Super long update! Sorry it took as long as it did.
It the first Wednesday in December, not a normal study day but as Soul was realizing, once you crept towards finals every day was a study day for Maka Albarn. He was currently allowed to be in the same room as her, his shoulder pressed against hers as they lounged in bed, but that was the full extent of his permissions. No talking, no teasing, no flirting, no kissing for the designated two hours. Touching, other than their shoulders, had been completely prohibited. It was driving him insane.
Soul had been able to breeze through his notes for Calculus in the first hour and since she was studying Lit, pouring over pages worth of analysis, he knew he wasn't going to get her to change to Bio for the sake of some entertainment. It was heaven-sent when his phone began to buzz, "It's Wes."
She paused her work and sighed, pressing her cheek against his shoulder and closing her eyes to rest them from the pages.
For once, he accepted the call, "Hi, Wes."
"Hey, Soul," Wes was just oozing excitement. "Are you busy?"
"Just studying a little." Soul used the phone call as an excuse to trace a hand down her leg. They definitely were his favorite.
"Oh, didn't mean to interrupt," he paused as if waiting for the argument but found none, "but ever since we talked last, Elizabeth has been a force to be reckoned with about meeting you."
"Oh, your fiance?" His drifting fingers stopped and Maka's eyes fluttered open, looking at him.
"Yes, and I put off calling because, well-"
Soul sighed roughly, ending Wes mid-stutter, "Yeah, I usually only do small doses, I know, Wes, it's OK."
There was a beat of silence before Wes found his excitement again. "She wanted to do dinner tomorrow."
"You did put it off," he couldn't help himself from laughing. "Wes, can you, uh, give me one second?"
"Of course, check your calendar."
Soul hit mute just in time for another healthy laugh. As if he had a calendar.
"Everything OK?" Maka smiled softly, hope blossoming from all the laughter.
Soul liked the break and took advantage, brushing his lips against hers. "Are you busy tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's our usual study date," she narrowed her eyes at him, looking from him to the phone. "Why?"
"Well, Wes is trying to invite me to dinner."
"Invite you," Maka pointed out.
His heart moved out of time, his eyes searching her face like he wanted to memorize it. "As soon as I tell him I have a girlfriend, it'll be an invite us."
Maka stared back for a moment, slipping her hand over his chest. "You're ready to do that?"
Wes didn't necessarily mean his parents since he was slowly coming to the realization that there hadn't been a time where information worked that way, but she was right, he still felt nervous, like he was giving away a safety net. "Yeah." This time she pressed against him, landing an urgent kiss that made him almost forget the phone. She patted his chest to break the spell and Soul looked feebly at the phone for another second before unmuting. "Wes?"
"Is it alright?"
"Yeah, just one thing," Soul cleared his throat and his brother waited. "I, uh, I'd like to bring my girlfriend with me, if that's OK."
He was sure he heard Wes choke a little on the other end. "Your girlfriend?"
"If you're trying to say with my looks you're surprised, remember how many people say we look identical, Wes." It was a nervous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.
Wes matched it. "No, it's just, that's new, right?"
"Just a few months, Wes." Soul's eyes focused back on Maka, finding her trying to snuggle against him to look at if she weren't listening.
"Please, bring her." The amount of warmth in his voice was overwhelming, even through the phone, and he felt something that he hadn't in a long time, that delicate care. Well, not exactly true since it was an everyday occurrence with Maka, but with his family?
It was a new kind of smile gracing his face, not that stretching grin that made Maka's heart flutter but a contented, calm smile. "Yeah, OK. Tomorrow night then."
"I won't keep you anymore, I'll text you the details tomorrow but I'll have a car pick you up at-"
"The Spartoi dorm. But, really, Wes, a car?" Soul sighed, not sure he was ready for all of this to come back to him, chauffeuring, the wining and dining, having to wear a tie.
"Come on, Soul." Wes seemed playful and Soul found himself not wanting to actively ruin it.
"OK. Bye, Wes." The phone was away from his ear before Wes could add anything more, Soul's finger pressed to the red circle on the screen. He barely took his finger off before a round of texts came through with time and outfit expectations which brought a short grunt of annoyance from Soul.
