I know I thought I said I was going to be done, but apparently not. This is totally going somewhere. Enjoy.
The way that Soul wished he could have woken up that morning was face to face with Maka. For someone it took months to even get up the nerve to kiss, that was a pipe-dream for sure and he had left her dorm after a few more deep kisses and whispered sweetnesses. Instead, he awoke to the crash of his door as it practically flew off the hinges, Black Star and Kim instantly surveying the room as if looking for treasure.
"She isn't here," Soul groaned, throwing the sheet over his face.
"Told you!" Kim almost squealed in delight. "Pay up!"
"No, he went to her place last night. Still a hookup!" Black Star shot back.
Kim ripped the sheet from Soul. "You left the party?"
It was a battle he was never going to win so Soul relinquished his sheet and his rest, slowing sitting up in bed. "I dropped her off at her dorm. That was all." He enunciated each of the words in the last sentence before sliding his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Money, please!" Kim turned her attention back to Black Star who was finally caving and reaching in his pocket for his wallet.
"You get another hug?" Black Star's only validation after losing cash came through teasing Soul, obviously.
"I don't kiss and tell," Soul grumbled, running his fingers through his hair and over his face to wipe the sleep away.
"No way, Soul!" Kim, newly invigorated by cash in hand, jumped on his bed to shake him by the shoulders. "You were way too smooth last night. Not even a kiss? Did the Wes thing ruin it?"
Black Star followed suit, climbing on the bed to lean over his other shoulder. "The Wes thing definitely ruined it. Did you see the veins pop out on his neck when he came back inside? As if his mug wasn't ugly enough already!"
Soul sent a hand smashing into Black Star's face, crushing him down into the bed. "The Wes thing didn't ruin anything."
"Meaning you did get a kiss?" Kim was tempted to lean in but considering what Black Star got for his transgressions, she held back but still gave his shoulder another little shake.
"Did you get a kiss from Ox?" Soul threw back, eyeing her as he leaned into his planted hand on Black Star's face, threatening to smother him.
"If I tell, you tell," Kim crossed her arms, her lip quivered a little.
Soul moved his hands to clasp Black Star's ears. He knew it wouldn't necessarily keep the information from him, but at this point in the morning, Soul was not exactly interested in what he could guess was going to be an exuberant reaction. "Yes."
"Yes," Kim echoed pertly.
"Good for you," Soul laughed, finally freeing his hands from Black Star who took a gulp of air.
Kim put a hand over the blush on her cheek. "Same. But not a hook-up, right?"
"You can keep your money," Soul nodded.
"It's more important that you're happy." Kim's soft smile disarmed him.
Soul feigned fright, his hand grasping at his chest. "Kimial Diehl, did you just prioritize my emotions over cash?"
"Why are you all so loud?" Kilik was gripping the doorway, his other hand clutching his still aching head which had only been exacerbated by his roommates.
"Soul has a girlfriend!" Kim chirped.
Black Star was finally back to consciousness, grasping at Soul desperately. "What? How? And why? And who's going to be my wingman?"
Kilik, even with his unhappy body, moved swiftly to grab Black Star by the collar, pulling him from Soul and the bed. "You're supposed to say congrats, idiot. But for now, you're all supposed to shut the fuck up so I can rest." Kilik shot a look at Kim who mimed locking her lips before he continued to drag Black Star out.
Kim gave Soul's shoulder one more push. "Really, though, Maka seems nice."
"She is," Soul whispered, letting out a dreamy sigh regardless of how sappy it might have sounded.
She smiled through rolling her eyes and slipped off his bed, moving to the door with quiet steps so as not to incur Kilik's wrath. There was a momentary pause at the door and she looked over her shoulder, shooting him another out of character warm smile. "You deserve this, Soul."
He blinked, trying to process this person who was masquerading as Kim. "Are you still drunk?"
"Shut up." She waved a hand dismissively at him before closing the door behind her.
Soul waited for the sounds in the house to dissipate before reaching for his phone, weighing it in his hand. He wanted to text her and this new, strange gut reaction was telling him it should be gushy and saccharine and- "Uncool," he groaned. He lay back on the bed before clicking on her name. "I have to work tonight. Lunch? Coffee?" Translation: I want to see you, please, I'll take anything. But at least it wasn't lovey-dovey.
He flipped away from her name momentarily, clicking on Wes. If he scrolled up all he'd see was a wall of one-sided conversations, maybe an 'OK' or 'No' thrown here or there. He had to be better than that. "Meet me tonight at work? I swear I won't be a jerk." Maybe the last part was too much but it was the closest he felt he could get to an apology, acknowledging that he was an asshole.
Maka's name blinked first. "Coffee, please. 2?"
"I'll pick you up?"
"Yes."
He paused, his face growing hot and his stomach tying itself up in a knot. "Can I kiss you when I see you?" Normally, he'd just do, but damn it did he find himself wanting her permission for some reason, like everything about her was something he had to work to deserve.
He was hoping for a 'yes,' or an 'of course,' but her message shot back, "As long as you're not licking my face or anything."
