Heyo~! So, I waited a bit to finish this chapter in hopes that I wouldn't distract any of you students from your finals or last projects or whatever you have left, but if I don't post it now, I might forget to do it later, as I will be getting extremely busy the next few weeks. So, here! Enjoy!

Chapter Twelve: Crazy

He hated himself - complete and utter loathing. He paced his living room floor back and forth after having taken a freezing, ice cold, North Pole worthy shower. He had chosen to use his guest bathroom, not knowing how to face Maka at the moment. A part of him had to applaud the self-control it had taken him to push her away, but really, he hadn't wanted to. He had, though, and he couldn't take it back. He was only proud of himself because he didn't want this to bloom from lust, becoming merely a physical affair before they could really get to know each other. He hoped and prayed to God that she knew that, that she respected and maybe even thanked him for it tomorrow. Who was he kidding? He had seen '10 Things I Hate About You' and he knew she would be upset from embarrassment and most likely wouldn't forgive him until he decided to make a complete fool of himself in the name of love. Though, how fun would it be to disobey the law and evade police officers while singing "I Love You, Baby" over the stadium monitors? He had never been presented the opportunity and it seemed thrilling. Soul only hoped that Maka would fall madly in love with him by the end of their rom-com. He absentmindedly envisioned himself going after Maka like Heath had Julia. He smiled, he could totally see himself doing that.

Soul stood in the middle of his living room, contemplating how to apologize and explain to her his reasoning without making it seem like her fault. Because it wasn't her fault, he didn't blame her in the least. He blamed alcohol, he blamed himself, and he blamed the damned beautiful connection between them. But mostly alcohol. Liquid courage should be banished for all eternity... well, perhaps not. He could sure use some right about now.

For a moment, Soul let himself reminisce over the kiss ... kisses. Plural. She had kissed him twice. She had kissed him. Twice. He smiled at the thought. He closed his eyes as he recounted her small form basically tackling him to the ground to plant one on him. She had been oh, so feisty and aggressive for such a small person. Soul quickly opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on anything else but the sensual happenings between himself and a certain enthralling creature; one whose hair resembled sunlit honey, and eyes held the most brilliant green in captivity; whose face a canvas for mere beauty and a smile so sweet and gentle it reminded him of twilight and Calla lilies. Winsome seemed a wonderful word to describe that which he longed for. Look what she did to him; he was becoming a romantic sap, and the weirdest part? He didn't even care. He actually felt good about it, possibly even stronger because of it. Surrendering himself to a pure vision of Maka - perfection and bliss - Soul's heated imaginings became nothing but pictures of her from his memory. He saw her smile and her fiery gaze as it pierced right through him; he heard her angelic laugh and lighthearted screams as she crushed him at every video game known to man; he recalled the food she had made for him and how completely cuss-worthy it was. His features lit up, steeling his resolve to make her his. As a belonging? Certainly not. They simply belonged together.

That night, Soul went to bed in the living room with determination set for the next day. He was going to make things right.

Maka awoke that morning, swollen eyelids squinting from the bright light spilling in through the large window, making her head pound mercilessly. Grumbling, she turned away from the penetrating rays only to blink a few times in realization. She took a few moments to wake up, her brows meeting in discomfort. Maka slowly got out of bed and went to the washroom, using the loo and washing her hands and face in hopes that the cool water would aid in the uncomfortable puff of her eyelids. Once she thought herself awake enough to brave the brightness, she entered back into the bedroom, finding her earlier realization was firmly reality. Though snowflakes still fell from above, the storm had passed for the most part.