"We're double dating?" Maka murmured into his shirt, maybe having taken the snuggling too seriously, drifting close to sleep.
He finally noticed her waning and slid his arm behind her to turn his chest into a pillow, his cheek pressing against her hair. "Looks like it. Also, I'm not sorry to tell you it's a dress-up date."
"Not sorry? Soul, I have one day. What if I don't have anything?" She tried to squirm away, disgruntled but Soul kept her clung to him.
"I hate the way this sounds, but I'll take you shopping if I have to." He cringed at his own words and pressed a kiss into her hair as if that was an apology.
"No, I've been meaning to go with Tsubaki anyway," she grumbled into his shirt. Her hand crept across his stomach until it latched around his waist, cementing herself to him. Soul let his hand loose from her shoulders, running soft lines down her back.
As much as he was tangled up with her, his thoughts were also a muddled mess, not allowing concentration on the one that really mattered. By the time he was ready to tell her that he was scared, not of how she would be for his brother, but of how much of himself he was placing in her hands, she was asleep, her breathing soft and slow against his chest.
Soul's first date at sixteen had left him with less anxiety than this moment. Of course it was partially that he was going to have to be with his brother, meet Elizabeth, but it was dawning on him that it was also sharing Maka, bringing her out into this world that he'd never gotten used to and, while there, be forced not to find comfort in her touches, her words. This was going to be agony, and he was slowly drifting into those disjointed feelings that pre-dated Maka.
That was until he caught a glimpse of her in the glass doors. He had been waiting in the night air, trying to make the cold force away the discomfort of his feelings. Maka had worn her hair down but it was curled, soft flowing ringlets waving as she hurried towards him. Her black peacoat gave away nothing underneath and for a second the delightful thought popped into his head that maybe there wasn't anything there. As if to prove it to himself he slipped a hand into her coat as soon as she reached him, fingers coming into contact with what felt like silk under his fingers. He covered up his thought by hugging her close, "Was shopping successful?"
"I think so." But her smile was still hesitant when she pulled away from him.
"Can I see?" He was about to unbutton her coat for her when she slapped at his hand, pushing him back towards the car.
Maka pushed the rest of his hand back, using her other arm to secure her coat. "You'll see at the restaurant."
Soul huffed, opening the door to the car, watching carefully as she climbed in for any hints. There was a momentary flash of a soft, rosy pink but other than that, he was left in the cold, literally and figuratively. He counted to ten, sucking in the chilly air before sinking into the car. "You're being cruel." Soul slid next to her, hand grasping hers in her lap.
They both lurched forward a little as the car began to move. "I imagine it'll be one of many cruelties this evening," she squeezed his hand, "And I think you'll survive them all."
Soul groaned, "If you say so." He leaned over, pushing aside the wave of her hair to expose her neck just enough to plant his lips there. "I'm just glad you're here." The turn of the car slid him a little tighter against her and he let it, his lips pressing back to the same spot, taking in the burst of honeysuckle scent from her skin. "There are a few things you should remember tonight."
"Oh?" Her voice had a dreamy quality and when he lifted his eyes and face to her, her eyes had drifted shut, a smile shimmering on her lips.
"Never say no to a drink, eat whatever you want," his hand squeezed hers a little tighter, "and don't fall in love with my brother, OK?"
A little laugh fell from her lips before she opened her eyes, "All of those sound easy to do, especially since I'm kind of taken right now."
"Try to remember that." His lopsided smile was warming and maybe the anxiety was melting away to something close to bliss. He watched her as her eyes focused on the city turned phantasmagoria as the car sped into the city. While it was too much to hope that Wes would abandon the affluence of the family, he still picked a place less high society refined while still being agonizingly hip, a place designed exactly for the trust-fund kids they were constantly labeled as.
As the car pulled up to the front and Soul pushed out onto the sidewalk, he felt a particular pinprick of anxiety hit him. He was back in the old world, one he never enjoyed. Soul turned back and helped Maka from the car, her delicate hand squeezing his before a word could be said about the look on his face. "We're going to have a good time." She sounded victorious with an enthusiasm that made him crack a smile.
