There was no better word to describe what Soul was doing than hovering.
Kilik and the kids were getting pool-ready along with Liz and Patty who were always the first on the scene when the winter treat was mentioned. Blake and Maka were supposed to be coming together, but somehow it was taking time. Time that Soul could barely stomach, which left him wandering back and forth from the library to the foyer to the dining room. His excuse for the ditch he was digging? Well…
I'm a goddamn fool, that's what. He labored through a sigh before peeping out the window of the dining room again. She could see the house and book it. What's she want with a rich boy? Or she could've changed her mind about coming at all because we never talked about stayin' over. What that means.
He sunk his head into his hands with a frustrated huff. Stayin' over in a house full of other people. No privacy. Soul slid his fingers back and threatened to tug out those spiky white strands. And here I am talkin' like somethin's gonna happen! We didn't even discuss that either so I can't go around thinkin' that we're actually gonna need privacy! A dissatisfied groan broke his lips, and on the next revolution he threw himself into one of the library's armchairs.
Footsteps started somewhere nearby before Layla's voice rang sweetly through the Great room. "Papa!"
"Library, bug," he answered, still lounging in defeat.
Perfectly pretty in her sleek green bathing suit, Layla appeared, eyebrows already furrowing. "What are you doing in here?" She glanced around the room as if the books would give the answer before he could.
"Waitin' on the door." Soul flicked a frustrated foot in that direction before waving her closer. "That thing still fit?"
"It's a little tight." Layla shrugged as she pulled at the straps.
"Guess next time Granmama takes you shoppin' have her get you a new one instead of those frilly monstrosities you come home with," he teased softly as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Actually, Papa…" Layla leaned into the arm of the chair, a coy smile that reminded him of her father spreading across her cheeks. "Could I ask Maka to take me?"
"Ha–" The desperate syllable puffed out of his mouth before he could catch it, forcing him to try to turn it into some semblance of a hum to save face. "Y-you could ask her, if you want?" He pathetically tried to recover, noticing that Layla's face was taking on more than a hint of Wes's now.
"Because you said Maka and I can have alone time, too." She was prodding towards some terrifying end, making the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.
"Well, yeah…" Why's this drivin' me crazy? She hangs out with Liz and Patty all the time. Alone with Maka isn't any different.
"Okay!" she chirped cheerfully as she planted a kiss on his cheek.
None of this settled any of his unease.
"I can ask when she gets here, right?" That sweet trill of joy in her voice was piping to a peak. "And I know, I know, she could say no…" Her little arms circled Soul's neck, tugging him slightly back and forth. "I won't get my hopes up, Papa, promise."
Soul raised skeptical eyebrows. Except I don't think she'll say no. Maka's not shy about spending time with you and–
The doorbell chimed to life, making Layla drop all of her affection to instantly run towards the door. Soul stayed settled, stuck in his own head for the answer he'd been groping at for the past few minutes. Layla's exhilaration continued in the foyer. "Everyone else is here already!"
"I'm sorry we're late..." Maka's answer came back dripping with some kind of annoyance, forcing Soul back up for air.
He was readying himself to stand when the two of them appeared in the doorway. Maka was tenderly brushing Layla's hair back from her forehead, a joyful gaze beaming down on the girl as something else twittered between them in low whispers.
Oh. Soul was trapped in the seat, legs suddenly not all that solid. Queasy wasn't the right word, but to be honest, he'd never actually felt whatever the hell this was before. There was something about the way Maka was doting on Layla– something about the gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a picture he couldn't quite make out, but one that was etching into the back of his mind as they continued his way.
"Maka, Papa said I could ask you: would you want to take me shopping sometime soon? Before Christmas?" Layla was tangling a hopeful hand in Maka's.
Soul held his breath for the reply.
Without skipping a beat, the pleasant offer rolled off Maka's tongue: "Just the two of us?"
"Yes!" His daughter pounced on the possibility. "I need a new bathing suit and–" She tugged Maka downward to hide the rest in a whisper.
Maka erupted in a quick giggle, sending a tender glance in Soul's direction before homing back in on Layla. "Sounds like fun. As long as it's okay with your papa…"
"It's fine," Soul croaked, surprised by the odd knot he found in his throat.
Her smile hit brilliant, and those loving fingers pinched at Layla's chin. "Then I'd love to." At this point, she was close enough to reach for him, succeeding in planting a hand on his shoulder. "Hi."
"Hey." He stared up at her, desperately wanting to get up and bring her close.
