Slow burns are slow.
Soul rarely predicted the future correctly but this one he actually got right: Maka Albarn fit in just fine. First surprise was her not taking any of Black Star's shit, a courageous feat that not many in the office could follow. Not that she had to go toe-to-toe with him that much since the majority of her time was with him and Black Star's only offering there was mutters of 'whipped' as he walked by. She also got along with all the girls, mostly the new one, that tall dark-haired girl named Tsubaki, but also Liz and Patty who sometimes could be pretty hard nuts to crack. But ask him how they fit and you'd be waiting a millennium for an answer back because honestly, Soul didn't have it.
Maka was still constantly dogging him, stubborn to a fault, but now everything she did came with a smile or another one of those glances from eyes so green that he sometimes swore they were fake. She'd started off leaning over her desk to give him directions, turning his computer screen without asking so she could point to problems and he hadn't hidden the huffing and puffing about the disorder to his regular working space. But now, either as a punishment or a reward, she had started to get up from her desk, now pressing into his shoulder as she fed him orders while her cheek was almost against his.
That was her thing, being close, while his had honestly always been the opposite. Touch was unnecessary, mostly annoying, and usually never validating. So why was it that every time she got out of her chair he was starting to expect, OK, maybe even hope, that it was to come around to his side of the arrangement? Or how about how he could no longer keep a straight face when she put her hand over his to move the mouse because he wasn't doing it fast enough for her liking, a hint of a smirk always destroying the usual fine line of his lips. But maybe, and oh, fucking hell was this the hardest thing to even let glance over his mind, maybe it wasn't the touch itself but because it was her.
Sometimes Maka wished she could read minds, too. It was because of the shift, the way Soul had suddenly gone from indifference to those minuscule shadows of personality. She could almost pinpoint it to the minute, a date that maybe Maka should have marked on her calendar because of the way he just sort of crumbled. It started out usual, her bent over his shoulder, clicking through the work he'd just finished as he tried to make his breaths sound exasperated next to her. His ability to pretend to be annoyed was truly an art, but one that Maka had honestly seen right through after the first week.
She scrolled through the entirety and without even a second thought she let the words tumble from her mouth, "Soul, you really are amazing at this." To punctuate that Maka squeezed the hand that was on top of his on the mouse.
Soul cleared his throat like he was strangling, "Finally, a compliment."
"I have to be careful or you'll get an ego," Maka nudged her shoulder to his.
"Yeah." There was something so dismal about that affirmative, the way his voice took on that gravely quality as if uttering it tore his throat apart.
"Soul…" She turned her head and for once he let their eyes meet and it was there, that speck of something he didn't want to show, that he desperately tried to blink away and bring back the facade. "It's funny when we were apart, I used to say it all the time," Maka brought a tentative smile to her lips. "But that's the problem, right? I'd say it and you'd be here with totally no way of knowing. I didn't send it to you in an email or say it over the phone because I thought it'd annoy you, especially since it was just from me. But now that we're together, I'm always going to give you praise when it's due."
He grunted something close to agreement to that arrangement as he dipped his head away from her, resting his elbow on the desk and letting his hand support his cheek.
Because, really, you're just a big softy, aren't you? Maka had to beat down the instinct to ruffle his hair or maybe even go so far as to give him a hug around the shoulders because that would spell disaster. He barely tolerated the touching as it was and technically, this was an office. There wasn't any other partner group that even stood this close, besides the way that Blake hounded Tsubaki and that was obviously because he was desperate to get in her pants. And that's definitely not what's happening here because… absolutely not.
That was the thought that was gracing her mind just as she sat back down in her chair. She swiveled back and forth. It's just because it's always me and him. Because I'm not going out or even really trying. Because I'm Maka Albarn, a product of youthful romance that ended in a nasty divorce. Because- Her mind blanked because on that swivel she'd caught eyes with him again and there it was, the moment Soul wasn't just that complete enigma anymore. Instead, he was letting her see it for a split second, the helplessness in his eyes telling her 'OK, I needed that' because heaven forbid he said the actual words.
Soul's lunch used to be quiet. It used to be at least a half-hour of solitude unless those loudmouths Liz and Patty were in a particular mood, but for the most part, they usually twittered amongst themselves while he got to sit back in the extra conference room and become one with the wallpaper. Now, he had Black Star in one ear, comping away because fuck could his best friend not chew with his mouth closed, and not just two but five chirping voices. Even Kid, who Soul had known to be more on the reserved side, seemed to fall into an abundance of idle chatter as soon as Liz and Patty were around. Not to mention, Maka and the other new girl, Tsubaki, were not that far behind.
He had been trying to zone out anyway, turning the voices to hums and pitches in his brain as he chewed through his lackluster sandwich. It was a bit on the stale side, but that's the price you paid for convenience store food. That's why when Liz turned to him, he only got about half the question.
"... need a roommate, right?"
Soul raised his scarlet eyes from his sad lunch to those dark blue ones. "Yeah."
With that satisfactory answer, Liz turned her head back towards the group. "See, I told you, Maka, he's still looking."
Maka? Soul wanted to screech.
"And don't worry, he's not a perv or anything…"
Thank you?
"Yeah, he doesn't even bring girls home," Patty added.
Soul choked on what was left in his mouth.
That's when Black Star's voice shot over the rest, "Hell, he hasn't even gotten laid in-"
Soul slapped a hand over his mouth, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth clacked together. He contemplated just throwing himself out of the window there and then but opted for the swift, shameful walk out of the room instead. Be cool. Be cool. Fun, games, jokes, actually not that far from the regular or the truth just that they said it in front of her. Soul gave his forehead a smack as he rounded the corner to the desks. But that shouldn't even matter. For all you care, she thinks you're some hopeless virgin dweeb. Because it doesn't matter what she thinks. She's… She's…
"Soul?" She was standing right behind him, her hand hovering to touch his arm and when he turned Soul got a hand to the chest instead, one that got instantly snatched away as soon as the contact was realized. It was long enough though that his mind could scream about how warm her hand was.