"I just want to see that dress." He pulled her towards the restaurant, a young man in a suit opening the door for him before he could manage to even get a hand on it, allowing him to slip his hand to her back and usher her in.
"You have a one-track mind," Maka grinned.
His other hand wandered, playing at one of the buttons on her coat. "Sure, it's always on you."
Maka rolled her eyes dramatically, encouraging another laugh from him before swatting his busy hand away. Achingly slow, Maka unbuttoned her coat, turning from him so he could take it off her shoulders. Soul forced himself to pull it gently, exposing the illusion of bare skin. The dress came to a soft V at her back, veering into tulle illusion sleeves embroidered with delicate golden leaves shimmering down to her elbows. The rest was a soft pink silkenly flowing to just above her knee. As she turned, he noticed the dip of the neckline, that sweetheart shape accenting her delicate collarbone, as well as the rest of her curvature. "Well?"
Soul would have dropped her coat if it hadn't been for the kind Maitre D' snatching it, his fingers feeling loose and tingly. He'd seen her dressed in a hundred ways, but this left him without an ounce of suave available, suddenly transporting him back to adolescent Soul. "Maka…"
Annoyance almost grabbed at her, fed by that still lingering worry about her own shape. Instead, she forced a small smile. "Speechless?"
He took a step towards her, eliminating the distance between them before bringing his hand under her chin, tilting her head so he could place a tender kiss on her cheek. "I wish I could tell you everything I'm thinking," he whispered hoarsely next to her ear. He stayed there for another agonizing moment, his breath sending a chill up her spine.
Maka forced a hand to his chest but it was weak, without will. "Soul, give the man your jacket."
Soul gave her distance as if her hand had pushed for it and cleared his throat, slipping the leather jacket off his shoulders. His face was alight with color and he tried in vain to wipe a hand over it to reset.
She grabbed his elbow, pulling him towards the hostess as she playfully plucked at his tie. "You should wear one of these more often."
"They're ridiculous," he almost wheezed back, still not fully recovered.
"But you look handsome," she cooed at him, pleased to see him blush again.
Soul tried to ignore the situation and his growing discomfort by accosting the hostess with his name, barking it like an order, "Soul Evans." He heard Maka giggle but kept his eyes on the hostess, her smile thin and half annoyed, probably at his tone.
"This way." Without much else, she walked them along the lines of tables. Just as Soul had thought, the restaurant was somewhere between trendy and classical, tables looking like they were made of reclaimed wood with short backed chairs that always pressed in all the wrong places. Because you can only be cool if you're uncomfortable. The walls alternated between the bare concrete and exposed brick as if having a finished looking space took away from the true aesthetic.
Before they got to the table Soul could already see the distinctive hair they shared and as they rounded the table he was hit by Wes's smile, another thing that he could see mirrored between the two of them. "Hey, Wes."
"Soul!" Equilibrium was lost as Wes stood and threw an arm around Soul's shoulder and pulled him in. He stood frozen for only a second, his mind running in circles about when the last time he had hugged a person let alone his brother besides Maka before he felt Maka prod him. Soul finally reached an arm up, patting Wes in the middle of the back.
The two detached, Soul staring in his brother's face for a moment, for once actually savoring the older man's excitement. He snapped out of it, realizing the secondary purpose to this meeting, "Wes, this is Maka."
Wes's sweet smile was instantly on her, taking her hand in a soft shake. "Maka, you look lovely."
Maka didn't seem to give away a moment's nervousness, her smile mimicking Wes's. "Thank you, and thank you for inviting us."
The woman next to Wes stood, pushing past Wes to hold out a hand to Maka. She was only an inch or two shorter than Wes and that was without heels, which she didn't seem the type to wear in the first place. "No, really, it was overdue." Maka took the hand.
"Sorry," Wes alternated to flustered, a gentle hand coming to Elizabeth's shoulders. "This is Elizabeth, my fiance."
"It's still strange to hear that," she laughed as her eyes looked over Wes for a moment. "I'm sorry that you're carrying the weight of being the first to know." Elizabeth sat down first, prompting the rest to follow suit. "And please, don't call me Elizabeth. I started going by Lizzie ever since I read Pride & Prejudice."