"Wow," Blake barked as he finally graced the doorway. "Get a room, you two."
Clouds swiftly fell over Maka's features, her head jerking back towards Blake with menacing eyes. "Maybe the person who made us late should shut his mouth."
He dropped their bags to the ground with a clatter in order to raise innocent hands. "Well, I thought everything about this weekend was slow."
Soul watched the same scarlet hit her cheeks that he knew was tainting his ears.
"You," she grumbled, hiding whatever expletive under her breath as she moved back towards Blake to sock him in the shoulder. There was a loud smack, but Blake didn't even wince, the biggest reaction in the room coming immediately from Layla.
"Maka!" There was Viv's voice, chiding right out of the little girl's mouth. She was instantly pushing into Blake, making room between the two of them. "Don't hit Uncle Blake!"
The not at all innocent man sneered. "That's right, Maka, be nice to me."
Her eyes threatened to roll right out of her head.
"C'mon, Layla, save me from mean old Maka." Blake slung an arm around the girl, pulling her along with him as he threw a devious glance in Soul's direction before disappearing.
"I'll give that idiot slow," Maka muttered, her shoulders still tensing.
Soul finally took his cue, standing from the chair and placing somewhat hesitant hands on her arms. A momentary flinch melted away as she turned to face him. "Hey," he repeated lamely, at least letting his fingers do more talking as they slid down to gather up hers.
"You said that already…" She ignored his original search, slipping her hands away to encompass his waist and bring their bodies dangerously close.
That was enough encouragement, allowing him to give into that urge to pull her in, to find how she fit against him. He tried to huff out some air before dropping his lips to her hairline. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too." Her fingers danced over the muscles of his back.
Breathing now felt all too complex. "A-about tonight."
Maka offered silence, just an almost imperceivable tightening in her grip.
"Kilik and I usually split the bedrooms down by the den since that's where the kids are, but… you can have my spot if you want. I can always sleep with the kids." There was an endless revolution between want and fear forcing him to hold her against his chest. Am I doin' it wrong? Given' her slow– or too goddamn slow? He couldn't bring himself to find the answer in her eyes so he hung on her breath, waiting for a reply.
Fingers clenched into his t-shirt then relaxed, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles she created. "It's just a bed, right?"
"Yeah," he murmured, exhaling slowly. Kilik was right. All I wanna see is that face in the morning, a smile when I wake up, maybe even a little bit of bed head that I can run my fingers through to fix. Soul's next breath was bolstered by a bit more contentedness. "Just want you to be comfortable."
"I appreciate that." Maka was finally able to wiggle enough away that her eyes met his, staring up at him with a mellow smile. She pressed up onto her tiptoes, lips meeting his in a soft, sweet greeting.
He held on to that, trying to let it breed calm down to his bones.
"Sick deltoids" weren't part of Maka's vocabulary, but the first glimpse of Soul's back as he waded in waist deep water certainly left her searching for a thesaurus.
First, muscle definition wasn't exactly easy to see with all the ink that painted a complex mural along the entirety of his back. He'd never even mentioned tattoos, which seemed like an utter crime because as her eyes lingered she realized it wasn't just his back but his legs as well, imagery from his swim trunks to his ankles distorted by the water.
Second, upon closer inspection as she tried to follow Liz without stumbling in utter dumbfoundedness, he definitely had deltoids– and lats– and traps– all of them beautifully defined with each one of his movements. Watching him lift Layla was a lesson in musculature that she couldn't take her eyes off of.
"Wow, you are shameless," Liz cooed as she nudged a hip into Maka on the next stride.
"He just–" Maka stuttered for some kind of logic, finding it almost impossible as his head popped over his shoulder at the start of her voice. He only made matters worse by smiling at her–something she tried to return though she was sure hers was framed by cheeks that were way too pink. "He never told me he had tattoos," she whispered tightly.
"Those?" Patty seemed to wave them off as if they were talking about some dainty ladybug on an ankle. "He started that right before he went to Seattle."
"And finished it right after he got Layla," Liz added.
Maka was getting a new view as Soul was turning towards the muttering group. "I know where Liz and Patty are headed," he said as he waded to the end of the pool, well within grasping range of Maka's ankles. It gave her an even more intriguing view of his chest, which while not entirely saturated like his back, carried a few wayward, disjointed images. "What about you?" He didn't grab for her, eyes just lazily staring upwards.
"We call Maka for a little bit," Liz proclaimed as she took Maka by the shoulders.
"Yeah, girl talk," Patty chimed as she stole Maka's other hand.