Soul snorted, a goofy grin splitting his lips. "I can't guarantee anything."
Wes's message interrupted, causing his face to falter. "You OK?"
A tendril of guilt blossomed in his chest. "Fine. Just meet me." He should add an apology or some more acknowledgment that he was a colossal jerk but he couldn't force his fingers to move.
"Before or after? You work 8-12?"
"What's best for you?" He couldn't imagine his brother out that late, or even at a bar that late, but maybe that was the brother he remembered from years ago when they were living under the same roof.
"See you at 12."
Soul stared at the screen and heard his teenage self screaming, grumbling, and groaning that seeing Wes was a waste. Whatever their relationship was it was irreparable and Wes's attentions and intentions would always just been motivated by pity. Everything about him was to be pitied. He was a talentless slacker that didn't deserve the attention he did get let alone anything new and-
The buzz of his phone broke his train of thought. "I think you can at least guarantee a kiss?"
He stared at her text, that smile creeping back along with the memories of her grabbing him, kissing him, feeling through his hair in a way that just drove him wild. Maybe all those other, old thoughts were bullshit.
Maka was surprised to see him already idling in front of the dorm by the time she got down, his helmet resting on his lap. He had been drumming absently on the top of the helmet until his eyes fell on her. A huge grin broke across his face and he strode off the bike, his rush making her heart skip a beat. That daringly cute little text he had sent had left her on pins and needles, filling her with a strange anxiety about a kiss she knew was coming and knew she wanted more than anything.
That feeling melted away as he grabbed her, pulling her into the lingering hug that they had perfected. "Hey," his whisper was deep and throaty next to her ear.
"Hi." She felt breathless and it certainly didn't help that his hand was moving up her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
When his hand met her hairline, fingers just barely tangled into her golden tresses, he guided her back and tilted her head. It was achingly slow as if he were testing each part of her lips and by doing so creating a wild sensitivity that sent a thrill up her spine. There was no way she could even open her eyes right away, feeling as if all of her was too weak. "Wow," the embarrassment of that couldn't even hit her.
"Yeah," he breathed across her lips. Soul released her slowly, begrudgingly. "I should have saved that for later."
"You mean that's all I get?" Maka teased as she took his hand, pulling him back towards the bike.
"Depends," Soul grinned, those sharky teeth gleaming.
Maka tried to frown but couldn't break her smile, "On what?"
"It's always give and take, Maka." They made it to the bike and he hopped on, putting his helmet back into his lap. When he went to look up at her, to continue whatever teasing he was about to accomplish, he was instead met with a cascade of her hair.
Maka had caught him by surprise, stealing a play from his book with another subtle, lingering kiss. "Does that make it even?" Her face was flushed and her brain was reeling from the impossibility of this being her since she'd never been one to kiss in public let alone twice on just the walk to the parking lot.
That dumbfounded look on his face made it completely worth it, the way that he just stared at her in a daze before laughing. "Damn it, Maka."
"What?" She tried to look innocent but a laugh broke through.
"You're dangerous, you know that?" He reached behind him and grabbed the extra helmet, pushing it into her hands. "Come on, before you start any more trouble."
Maka giggled as she fixed the helmet to her head, displaying her chin to him so he could clip it. When that was finished she slipped behind him, her hands disappearing into his pockets just as always. That this was how it always happened was amazing to her, the continuity. She eased into him as he started down the road, cruising through the slow streets of campus until he reached the real roads. Not knowing where they were going created no worries in her mind and she simply enjoyed the sights as they passed by.
The small town that surrounded the campus grew into the city, taking her closer to Reapers but not quite that far, slowing to turn into a parking garage. He pulled into a reserved spot and cut the engine, waiting for her to move. Maka dismounted, going about the usual steps of reinvigorating her hair after being crushed to her skull. "Reserved?" she questioned as soon as he took off his helmet.
"Uh, well, it's one of my few luxuries." He shrugged as he took the rest of his gear, stuffing it in the saddlebag. "If I'm not at the house or Reapers I'm here."
"What's here?" She held out her hand to him, laughing as he still took a moment to stare at it before happily grabbing at her.
That devious smile was back on his face as he intertwined their fingers. "Coffee for one, but I think the rest should be a surprise." Soul led her to the stairwell, taking her through the door to the lobby of the building rather than the street. It was stark white, the track lights muted because of the natural light pouring in from the long swathes of paned glass in the ceilings. Maka's head shot up as she let herself be pulled along, watching the sky pass overhead.
The heavenly aroma hit her in addition to the memory of the first time he'd gotten her a cup. "Is this where you always get coffee?" The scent seemed too familiar as he pulled her to the counter.
"Yeah, but I usually bring a thermos and take the cups. That's the only way it'll survive the saddlebag." He settled to the back of the line, his hand drifting from hers and moving to rest at the small of her back.
It felt like this hand fit there and she found herself leaning a little into it. "Smart."
"I wish I could say that it didn't take me a couple times to figure that out," he laughed. "You want anything special?"
Maka shrugged, "The regular, please."