Snap out of it! Soul tried nonchalantly dropping into his chair, trying to escape looking at her in that slightly downward angle because something about it just made him even more nervous. "Yeah?"
"This is awkward," she murmured under her breath and he only just caught it, sending his gut jittering. "I mean, it's just… well, I've been wanting to move out and Liz said that you…"
"Yeah," he lamely let squeak out of his mouth.
"I didn't mean to…" Maka was wringing her hands and for a split second, he wanted to hold them to stop the motion.
Hold her hands? Are you insane? "You didn't," he spat. Her hands were still moving and the idea of it was killing him so he took a deep breath. "Look, forget about it. You want to see the apartment or not?"
Those green eyes blinked wide, "Yes."
"Fine." He forced himself back to his desk, hunching over the computer as if he had something to do, and to do desperately. "After work. I'll just take you. Easier than having you get lost."
"Great," there was genuine excitement in her voice filtering through the nervousness and somehow that stupidly made him want to smile.
"Great," he echoed and an unavoidable smirk started to pull at his lips.
Soul knew he was going to be a piss-poor realtor but somehow Maka seemed to pay attention to every word, every sweep of his hand. From the hallway on, she was attentive, actually opening and closing cabinets when they reached the kitchen. "It's small, but I, uh, don't cook much so you'll have your space."
"You have like two bowls…" Maka murmured half-heartedly into the open cabinet.
He let out a sharp, anxious laugh. "Uh, yeah, again, don't cook."
"Alright." She snapped the door shut and stared at him until he realized that was the prompt for the next room and he walked down the hallway to the bedrooms.
He quickly shut his door, hoping to avoid the embarrassment of the trainwreck that was his room. For a guy who didn't have that much stuff, it sure was strewn about. Motioning to the only open door he muttered, "It's technically the bigger of the two, but that's not saying much."
Maka walked past him and into the room. It was barren, so he couldn't actually imagine what she was seeing other than white walls and creaky hardwood floors. "I guess this is why you do the design, and I do the nitpicking and talking."
"Huh?" He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms at his chest.
"You don't sell things very well." And while he had never, ever in his life called anyone's laugh amazing, there it was: the kind of laugh that would bring one straight from your own mouth even if someone had your balls in a vise. Even worse, he wanted to hear it again.
Instead, a chuckle, which is not a quality of laugh that usually came from his mouth, maybe a snort, sure, but an amused, throaty chuckle was totally not in his forte, tumbled from his lips. "You're right."
"Oh, I like the sound of that." Total nail in the coffin because not only did she laugh again, something he might call a giggle since it still had a cute, girlish quality, but she turned her head, throwing just the start of a smile at him. It was as if she wasn't sure he was going to accept it and before he could even think about it that much a smirk was on his own face.
"Don't get used to it." Soul had to turn away at that point, pulling himself back in the hallway so he could obscure that view. What the hell was that, Evans? You are not thinking about that smile. That smile is out and don't even start on that laugh. "There's, uh, only one bathroom," he talked to the empty corridor instead of her. "But it's got a lock, so you don't have to, I guess, worry about, I don't know…"
"Should I worry?" Maka tipped her head out of the bedroom.
"No," he spat back quickly.
"I didn't think you seemed like the peeping tom type." This laugh was more tentative and he brought his eyes back to her, catching her staring like she was examining his guts. "I mean, after what the girls at the office said…"
Soul huffed, "They're a nuisance."
"And they love to tease you," Maka grinned.
"And I take it," Soul rolled his eyes. "They just can't see how cool I am."
"Cool?" She pressed her lips together so tight he thought she might bite one but instead another laugh burst from her mouth. "Sorry!"
"I am cool," Soul insisted back.
"Well," Maka tried to stop the laughter, pushing her hand to her mouth to quell it before trying again. "I guess I'll get to know how cool you are."
"I guess." He forced himself to start for the living room because he needed air. You're not cool. Totally not. Not right now, at least, and not when you keep thinking about the way she smiles. "Last's the living room. Couch, TV, piano, and that's about it."
"Piano?"
Why did you mention that, idiot? Soul gulped, "Yeah. Only place it fits."
"You have a piano?" She snuck up behind him, almost making him jump out of his skin especially as her fingers brushed his arm as she went past, moving beyond the couch and towards the bench.
"Yeah, I play." No one would ever call you long-winded.
She stood with her hands on her hips-
That's cute. Soul almost slapped himself in the face. Stop that.
-and surveyed the instrument like a farmer staring at his fields. "You play?"
Don't, don't do it. Absolutely do not do it. Soul was already walking towards the piano, thoughts thrown to the wayside as he sat down slowly. As his fingers touched the keys the words absently fell from his mouth, "This is the kind of guy I am." Without thought, because this was usually the time he could leave all that behind, Soul started out on the only melody he'd ever written himself. It should have been embarrassing, the notes that spoke about him, but he was sunk into the melody. His mind was trying to scream warning after threat but none of it stuck, just his fingers on the keys for her own private concert. When he stopped, it all came crashing down on him, the shame, the insecurity, the utter uncool.
"That was beautiful." Soul jerked his head towards her since all he could hear was awe in her voice, maybe just a hint of curiosity. Before he could even tell her it was stupid and that possibly she should get her ears checked, Maka extended a hand to him. "You have yourself a roommate."
Soul warned himself about taking that hand, about the anticipation he had stupidly built, but he took it anyway. "Guess I do."