Maka made her way to the window, looking down to the streets of the city which now sported a few people bundled here and there as they scurried about. This only meant one thing: it was time for her to go home. She sighed and glanced at the bed, not finding who she was looking for. She did, however, find two ibuprofen and a tall glass of water on the nightstand. She took them gingerly, hoping they would kick in quickly to nurse her determined headache. Returning to her earlier confusion of a Soulless bed, Maka checked the closet while changing into her own clothes and gathering her belongings. She begrudgingly prepared herself to go home as she searched for Soul. Exiting the bedroom into the living room, she came across an empty bundle of blankets and pillows laying on the couch. Soul hadn't slept with her. Even more confused, she went on a search for him, checking every room on the second floor. She doubted he'd be downstairs, as she knew that he didn't much care for the ballroom, so she made her way upstairs. During her search, she began to ponder over the morning. Why had she woken with swollen eyes? And why had Soul slept on the couch? Did something happen that she couldn't remember? Well, obviously, but what was it? Maka stopped as she reached the second floor, finding the lights on. She stood for a moment as she attempted to recollect the night before. The last thing she could recall was drinking alcohol with Soul after having a rather emotional endeavor about her high school days and getting in the Jacuzzi. She shook her head at herself, she must've been crazy to drink so much that she blacked out, unable to remember anything. She could only hope that she hadn't done anything too embarrassing.

Maka was torn from her worrying with a sudden crash of piano keys in a swarm of ebony and ivory, wickedly enchanting. It scared her at first, making her heart stop only to be put into overdrive, but it began to draw her in unconsciously. She took slow steps toward an eerie concoction of a dramatic clashing of notes and sweet, butterfly-like flicks of the keys. She walked down the hall to a door left slightly ajar. Peering in, she found Soul at a large, dark wooden grand piano. His face was so serene, with intense calm and poise before he smirked evilly, striking his hands to scatter across the keys, swift with urgency. She couldn't get herself to move, she was shocked still in her place. Shivers erupted through her at the beauty of the sinful way he played, it was like nothing she had ever heard before. She felt tears begin to pull at her eye ducts, surfacing and spilling from their confines, but she didn't care. She had never seen him this way during the past few days they had spent together, his passion for the art coming to life in his eyes. It captivated her.

Soul hadn't noticed her until he heard a sniffle from behind his left shoulder. He immediately paused, his hands floating above the keys in mid cascade but never allowing them to fulfill the trembling dissent. He turned slightly and glanced her way. What he found shocked him to the core and had his irrationally irritated gaze widen. She stood there at the door, peering in with tears rolling down her face, pouring from her eyes. She had her hands over her mouth in an attempt to keep herself quiet, most likely, but he couldn't be sure. He found what he thought to be awe in her mossy orbs, and why she was crying he hadn't a clue. He turned fully around on his bench, leaning forward and throwing on a smirk as he gestured for her to come in. It took her a moment before she slowly entered the room, only allowing a few steps, tears still running rampant.

"You can come in closer," he chuckled. She looked as though she was scared she might ruin the piano by merely breathing near it. "Are you okay?" She shook her head and concern contorted his features. He stood and walked to her carefully, allowing a hand to gently rub her back in an attempt to comfort. "What's wrong?" And then it hit him, hard, like bricks, like a damn brick wall. Was she crying because of what had happened last night? Shit. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Should he even be touching her right now?

"... so beautiful," she mumbled, wiping tears from her face only for them to be replaced by new streams of wet. "It was so beautiful."

"What?"

"The song, piano, or whatever. You were incredible. It was so full of emotion and-and…" He couldn't have felt more revered, he couldn't remember the last time he had moved someone to tears this badly … in a positive light. His mother had cried a heap when he had chosen to major in Jazz and then again when he decided to start his own company instead of working under his brother at the family's business, but this was much different. This was a pleasant first.

"You liked it that much?"

"Liked? I loved it. It was so … so …"

"So?" Soul waited patiently as Maka searched for the right word. He could tell by the look on her face that only this one word would do. She began to wave her arms around as she was at a loss. She sighed, enacting more tears to spill and drip from her long lashes. "Ssshhhh. It's okay." He pulled her into an embrace, holding her closely and firmly. She was so precious, and though she was spunky, smart, and strong-willed, even she had the right to break down on occasion. She had been through so much the past few days, from worrying about getting fired from her job to the point of almost losing her life in a snowstorm, to having to spend the week with a creepy looking, mysterious rich guy who just happened to save her. It was all just … a lot.

She cried for a while longer, not because his piano playing had moved her to this many tears, but because its sound had defined so well the melancholy feeling that had blossomed upon realizing she needed to go home. She had attached herself to Soul so fervently without even noticing. There was a connection there, one that she knew she couldn't find anywhere else, one that she had never felt before.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, his arms still wrapped around her tenderly. "I made us some hangover soup. Do you want some?"

