So this was not my original plan, and I'm unsure if that helps or hurts you, reader. At the very least I'm not teasing you as much.
Every time he thought about her breath on his lips, Soul was torn apart. That moment had been pure need, the want for her to just be his regardless of the consequences. That had been fed by the house, by the idea that she planted as they walked up that there was time for that, that he could have that perfect family life with her. He would throw away Medusa's offer and put her in danger just to know what she tasted like, what it would be like to live a simple life with her. Instead, that other voice grated at him. You'd never make it to the happily ever after and you know it. Medusa would hurt her, kill her, and your dreams would be smoke.
Instead, the more convincing scenario was that he did as Medusa asked, making Maka hate him in the process because there was no other option. That hatred, that distance, would most likely save her, and wasn't that his end goal? But, fuck, do I ever want to be selfish, to have all of it. Avoiding her was hell especially after how close he'd come at the house. Back at the apartment was a daily battle, a painful waltz around each room as he tried to evade her touch. Each time her eyes sent out that painful message of acknowledgment, that knowing sad attempt at a smile ripping open any endeavor at closing this wound.
His timer was up as well, the deadline of tomorrow's presentation leaving him without sleep and no hope that the piano would piece together his thoughts. Instead, he sat with his back pressed coldly against the wall as his eyes scanned the window next to his bed hoping for a distraction.
He shouldn't have wished because it was answered in the form of her footsteps and a soft knock at his door. "Yeah," he croaked.
The door squealed only a second of protest as Maka opened it. "I can't sleep."
"Me either," he sighed and without thinking waved her in.
Maka shut the door behind her as if it made an ounce of difference before walking over to the bed and sinking down to sit on the edge. "But you're not playing."
He weakly snorted a laugh, "Am I that predictable?"
"You keep to your patterns," Maka smiled. "It's not a bad thing."
"Maybe." Soul let out a trembling breath as he leaned his head back to focus on the ceiling instead of her. Like the pattern of letting you in and pushing you away. I'm great at that especially right now as I let you sit on my bed and hope that you'll stay.
Maka always took the silence as a reason to fill it with a question, though this was not entirely the one he was expecting. "Soul, why did you join in the first place?"
He wondered if she felt like she shouldn't ask, or that he wished she wouldn't. Then make something up. There's plenty of bullshit stories to tell. He ground his head back again. "Because I'm a spoiled rich kid."
A bewildered laugh left her lips, "What?"
"Just what I said," Soul huffed.
"So your parents…?"
"Mom was born with a silver spoon and Dad does some job I've never understood but he makes enough to go golfing in Ireland once a month," he muttered. "Brother's a perfect replica."
She was fidgeting on the bed and he was terrified to find she was crawling towards him, pressing her back next to him on the wall. "You have a brother?"
"Ten years older than me." In his periphery, he could see her fiddling with her lower lip as she chewed over the next question. His eyes stayed glued on the ceiling, but he offered her what he could only guess was coming next. "Little late-in-life accident."
"I'm an early-in-life accident." She moved her hand to his chest, patting there in an effort to draw his attention. "But I'm guessing you weren't the center of attention like I got to be until the fighting started."
"Sure, I got attention," Soul croaked. "Just the 'why can't you be more like your brother?' kind." He used his free hand to pull at his hair. "But that's a lame excuse."
Soul was ready to run simply because his secrets were out in the air but the minute her fingers touched his cheek, turning his head to her he was sure he was ready to sprint. "It's not lame. That sounds like it must have hurt."
"Maka…" was the only thing that could quiver off his lips.
Somehow, that made her smile just spark momentarily before bringing it back to a reserved flat lip. "So you decided tattooed bad boy was the way to go?"
A sharp laugh huffed out of his throat. "Guess so. Maybe I should say Black Star was a bad influence."
"He is a bad influence," Maka muttered.
"But it wasn't his fault," Soul corrected. "I made him introduce me to the boss. I was always good with computers and it just so happened that I developed a talent for forging. That got my foot in the door and then I made Black Star turn me into a tattooed bad boy."
Her fingers slid down his jaw until it finally rested back on his chest, leaving a trail of skin so alive he swore he could feel every nerve ending. "What was your job then?"
"A job you shouldn't know about," he whispered back bitterly, his eyes falling to hers to be ready for the fear or the surprise to wash over her face.
Instead, her head tilted thoughtfully to the side, her eyebrows narrowing. "Did it feel better than the job you have now?"
"Feel better?" He balked. "It's not like it felt good to do what I was doing."
"Then why do it?" She let the question fall unapologetically from her lips and the force of it dug him deeper into the bed.
Soul could only offer a few gapes of his mouth, a frustrated huff of air breaking from his lips.
Maka afforded him a few extra minutes but when all he did was shut his mouth she continued, "OK, then why stop?"
When he finally willed his voice to sound, it was hoarse, his throat barely allowing for the words. "Because I finally figured there was one thing that I wanted that the organization would never give me."
She was fighting with herself over the last question, her eyes glazing over with concern for it and the answer. "What one thing?"
"You met Stein," he murmured. "He did what I did. Did it too well for a long time. Everyone knew his name, feared and respected him. He had money and power. The boss's favorite. And he tossed it all away, for all anyone knows died so he could be with Marie and his kid. Because while you're never alone, you don't have a family either. That's something they'll never give you."