Soul order regular coffees, taking his hand from her waist only when he had to add the little bit of cream in his that it took to make it drinkable. "Still don't get how you can drink it black."
"You're just not tough enough," she tried to sigh as if disappointed but it dissolved into laughter.
"Ouch," Soul winced. He let his free hand slip back to hers as he led her down the tight hallway.
The hallway opened up to a security desk with fine metal lettering. "An art museum?" Now, Maka barely knew anything about him and she had expected to be surprised by one or two things, but this one sat at the top of the list.
A younger blond man waved from the desk, making sure to get to his feet as they approached. "Hello, Mr. Evans!" He was too saccharine, too eager to please.
"It's just Soul, Hiro," Soul's voice dripped with aggravation, but Hiro either didn't notice or didn't have the ability to deviate from his usual script.
"Right, of course, Mr. Evans."
Maka couldn't help laughing at the way Soul's eyes seemed to bug from his head, a particular vein starting to throb in his neck.
"Just," Soul heaved a sigh. "I'm bringing in a guest today, OK?"
"Of course, Mr. Evans."
"For fuck's sake," he complained.
Hiro waved a pass at Maka, "Nice to meet you, Ms…"
Maka took the pass from him, exchanging a smile. "Albarn, Maka Albarn."
Soul groaned and started into a whisper, "You just should have left off the last name because now it's going to be-"
"Ms. Albarn! Enjoy your visit!"
The deadpan on Soul's face was priceless, worth whatever the admission to this museum was a million times over. "Thanks, Hiro," he offered as a final mutter before pulling Maka away.
"Mr. Evans," Maka whispered.
"Don't you dare." He waved his coffee cup at her menacingly.
Maka leaned into him as he slowed the pace, steering them closer to the wall and a series of Korean paintings. "But this is where you come all the time, Mr. Evans?"
"Maka, I swear," he growled.
She smiled coyly, but gave up on the game, her eyes focusing in on the fine lines and careful brushstrokes of a quiet lake scene. "But you come here a lot?"
"It's a good place to think." He watched her rather than the paintings between sips of his coffee. "And no one ever really bothers you here. Everyone's focused on the walls rather than the people."
Maka bit at her top lip as her brows furrowed. It must have looked like she was noticing something in the paint since Soul tried to follow to where her attention lay but that wasn't what had her mind turning. "Do you prefer to be alone or do you feel like you have to be?"
His fingers tightened against her back only for a second, his eyes widening as he looked at the canvas. She turned from the blues and greens to watch the red of his eyes as they tried to see something in the painting that would give him the answer. "Maybe both. Or maybe one causes the other. I tell myself I like being alone because I am so much."
"Your friends love you." His answer only felt like a tiny piece of the puzzle, and something in her wanted to push for the next piece.
"Sure, Kilik, Kim, BS, all great," Soul nodded, still focused on the canvas.
"Wes-"
"My family's something else entirely," Soul stepped over her words with a shortness she'd never heard in his voice before. "But speaking of Wes, I'm meeting him tonight."
Maka felt the clunky transition, the fact that he was purposefully leaving something behind in that conversation, but who was she to push? Two days worth of a girlfriend, two months worth of a friend? She took a few steps, Soul following along with her as she moved past to the next set of paintings. "Aren't you working?"
"After work. I'm just… I guess I'm going to try to say sorry?" Soul took another swig of coffee as he tried to get the tight knot out of his throat.
"Try not to phrase it as a question." Maka smiled softly, still too concerned about the missing pieces to actually let out a laugh.
"No guarantees," Soul sighed. "But I'm going to try."
Maka let those words linger as they moved among the paintings. She tried to concentrate on her coffee but the bitterness only enhanced the restlessness in her tongue. "You can call me tonight after if you want."
"That's past your bedtime." Soul let his hand fall from her back and searched for her fingers, taking her hand and leading her into a smaller room to the right of the main hall. With the skylights gone the room seemed dimmer, the classical paintings on the wall adding to the eeriness created by the loss of light.
"I don't mind." His voice sounded louder in the emptiness of the room and she realized that they were completely alone now, not another soul meandering.
"I, uh," he cleared his throat and finally stopped his feet. He had positioned them in front of a large canvas where a woman looked contemplatively at a candle flame, the light creating a halo of shadow around her in a dark room. "This is my favorite. Georges de La Tour's The Magdalen with the Smoking Flame."
"She looks lost." The figures eyes were entranced by the flame, her own existence and thought captured in that tiny blaze.
"Technically she is," Soul took a huge breath as if he were going to launch into a professional dissection of the painting. Instead, he whispered, "We're all looking for a light, and when we find it we're drawn in." Before she tried to see it in the figure, she turned to look at him and it hit her that he hadn't been looking at the painting but at her, a relaxed smile gently melting away his stiffness from the transition. "I won't call you tonight, but I promise we'll talk about it this week, OK?"
"Alright." Maka felt the heat climbing up her cheeks, the intensity of his eyes making that blush blossom. She forced her eyes back to the painting but felt him still focused on her as his thumb ran over her knuckles. A heated thought rose in the back of her head: I hope he's looking at me like that.