderness. That balance seemed impossible, but Soul held it just as tightly as he did her. The winter felt worse as he pulled away, the cold air sucking between them and dissolving the layer of his warmth that she'd been so happy to steal. His fingers still paused at her elbows, holding her steady in front of him for another moment as he gazed down at her. "Bye."
For some reason that brought a tender laugh to her lips, lighting up her smile. "If you need something like that… Well, I think hugging is okay no matter what, Soul."
He shrugged, his own grin coming back. "I think I liked the look on your face when I asked."
There was that thunder in her chest again, and she bashfully pressed him away to turn back to the keypad. "You better go get Layla."
He hummed out contentment before laughing. "Yeah, before her and the girls get matching tattoos or somethin'."
A little regret was laced in the way his shoes scuffed against the concrete, and Maka held onto it as she put in the door code. The warmth of the building was nothing compared to the lingering memory, her face flushing with each step up the stairwell towards their second floor apartment. She fiddled her keys out of the zipper pocket in her jacket as she ascended.
All this over a hug! Maka wanted to slap a hand to her face but her palm just stuck, cradling the blush that was there. It's like it should feel stupid, but it feels…
Exhilarating.
Meaningful.
Oh so very necessary.
Even though her feet settled on solid ground, her heart refused to follow as she moved towards her door to unlock it. She was slow, savoring the outside world as if all of it would change as soon as she was locked away back in the apartment. As soon as she opened the door she could hear the water running in the kitchen. "Hi, Papa."
It stopped instantly, footsteps resounding in the silence of its absence. Spirit suddenly popped into view, still stuck in the doorway as he appraised her. "I thought you said you were going running."
That distinctively lacked the questioning that it should, making Maka bristle. "I did, for a little."
Spirit raised his eyebrows. "Then why did a man just drop you off?"
Whatever warmth she had been clinging to—celebrating—instantly fizzled from the chill in her father's voice. The clock ran backwards, Maka suddenly becoming a teenager again. "I-I only ran until I saw him and then–" She cut herself off, the muddling on her tongue becoming poisonous and bitter.
"I thought you said you weren't dating."
Forget poison– the mess suddenly turned to venom, flying off her tongue: "I don't have to explain myself to you!" He jumped, mouth gaping for a moment but before he could form another word, Maka let the rest of the black, oily chaos jut from her lips. "I am not a child! I went out, and I met someone, end of story. I shouldn't have to wonder if you're watching me from the curtains!"
Spirit threw a hand over his shoulder. "It's not hard when you're making that kind of display on the streets, Maka!"
"Display?" Maka shrieked. "Him hugging me is a display? Are we puritans now?" She scoffed before starting quick footsteps past the entryway and into the living room, trying to break free to her bedroom. She just made it to the threshold before he managed to snag her elbow, forcing her to snap her head back towards him. Spirit's mouth gaped again and Maka spat the last piece of vitriol she had waiting. "If that's such a sin, I wonder where cheating on your wife falls!"
That lightning strike hit true, making Spirit flinch away and release her.
"I'm not doing anything wrong– he's not doing anything wrong!" She hated the justification coming from her lips, her hands clenched into fists that left crescent moons pressed into her palms. "So don't you dare–" That was all she could manage before the fiery tears hit her cheeks and the heartache trapped the rest in her throat. The only thing she could manage was getting through the door and slamming it behind her.
I have been an adult since the divorce.
Or maybe even before then since the fighting… Honestly there was so much of it going on that who did I have to go to with my problems? It just seemed overkill to add to their pile—Mama dealing with infidelity and Papa dealing with his urges—so I kept quiet. I solved my own issues. I was the one I turned to.
But every time we have a fight? I'm a child again.
I don't understand how the world works.
I'm not being careful enough.
I can't make my own choices.
And the hypocritical nature of Papa's arguments? Ugh. It wasn't enough that I didn't trust men because of experience, but he has to try to poison me every step of the way with his outdated, histrionic warnings. Soul hugged me. I'm not saying it was some middle school, leave-enough-room-for-the-Lord type of hug, but it wasn't some lurid street-show either. It was comfort that we both needed. It was intimacy in the way we both could handle.
And after… Death, my first reaction was that huge leap: I wanted to run to Soul and just get it over with. If I'm such a fool– such a wild child then I might as well just fuck him, right? Just jump his bones and really be the impulsive, misguided girl that Papa treats me like. I mean, I didn't. I didn't even call him or text him because I almost couldn't trust myself to even say a word, but… what happens the next time I see Soul? I don't want to take this fight out on him especially since I don't even think he's ready. I'm not ready.