Soul hadn't ever really been involved in his brother's life but had seen some girls come and go and Elizabeth, Lizzie didn't fit his usual picture. Normally it was the blond used to be a cheerleader carrying the designer handbag. Lizzie wasn't wearing anything more than a form-fitting black sheath dress, her hair short, even shorter than Wes's, but styled impeccably. She was sophisticated, maybe even a little brooding. Definitely not the norm and Soul couldn't stop himself from feeling intrigued.
"It's no big deal," Soul shrugged. "But that means you haven't even told your parents either."
"Well," Lizzie sighed, "I have about as much faith in my parents' excitement about the match as your brother does in yours." As soon as the words left her lips she motioned for the waiter, interrupting any addition to that thought. "Would you all like wine or…?"
"Oh," Maka hesitated but felt Soul's fingers pinch at her elbow, a playful smile on his face. Never say no to a drink. "That would be lovely."
"Nothing too sweet," Soul grimaced.
Wes shook his head with a laugh. "Don't worry, Lizzie's not the sweet type."
"I don't think that's the way you should phrase it," Lizzie smirked, her hand running over Wes's shoulder. "We'll have a bottle of the Chateauneuf-du-Pape." She ordered it with the curl of the French pronunciation on her tongue and Soul started to rethink his original assumption, that maybe luxury was her expertise.
"Why wouldn't either of your parents like that you're in love?" At that moment, Soul couldn't be more thankful for Maka. Soul would have made an ass of himself, asked what Lizzie's money situation was like or were her parents snobs like his, but there Maka had done it in just about the sweetest, most innocent way possible. Beauty and charm.
Lizzie and Wes exchanged glances, short, punctuated laughs. "It's old money, new money," Wes explained as if that said it all.
"Our parents are old money," Soul filled in the blank. "Mom and Dad both come from long lines of silver-spoons. I'm not even sure if Mom ever had to work. Dad does I think just to have time away from Mom."
"While my father started his own business at sixteen, patenting and designing different plastics projects. My mother was a vicious corporate lawyer for one of the first businesses my father ever took over." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Idol riches infuriate my father-"
"And getting your hands dirty is a sin to ours," Wes finished. "But the last time I was playing in France, Lizzie, for some reason, decided to be there."
"I was hiding in Poitiers," Lizzie sighed. "And I had heard there was a famous, handsome violin player in Paris only for a few nights. I left the Jardin des Plantes de Poitiers and have been hopping around with Wes ever since."
Soul wouldn't even touch the intricacy of the words, but Maka perked. "A garden? I took French in high school and I'm sure that's maybe only one of ten words I remember."
"A large botanical garden in Poitiers where I had the pleasure of being a part-time botanist. Supposed to be full-time businesswoman, but prefer the way plants don't try to talk your ear off or yell at the earliest inconvenience." The waiter returned with the wine, letting Lizzie have a sip to inspect the bottle. She nodded and the glasses at the table were filled.
Soul finally let himself fall into a social grace, sure that somewhere his mother would be compelled to smile at this very moment and not know why, and he held up his glass. "To your engagement." It felt lame, sounded worse, but the look on Wes's face trumped all of it, the shimmering smile of excitement and gratitude. Maka's hand slipped onto his thigh, giving a gentle squeeze that only spurred that warm feeling. How the hell am I doing all of this right? How in the fucking hell is this going smoothly?
Maka didn't even seem to be paying attention to her own hand, taking a tentative sip of the wine with a face that so easily told she enjoyed it. "Does that mean you've been here the whole time with Wes since he started his professorship?"
"On and off," Lizzie swirled her wine before taking another sip herself. "Wes can be very convincing when he wants you to stay, though, so more on than off which is what got us in this predicament in the first place. I was supposed to go back to Poitiers almost a year ago, but I suppose that'll be for the honeymoon now."
"I've been able to convince her to stay for almost two years now." Wes beamed at Lizzie, a smirk drawing over her features in reply.
"Don't gloat," she whispered before turning her attention back to Maka. "But that's enough about us, what about you? I hear very few stories about Soul and didn't know you even existed, Maka, until yesterday."