"Yes, please," came her muffled reply. She made no move to let go of him, however; her head remained buried in his chest, hands still grasping the back of his shirt. They stood there for a moment more before Soul moves first, releasing her slightly to rub up and down her back.

"Come on, let's go eat." Soul's hands glided up her back gently, making their way from her shoulders and down her arms to grasp her hands. She allowed him to guide her out into the hall and toward the stairwell as she held him firmly, their fingers laced as she buried her face in the skin of his upper arm. The silence was comfortable as they made their way down the stairs and to the kitchen, Soul grabbing a box of kleenex as they passed through the living room.

"Do you need some tissues?"

"Thank you." Maka finally let go of him as she reached for the box to empty the contents of her nose. She watched him from her stand by the trash can as he went about heating up the soup he had prepared for her late the night before. She couldn't pull her eyes away from him; she followed him as he poured the soup into two bowls, set on just warming them up in the microwave. He moved with such grace that she felt inadequate. It was a feeling she was used to, but … unlike in any other situation, she felt complete being near him, like she had been missing him her whole life and didn't know it until now. She found herself studying his slender hands as they moved, her stare making its way up his forearm where his veins protruded. His muscles flexed as he lifted the bowls, his elbow catching her attention only for her to drag her gaze up his tricep and to his broad shoulder, getting stuck on his collarbone as he turned around; his shirt hung off of him, loose around his neck as he leaned back against the counter. She saw the muscles in his neck stretch as he tilted his head from side to side, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he yawned. The sound of the microwave going off startled her out of her daze, making her avert her eyes. She blinked a few times, attempting to keep herself from staring at Soul again. She was coming to the conclusion that he was ferociously attractive; dangerous territory.

Soul yawned again as he placed the second bowl into the microwave and set the timer. He hadn't slept a wink if he was being honest; his mind was filled with thoughts of her, of her kissing him, of her grief over having been pushed away, and now of her crying face as her eyes bore into his very being. He didn't know what to do with himself. Should he tell her what had happened last night? It seemed as though she couldn't remember anything and he didn't want to embarrass her in any way. He felt like she had the right to know, but … he didn't want to ruin their last moments together. The weather was clear enough for her to safely make her way home.

The microwave beeped once more, signaling that the next bowl of his special hangover soup was ready. He shook his head as he carefully grabbed both steaming containers to carry them over to the island where Maka sat absentmindedly cradling her box of Kleenex.

"Here you are, my lady." Soul sat next to her, their legs grazing each other as he did so.

"Thank you, kind sir."

"You don't seem to be in too much pain. Did you take the Ibuprofen I laid out for you?"

"I did, that's probably why I'm doing as well as I am right now. It was so difficult opening my eyes with it being as bright … as it is outside ..." Maka quickly shoved a spoonful of hot broth into her big, fat mouth. She had purposefully been trying to avoid the subject of the weather. The conversation ended subtly and a bit awkwardly as they both began eating in silence. Maka would glance at Soul while he wasn't looking and he would do the same, neither of them sure how they were to end things. They had become accustomed to the other's presence, almost to the point of feeling uncomfortable without it. They were both soon done with their meal, finishing much faster than either had expected.

I … I'll wash the dishes," Soul stated, lifting himself slowly from his seat.

"I can help." She followed him to the sink, handing him her dishes as he insisted. She ended up just standing next to him, watching even as he dried and went about putting the last of the utensils away across the room from her. They were stuck in that silence again, neither of them knowing what to say, not wanting to make the situation more depressing than it already was. It should have been strange how close they had become within a week's time, but it wasn't, not for them. It was the separating part that was odd for them. Maka watched Soul's back as he leaned forward on the counter, possibly trying not to look at her. She couldn't tell if he was avoiding eye contact because of what would happen within the next few hours - Maka leaving to go home, possibly never to meet him again - or if it was because of something that had happened.

"Hey, Soul?"

"Yeah?"

"What, uh, … what happened last night?"

"..."

"That bad, huh?"

"No… no, not, uh, not bad. You really don't remember anything?"

"Nothing. The last thing I can remember was drinking by the jacuzzi."

"What a shame." Maka's eyes widened as she still stood far from him, his front remaining out of view.