My heart wants the pace we're at.
It's my head that keeps jumping– reacting.
And I'm just so afraid that there's a chance one's going to ruin the other.
Soul hesitated at her door. It was closed, so technically there could be a student even though he was pretty sure this was her lunch time. On top of that, she'd been a little quiet– didn't text last night or this morning. Not that he'd obsessed over that. No, of course not. So he knocked.
"Come in."
He held his breath as he opened the door.
Maka was straight-backed in the chair until he came into view, her spine instantly curling in an unprofessional slouch. "Shut the door," she murmured.
Instantly, the sweat sprouted along his collar as he closed and locked it behind him. That sounded like an order that came right before the inevitable–
"We need to talk."
His stomach sank to his shoes. "Listen–" Soul tried to hedge his bets, all the frantic problems he'd plucked from yesterday's date coming to mind. "I'm sorry if it seemed like I was tryin' to get invited in or somethin'. That wasn't it. I-I really just wanted to–"
"Soul." There was such sweetness to the way she said his name as all of her features softened from that obvious tight worry to glowing care. "Just come here and sit down, okay?"
While he tried to embrace the warmth, Soul still tensed as he sat across from her. An internal battle started about whether or not his hands should even reach for the desk, leaving him clutching the top of his knees instead.
"Yesterday…" She sighed, eyes closing as she ran her fingers through her hair. "My papa saw us."
His smirk threatened to take hold, a chuckle starting at his lips until her jade eyes shot back open, none of his humor echoed there. His face stilled. "I mean, it's not like we were…"
"No, we were fine," she snapped as she rolled her eyes. "It's just– that's why I didn't want you to drive me home. I just knew he'd be like this and get ridiculous. I can't stand the way he–" Her lip buttoned, her eyes darting from him to the desk. "Sorry. I must sound so stupid, like I'm a child or something."
He reached, hand coming over top of the fingers she was staring at. "Don't apologize." Soul scooted towards the edge of the chair so he could get his palm settled over her knuckles.
She stared silently for a moment, examining the curves of his fingers. "We didn't do anything wrong."
"We didn't," he agreed softly.
"I-I really appreciated what you did yesterday."
Somehow her eyes were hesitant when they raised to his, and honestly, Soul was floored. Just that look had him floundering for a moment– How the hell is this alright? How the hell are you worried? I-I goddamn hugged you. That's the best I could do, but you're nervous? He let that tangle his tongue for another moment before managing to whisper hoarsely: "Don't feel like I did all that much."
"You kept your promise." All that warmth in her voice was back and suddenly she was stealing his hand, tangling their fingers now instead of that passive weight. "Slow. I'm– it's important to me."
He nodded, leaving her room but finding her just quiet, contemplative as she dropped her eyes back to his hand. Maybe I'll have the guts to ask you sometime soon. I know why I'm scared of all this but you're holding tightly to somethin' too, aren't you? He squeezed her fingers. "You hungry?"
She glanced at her computer, sighing as the clock there blared back at her. "It is lunch time, isn't it?"
"Yeah, so come eat with me." He tried to be playful with the order, but it felt so necessary. Just stay with me for a while longer.
I took Viv's journal out. I only know because of the writin'– not that I would ever read it. It doesn't look like one of those heart-shaped lock, boy-crazy diaries but… those are her private thoughts and even if she isn't here, I can't bring myself to do it. Can't say I'm not curious though.
But I guess that was a success?
Just like seein' Maka afterwards went alright too besides bein' awkward and only givin' her a hug after a fuckin' date. I can't even ask my friends since Blake gave me condoms—condoms!—just at the mention of her comin' to my house. As if that's the only thing you can do with a girl when she comes over. Fuck her. It's so… much.
I can think about kissin' her. I do want that, and I think she'd be okay with it. Ha! Listen to that– 'she'd be okay with it.' Fuckin' hell. That's really romantic, isn't it? Not to mention I haven't even actually said the words 'date' or 'girlfriend' to her or anyone else. It's like… a bubble I don't want to pop. If I kiss her, I-I think it's gonna feel like something I could never give up. Really, any closeness like that with her… I'm afraid it'll be like some drug that I can't get enough of and–
Things like that go away.
It always feels like when I have what I want in life, shit gets turned upside down.
So I guess I just sit and worry. I let that build a wall– keep a barrier between me and what I really want. And I wish I could fuckin' tell her that because sometimes I think Maka's fearless. She can just suck it right out of you with a touch. Like huggin' her. Or… or maybe kissin' her would actually steal all that bullshit away from me.