"There's good reason you don't hear much about me: not much to tell." Soul made sure to take the grumbling out of his voice, even though it was his first instinct. "Maka's the only exciting thing in my life, anyway." Those fingers on his thigh squeezed again and he knew she was looking at him but couldn't take his eyes off the wine glass, too overwhelmed by his own sappiness.
"He was assigned as my lab partner," Maka didn't wait for him and he could hear the excitement bubbling in her throat. "I did everything I could to scare him away, but I guess-"
"It was too late. It was over the minute I saw her," Soul finished for her.
"I didn't picture you as a romantic," Lizzie cooed.
Soul shrugged, taking a long sip of his wine, trying to focus on the juicy yet bitter tang. As a saving grace, the waiter arrived, specials to detail and menus to explain. It was an agonizing display that Soul relished as it got him out of articulating an answer to Lizzie's thought. Because he wasn't romantic. He didn't send flowers or chocolates. He didn't plan weekend getaways to Bed & Breakfasts. He didn't buy jewelry. That was all the definition of romance, right? As if he had some template to compare it to other than the movies.
While he definitely cared about her, there weren't any of those overt displays of affection. All he'd done was keep her mind off her dad once or twice, take her for late-night rides, kiss her deeply any chance he got. That wasn't romance… was it? The waiter finally intruded into his mental fight over semantics, forcing Soul to order. He drifted back into his argument as soon as his hopes for food were released and seemed intent on only answering his own thoughts, only singling in when Maka started talking again.
"It's been four months since we met." Maka was all smiles and delight and he was glad to see she had already drained her glass, on to Lizzie pouring her a second.
Soul put a hand over his own glass, Lizzie avoiding while she poured seconds for the rest of the table. "She won't be able to come to the announcement, though." There was no way in hell he was going to let her say any different, but he kept his eyes forward as if he wasn't man enough to challenge her with a look.
And challenge she did still with that chipper voice, "But we could do dinner after, of course. Just family stuff around Christmas makes my time tight, but I'll be back before New Years."
"Perfect," Wes seemed more enthusiastic than everyone else at the table combined.
"She won't be coming to the house, Wes," Soul could hear the scolding in his voice. It felt like a step back, but damn it, he had to protect her. She was too willing to head right into danger.
Wes reined himself in with a clearing of his throat. "No, of course not."
"Soul," Maka started but stopped as soon as she saw the blankness on his face, that old coolness that she'd never seen directed at her and had only witnessed that night at the party. "Um, either way, before New Years we should do something again, the four of us."
"I'd like that," Lizzie celebrated.
The rest of the evening Soul felt stretched into eternity. He had known the slow build-up of mess had started even before seeing her but now with the addition of his constant question of the concept of romance and a battle about seeing his parents it had become a burn in his gut worse than anything a few fingers of bourbon could do. And sticking to just that one glass of wine wasn't helping.
Lizzie continued to be charming, to seem like the perfect girl to put up against his Mom and Dad. New money or no, she had the kind of social skills, the pedigree needed, so while she was at least a breath of fresh air among rich girls she was still just that. She had money, and while she may use it better, or live a more interesting life with it, she still had everything she wanted from day one. And she would play nicely with his parents, impress them eventually with stories of France and flowers.
But Maka… she'd mentioned her father was a detective, her mother an attorney. They divorced while she was in high school and it was still contentious, a constantly reopening wound shared by the family. Her life had been a struggle, but she was sweet, loving. But all that left her sensitive, easily hurt. How could he sacrifice her? How could he put her in danger just for him?
Dinner wrapped up perfectly fine on that thought. Soul talked Wes out of drinks afterward, telling the truth that they did have class the next day and the clock was already pushing ten. There was no slowness with putting on coats, getting her into the car, making their way back to campus. Maka had taken his hand, but his voice was still gone somewhere in his mind. He was still vacant even when the car slowed, the door opened and she started out into the night.
Maka leaned her head back in, her lips tight before letting the words come out sharply, "Come inside."
"What?" Soul snapped out of his alternate universe, staring at a face that wasn't anything like the Maka he knew.
"Come inside the dorm, please." That hardly sounded like a request and his heart started to thump in his chest.