Soul chuckled ruefully as he leaned against the ledge, arms crossing as he dropped his chin to them. "Alright, have fun." His glance hesitated, wobbling from her lips to her neck, threatening to fall.
It's alright to look. She wished she could give him the permission since she'd so shamefully been doing the same. Liz is right. Blake is right. There was no time to add to the list since Patty was pulling her along, sandwiching her safely between the sisters as the hoots and hollers of the boys and kids overwhelmed the room.
The echoes off the beautiful azure tile that lined the walls and floor bounced in Maka's head. Technically this was the basement, but the shining porcelain kept it from being cave-like, instead giving the illusion of a clear blue sky all around them. While the pool spanned most of it, a corner was dedicated to a smaller, steaming section that was fed from an ornate waterfall that trickled across stones to create a pleasant hum.
Rich feels like an understatement. She glanced back at the man who seemed to broadcast the antithesis, who was raising his daughter out of the water to toss her while she squealed in delight.
Tattooed teacher.
Ex-late-night-radio host.
Grew up with a pool in his basement.
"Seriously can't keep your eyes off him," Liz crooned again, something closer to a snicker than a laugh leaving her lips.
Maka tried to blame that heat in her face on the incoming steam as the three of them climbed into the sauna pool. She could try to negate the teasing, leave her back to the rambunctious fun behind them and try to cool her mind with a view of blue rather than an art-filled, chiseled set of shoulders. A terrifying but thrilling internal voice thrust back against that thought: Why? You're dating. He obviously appreciated your dress the other night, so why can't you have your own bit of eye-candy?
She sank in between Patty and Liz with a full view of the pool.
"So, wild place, huh?" Liz did her best Vanna White impression as she gesticulated towards the entirety of the room.
Maka raised her eyebrows before laughing. "Pretty unbelievable. Did he grow up here?"
"Well, sorta," Patty replied with a short laugh. "He got pretty good at running away by twelve."
"Hard to believe anyone would want to skip out on this kind of life," Liz hummed out as she slid down into the soothing warmth of the water. "But Viv used to complain about–"
"I thought it was 'Soul and Layla's business,'" Patty mimicked with annoyance.
Liz shot her sister a quick glare behind Maka's back. "Viv was our cousin, so what she said to us is our business," she spat back pertly.
"Oh..." Patty elongated the vowel, rolling her eyes at the correction. "In that case…" She leaned closer to Maka, letting the words get trapped between them. "Soul's mom is a real bitch."
Liz snorted before tilting her chin towards the two to join in their gossiping. "Viv once had a screaming match with Lenora. Trust me when I say that I've never, ever heard Viv raise her voice in my entire life, so when she came over to vent about it– wow!"
"About Soul?" Maka offered, feeling a twinge of betrayal– Shouldn't I ask him that?
"A bunch of stuff," Patty replied. "But Soul was definitely a part of it, even if he was in Seattle at the time."
I want to know about Seattle. Her attention twitched back to the man in question, finding that scarlet glare focused on her as well. I want to know why you went. Who you were then. But I don't think this is the right way.
"But that is obviously not what Maka wants to talk about," Liz teased as her fingers danced over Maka's shoulder. "So, do all those lovey-dovey eyes mean that things are moving forward?"
Maka twitched, dropping her gaze from his before flipping between the two girls. "N-no– I mean– yes, things are going well…" She uselessly blamed the flushing of her skin on the sauna. No matter how embarrassing it is, I'd rather talk about this. Seattle can wait for when he's ready to tell me.
"Well?" Patty wrinkled her nose. "Sounds boring."
"At least the way she's looking at him isn't boring," Liz added.
"It's not boring," Maka turned in a hissing, low whisper.
Liz leaned her head back, exhaling joyfully towards the ceiling. "Well, keep looking at him like that and it's definitely not going to be."
"What, am I not supposed to look?" She snapped in reply, arms crossing her chest as the stubbornness set in and that little voice came back: You're not a child. He's not a child. And it's not wrong.
Liz and Patty started a chorus of laughter until the older sister finally broke for breath. "No, definitely keep looking. It's cute."
"I just hope he catches you," Patty urged with a pleasant hum after.
"What?"
Patty nudged her shoulder with her own, dipping close to her ear. "I don't think that dummy's actually seen anyone look at him like that in a long time."