"So you left to be with Shelley, Marie, and Stein," the words sounded self-assured as if he'd said them himself.
"Part of it," he hesitantly added.
"What's the other part?"
"I wanted to be able to have my own too," eked weakly from his throat, the terror of the truth seizing his heart as he turned his head back for the window, away from the object of it all in front of him. "I always wanted to mean something to somebody."
"I know… I know I was supposed to let it go, Soul, but I… please, that's not something you should give up on." Just the tips of her fingers pressed against his jaw, bringing his eyes back to hers.
He saw her pulling closer and without hesitation he pressed his hand to her neck, cupping just under her jaw to keep her still. "Wanting that, having that, means all I am is selfish. It means I'm putting my wants above…" he choked, the truth so bitter that his tongue could barely hold it. "I'm putting what I want above your life."
"What if…" Maka gently started the task of prying his fingers off her neck. "What if it feels like it's not a life if it's not with you?"
"What?" he was breathless as she plucked away his hand. His mind was a symphony of pleading as he watched her face hovering just close enough for their lips to meet, the motion filled with a tender ache that he would never forget. He waited for the rejection, the slap in the face or the pressure of her hand against his chest, but all Maka did was melt into him as her hand caressed down his arm. While her courageous intent bled through her fingers, the way she clutched at his arm, her lips were feathery and light, teasing him so badly that he had to break it for fear that he'd give in to that endless want.
"I think what we have is worth that kind of risk," she murmured. "I don't want the alternative."
Soul could only let out a trembling sigh, all the different answers and arguments feeling lackluster. His hand slid from her cheek and into her hair, bringing her back to him. There was still a solid insistence to be slow, a restraint that he had to force upon himself because this, this was filling him up, making him feel whole and, fuck, he wanted it all.
Maka's hand moved from his arm to his chest and patted softly, forcing him into a pause. "Now can you tell me what we're up against?"
He had to clear his throat, feeling that sweet need pulling at his heart. "I told you," he croaked as his fingers tangled deeper into her hair, holding her forehead to his to keep from having to look into those eyes. "I still need to think."
"Even after this?" she murmured.
"Especially after this." He unraveled his fingers from those blond tresses and let his hands fall back to his lap as he leaned away from her, cutting off the touch that his body still screamed for so badly. "Because I need you to think. I need you to be sure you know what you're saying."
"You don't believe me?" Maka narrowed her eyes as her hand threatened to grip in her arm, her fingers starting to tense.
"Not like that," he shook his head slowly, sighing in the process. "You wouldn't let me say I'd die for you but here you are saying practically the same thing. You called it stupid, remember?"
"It's not-"
"But it is," he shot back. "You think she wouldn't dare? You think she hasn't ordered me or Black Star to do something like this?" Soul gritted his teeth, sure the next words shouldn't leave his mouth but he was afraid, and fear always fed his tongue. "Marie probably mentioned that she fostered Black Star. You think that was some legal thing? You think Marie got that baby from the state? His parents were murdered, Maka. Killed in cold fucking blood, ordered by the boss. So if you don't think she's capable, that people who work for her aren't capable, then think again." He watched all the color melt away from her face. You did what you do best, destroy things. Here was your chance to break that cycle of pull then push but you fucked it up again.
"You think she'll kill me," it wasn't a question but an eerie matter of fact whisper.
"I don't know," he spit each word, "And that's why, oh, fuck, Maka." He grabbed her again, bringing her to his chest as he pressed a desperate kiss to her hairline, feeling the last of that hesitation crumbling away. "You don't fucking get it. I've wanted to, I've thought about it for months. Kissing you, touching you, admitting that I didn't want to be alone but all of that meant opening the door to the possibility that just as soon as I had you I'd lose you. I will fucking fight for you, Maka, I will, but even I know I'm not perfect."
Maka's hand slid along his bare chest and while he couldn't imagine being more breathless after his admission she stole the rest of his air as they trembled up his neck and into his hair, tilting his head so that when she lifted hers he was there to meet her, lips stealing another kiss. It should have been bittersweet, his words still lingering venomously on his tongue, but he found it more beautiful than the last especially as she refused to let him go, lingering slowly until he was gasping for air. As they parted her fingers continued to toy in his hair. "Can I stay with you while I think?"
"You should really sleep," he murmured.
"So should you," she urged back. "But maybe we can, just together. Please?"
"Please," his laugh after was breathless with incredulity. "You're asking like I'm going to say no."
"You're not?" Maka took this as all the permission she needed, sliding down the wall and into the covers. She reached for him and like a dream pulled him down next to her, his cheek resting against her chest as her heart started to echo in his ear. The sound and touch itself were overwhelming, Soul suddenly feeling that empty longing calling for his tears. It was something he didn't know he needed or wanted until that moment, the tenderness of it stunning him. "Comfortable?" Her fingers went back to working through his hair.
"Are you?" Against his better judgment, Soul let his hand travel along her stomach and drift to her side, pulling her tightly to him.
"I'm sure my arm will eventually go numb," she laughed softly. "But for now… at least I get to feel like I have everything I want."