"OK, Maka." He tapped on the driver's window, telling him to head out before following her into the chill. She waited for him, hand firmly taking his before driving him into the dorm. Scared wasn't a strong enough word for that sinking feeling that started in his chest, and as they made their way through security and the elevator he was sure this was the end of the road. He'd fucked up and she was over it, over him, and over what they had been doing for the past month.
By the time she dragged him quietly through the door of her room, shutting it behind them, Soul was on the verge of tears. Maka stared at him for a moment, assessing the entirety of his face before forcing him down to sit on the bed, hands heavy on his shoulders. "What is it?"
"What?" Soul blinked, this line of questioning completely outside of the parameters he'd set for what he had assumed would be Maka's breakup speech.
"You started off the night perfect, you were happy, but by the second half you might as well have been on another planet, Soul." She pulled her hands away, wrapping them around herself instead. "And I feel like it's me. You only got upset when the possibility of meeting your parents came up."
"We talked about this," Soul whispered weakly.
"But it's still bothering you," Maka offered before sighing. She let one hand free from her middle and it ran over her face, stopping at her lips for just a second before making her eyes refocus on him. "And what if this lasts, Soul?"
That question felt like a needle piercing into his heart. She could not have devised a more perfect question and she seemed to know it, her eyes searching his in the low light. "Can I admit that I'm scared it will?" It was nowhere close to the answer she needed, wanted, but it was what he could give.
"You can be scared, but you can't let that ruin this," she murmured. "The two of them tonight, not telling your parents a thing until the engagement? That's not where I want to end up."
"They'll meet you at the wedding. I told you." Soul stood slowly, waiting to see if she'd push him back but her hands stayed focused on herself. "They'll know who you are." He let his hands slide along her arms, getting her a step closer.
"Do you really think they'll hate me?" She pressed her lips together tightly.
"Hate you? That's not it," his voice was pleading, his fingers gripping into the flesh of her arms. "I don't trust them to see who you really are. I trust them to see that you're not a girl they introduced me to and do some stupid shit before they can act like human beings towards you." He forced his fingers to relax so he could slide his hands across her back, pulling her into a tight hug. "Wes is different. He loved you tonight because he doesn't go around with blinders on. My parents aren't capable of that."
"But if this keeps going-"
"They'll have to get over it or not. I can at least completely promise you that parental approval means jack shit," he choked out a laugh before feeling like those tears were on him again. "And please don't give me an if right now, Maka."
"It wasn't a right now if," Maka defended, but her face suddenly softened. "Did you…?"
"Come on, you dragged me up here all pissed," Soul tried to joke, to dissipate that sob that wanted to break from his chest.
"Idiot," she murmured before pressing on her tiptoes so her lips could meet his. He was sure that would be enough to put the lid of that urge but instead, he found it intensifying, the way her kiss was gentle, eventually trailing from his mouth along his jaw as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. "Everything else was alright tonight?" Her whisper was warm against his ear.
"Elizabeth seemed alright, Wes was Wes, the food was good." He relaxed his hands to her waist, fingers flexing in the thin fabric of her dress. "You, though, Maka," he sighed and pressed his cheek against hers. "It's not fair sometimes, the way I feel like I can't catch my breath around you. That dress tonight definitely did it, but also the way you never let me feel lost with that hand on my leg, and even right now, calling me out on my shit without letting me get away with it."
Maka made a small sound, halfway between a laugh and approval, a lingering tone of pride that made Soul a little woozy.
"Maka…" he cleared his throat, trying to turn his head so it didn't assault her ear. This prompted her to release him a little, to focus on his face with those big green eyes again.
"Yes?"
"Am I, uh," again, another clearing of the throat as if it would force it to give up the words. "Look, I told you I don't do this, I mean, I haven't been with someone like this before, so…"
"Yes?" A grin was pulling at the corner of her mouth but she was trying not to, trying to listen to his adorable stuttering as if the end result was serious.
Spit it out, idiot. Soul watched her smile start and he could fill his face burn. When his voice sounded again he could have sworn the stress made it crack as if he were still in the throes of puberty. "Am I romantic enough?"
The smile could no longer be contained, a laugh feeding it. "What?"
Soul groaned as she attempted to rein in her laughter to no avail. "Damn it, Maka, come on. Lizzie said it. That she didn't figure me for a romantic and I'm not, I don't think, and does that mean I'm doing it wrong?"