That trickling heat hit her again, a tingle from her guts to her toes. He did say it'd been a while since he dated. Since he… felt something for anyone. She locked eyes with his back again, willing– urging– needing him to turn around. Maybe if you see…
Another one of Blake's erratic cannonballs ruined any calm that the pool had to offer. Soul watched as his friend broke the surface again, laughter already exploding from his lips as he shook a torrent of water from his scraggly mane. Hands barely blocked the impact, leaving new splatters across Soul's chest. He sighed, ignoring the biggest kid in the pool to make a quick check of the others. In the meantime, Blake had used the opportunity to sneak in, throwing an arm around Soul's shoulders and pulling him close enough that his cackle resounded in Soul's ear.
"You're looking in the totally wrong direction."
"Well, I sorta enjoy Layla alive rather than drowning at the bottom of a pool," Soul grumbled back as he eyed the girl in question. She was doing just fine, as skilled as a little otter since the first day he'd bit the bullet and actually got her in the water. The memory started to pull a glowing grin out of the frown he had attempted for Blake.
"Okay, I get it, proud papa, but there's a certain someone who keeps looking at you and all you've been showing her is your sick deltoids."
Soul's shoulders flexed unconsciously at the mention before he turned a skeptical glance to Blake. "They're havin' girl talk– didn't want to bother 'em."
Blake's scoff hit hard enough to reverberate painfully against Soul's ear drum, making him elbow the other man in an attempt to get away. It was only minorly successful, earning him only enough space to save his hearing as Blake started again: "What, tattooing your dick made it not work or something?"
Soul clapped a hand over Blake's mouth too late, the sentence alive and well and buzzing painfully into his skull. He pulled the man close again, threatening to strangle him with the arm around his neck. "I do not–"
The other man slobbered the words through his fingers. "Sorry, assumed how the ink disappears into your trunks that you just kept going."
Oh, Death, come for me now, please. Soul couldn't stop himself, letting his chin slowly turn over his shoulder to see if his life was entirely over– if Maka's face was full of disgust. His arm continued to clench, attempting to cut off Blake's air, but the rest of him was frozen.
She was staring.
Patty and Liz were laughing.
Except he'd seen disgust before—shock too—but this wasn't it.
Jade eyes were glowing– wanting something. It didn't look like some kind of questioning gaze but full of intent. A message was waiting there for him, like she'd been begging for him to turn around and take it, but the letters might as well be code. Am I allowed to look? To figure it out?
Blake started to wriggle away, and now was his chance to break whatever the spell was. He could get back to berating his friend. He could make sure his very capable daughter was still alive and kicking. He could–
A sigh unlike any he'd ever uttered before fluttered upwards, ignited by that delightful dip in his stomach that took wing every time she touched him. It's like that. He started to grapple with it, holding onto that look tightly and churning it over and over in his mind. It's like she's touching me from across the room. And I want– His feet had wills of their own, bringing him to the edge of the pool and pulling him out of the water. Since he hadn't lost her stare along the way, he motioned softly with his hand, trying to hide the urgency that wanted to bleed into the gesture.
Maka stood, water ribboning down her bare stomach that he allowed his eyes to rest on. Her body was just another show of her dedication and drive, the way each inch of her was chiseled finely like the marble visage of Nike of Samothrace. Victory did seem to come with each step, light and joyful as she made her way to his side and slid down to the cool tile. "You know, you never told me you had tattoos."
He cracked a smirk, his hand daring to come over hers as it held up her lean. "Would you believe me if I said I forget they're there sometimes?"
"How?" She used the hand he couldn't catch to run a gentle finger along a curl of smoke that adorned the top of his thigh. "There's so much of it."
"Just skin," he replied with a short laugh. "Pain was temporary so sometimes just… don't get to see it much with work anymore, so I forget until"— he leaned closer, whisper only meant for her ear—"a beautiful girl seems to notice 'em. Has the nerve to touch 'em." His sigh lingered towards mournful as she hesitated. "I don't mind, Maka." It was a desperate plea that rattled through each one of his nerves as he waited for her.
"I don't have any tattoos," she murmured, "but I-I don't mind if you look either." Her hand made a safe landing on his knee, far from scandalous but still making his heart ram into his ribs.
Soul tried to formulate an answer on his tongue, but all words had abandoned him. Instead, he dipped his chin just close enough to brush innocent lips over her cheek. The wolf-whistles instantly erupted, making Soul's spine straighten and pull away from her. His glare had no one singular place to fall—all of his friends guilty of the rabble rousing—so his eyes fell to his lap with a sigh.
The embarrassment didn't have time to take hold because her hand reminded him with a gentle squeeze: we're not doing anythin' wrong.