"Shame? What do you mean?" Soul smirked to himself before he sighed and turned to look at her from across the room, their gaze meeting like electricity, sparking and sending chills down her body. They sat staring, Soul bold as his ruby reds bore into her mossy orbs.

"You really want to know what happened?"

"Yes."

"You're sober now, right?" he asked, not in need of a verbal answer as he pushed himself from his perch on the counter, taking his sweet time as he slowly stepped closer and closer. She gulped as he closed in on her, cornering her until her backside met the kitchen counter. Her breath hitched in her throat as he came to calmly stand in front of her, their toes almost touching. He allowed his hands to support himself on either side of her as he leaned down, bringing himself closer to her cute, doe-eyed expression. He didn't let her gaze drift from his without a fight as his head moved to land in where ever her field of vision shifted.

"I-I, um, … as far as I know, yes." She bit her lip and he licked his own, suddenly feeling very dry. Everything she was doing was enacting the urges he had been suppressing all day, all week. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and with the gloss of saliva coating her plump, pink lips, he didn't think he could hold himself back any longer. She was sober now and could very well push him away whenever she damn well pleased … but he wouldn't feel guilty about it this time. He wanted her and, as far as he could tell, the feeling was mutual. It was a do or die kind of moment; that's exactly how he felt. He wouldn't hold back anymore, especially when she was giving him a look that was both shy and inviting at the same time, her eyes telling him to just do it.

"Good," he whispered, just inches from her face. He gulped and then took a slow, quiet breath as his nose gently brushed against hers. He must be out of his mind, but … he couldn't help himself. He had reached the end of his rope. "You'll remember this time."

The sensation of pressing his lips against hers and feeling her hesitation fade as she sunk into him was utter bliss. It felt so right, like he finally found his missing puzzle piece. This wasn't the first kiss the pair had shared, but it felt more genuine and real while they were both sober. It was sweeter and slow and he swore up and down that she was everything good. Being a little crazy wasn't such a bad thing.

Maka gasped, chills of excitement running down her arms and back to leave her hairs standing on end, and she found herself grasping the front of his shirt as his lips pressed to hers again. Was this real life? Or was she imagining it? She couldn't fathom what it could be that he saw in her. She could feel the muscles of his biceps flex, the fact that his hands remained gripping the edge of the countertop being brought to light. She didn't have much time to think on it too long as she was slowly leaned backward, her spine bending as Soul firmly kissed her as he continued to tilt forward, intent on being on top of her. Maka's hands moved to his chest as he loomed over her small figure, lightly nibbling on her bottom lip as she panted. Their breaths intermingled as he finally released the flesh of her mouth, pressing their foreheads together. Soul closed his eyes as he attempted to steady himself; he could feel his weapon trying to come out on instinct, which was more than odd in this situation, and he couldn't figure out why.

"So," Maka began, catching Soul's immediate attention. "That's what happened?" He found himself chuckling, his nose nudging hers once more.

"Roles reversed, but you get the jest." Soul began placing light pecks from her lips, to her cheeks to her nose, to her forehead as her blush deepened.

"You mean … I kissed you? While I was drunk? Oh, god, I'm so, mmh, s-sorry," she squeaked.

"I'm not." Soul had made his way to just under her jaw to faintly suck on the skin there. His hands had yet to touch her, as they still held firm to the dark marble, but his mouth was doing fine on its own.

"S-Soul, what are - hehe - what are you doing?" She was giggling, squirming, and he couldn't decide if he preferred this shy Maka or the bold Maka better. "Ah!" … Shy Maka, hands down. He was finding immense pleasure in the way he was making her move, wiggling from side to side as he made his way down her neck with detailed pecks, licks, and nips; her hands glued to his shirt all the while, telling him that she didn't want him to stop.

"I'm making sure you remember."

"You're crazy," she breathed, tilting her head slightly to allow him better access. She mewled softly as he kissed her collarbone, her grip on his shirt tightening.

"I'm not the only one."

kekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekeke :)

Review me, please! My author needs to be fed to have the energy to write more! :3

Much Love~!

p.s. I hope all of you students are done or are almost done with school! Keep up the good work and have a safe and smart summer break!

K.T.