"What do you think being romantic is?" She finally forced her giggling into submission but her smile was just for him, that warm understanding that he so rarely ever saw in anyone else.
"Tonight was the first night I took you anywhere nice and I don't buy you things or… I don't know. I'm a homebody, I work, none of that is romantic." He started to groan again, but she pulled at his tie, loosening it along with some of the tightness in his chest.
"You buy me coffee almost every day." She finished with the tie, throwing somewhere off towards the desk. "You take me to the museum and always guide me around with your hand on my back." Next, her fingers started to touch at the button of his shirt. "You never push or prod or force."
"That's not romantic," he instantly corrected. "Maybe the other stuff, but not that. OK? That's because… because I care."
"I know." She finally slipped a button back through the hole, then a second, a third. "And it's not fair, but I want to ask you to stay tonight. Not to, you know, well, I guess that's the unfair part, but I don't think I want you to be alone. You shouldn't be alone tonight, not with the way you were thinking."
"You make it sound like I'm on suicide watch." It wasn't a joke; he wasn't trying to be funny. The worst part was thinking about what he must have looked like to her. What had the second half of dinner been?
"You just… you looked at me that way, Soul, like with your brother. I felt you shutting me out, too, and I won't let it happen." She finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid her hands under the fabric.
Soul watched her, easing his arms so she could take off his shirt, leaving him in his white t-shirt. He was trying to focus himself in the camp of we're-not-doing-anything-but-sleeping but holy shit was his skin on fire just from her slipping off his shirt. How did that even make any sense? He cleared his throat, trying to forget her touch. "I didn't mean to look at you like that."
"I know," she sighed before turning, pulling the ringlets of hair from her back. "Will you unzip me?"
Soul swallowed dumbly, blinking before letting a hand touch to the zipper. Does she even know what she's doing to me? "Sure, but, Maka…" Please don't change in front of me, for the love of God, I won't be able to handle it. The zipper plunged down as all the breath left his lungs.
"Just give me a minute, OK?" She walked over to her drawers, the back of her dress hanging open to show the curve of her back, the delicate porcelain skin that probably hadn't been touched by the sun since high summer. She grabbed a handful of clothes before turning back to him, throwing a ball of fabric at him. "Your shorts from Halloween."
"Thanks." He unfolded the blue ball to catch some of her scent, that fresh laundry smell mixed with some enticing floral addition.
"Be right back." Maka walking through that door was both a relief and a new level of torture.
He tried to fill the time with untying his shoes, slipping off his socks and slacks before swapping for his shorts, but it wasn't long enough. He looked at the bed, trying to figure out the social etiquette here with no previous comparisons. When he was in a girl's bed it was for reasons that didn't include sleeping and, damn it, he'd never actually done this either. Falling asleep at a girl's house was absurd.
"You OK?" The hand that she placed on his shoulder almost made him jump out of his skin.
"Yeah." But the answer was closer to no as she pressed him towards the bed, forcing him to slip in first. He lay there stiffly, his side as close to the edge as possible, eyeing her as she slid next to him and turned her body to face him. Most of tonight had been a nasty, clenched mess in his mind and for a second he was about to let it play out in her bed. "Come here."
Maka curled closer to him, Soul's arm wrapping around her shoulders as she brought her head to his chest. Her arm draped over his stomach before letting her leg wrap around him. "Is this weird?"
"Yes," he murmured, "But good weird. Us weird. Just another thing I'm not well-versed with."
It was silent besides the sound of her fingers playing in his shirt, running along the fabric. She took a deep breath, "Not used to sleeping with girls?" The way her voice faltered he could tell she almost hadn't asked the question.
He squeezed her before planting a soothing kiss on her forehead. "Nope." He gingerly rested his lips against the same spot, his other hand moving to quiet her fingers. "Close your eyes. You have class early tomorrow, don't you?"
She tilted her head just enough to see his eyes, to search over him with that intense concern. That edge in him was still there, his jaw still set a little too hard, but as his hand squeezed hers she saw an infinitesimal hint of contentment. Maka leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on his lips before putting her head back to his chest, listening to his heart until sleep crept in.