Looks like this is the dominant fic in my brain right now. Hope you enjoy. Special thanks to Michiamotippete whose reviews sustain me.

Without even knowing it, Soul had made his mother a liar as soon as they got back to the hotel. He had laid her down on the bed, undressed her slowly, and touched her tenderly without a hint of want for himself. It wasn't hunger but the desire to soothe, to bring some kind of joy to a lackluster, stressful day and she could feel it in every touch. It was with that in her mind and as his mouth stole away the last few breathy sounds of her climax that she started to undress him with the intention of jumping that final hurdle, letting him have her.

When she finally asked breathlessly if he had a condom, the moment came to an abrupt halt. You would have guessed that she had asked if he was ready to jump off the building now, a strange mix of apprehension and withering control. Next came excuses and subtle redirection, leaving Maka dumbfounded that she'd just been told, in the gentlest sense, no.

To add to the strangeness, he seemed disjointed after that and while normally he was swift to his own end his mind seemed too preoccupied. Maka had to apply just about every trick in the book before he seemed to give in to his own little moment of joy. If it hadn't been for the first part of the evening, she'd be sure that they were somewhere on the road to splitting.

So they laid there quietly, still mostly naked but covered in the downy quilt of the bedspread, Maka examining Soul as he watched out of the window, too many thoughts occupying his mind. Mutual, Maka started repeating in her brain like a mantra. "I'll give you one of my thoughts if you give me one of yours."

Soul blinked as if coming back from hypnosis before turning his head to her. "What kind of thoughts?"

"You won't know until I say mine, I guess." Her hand fished under the blankets to run up his stomach to his chest.

He didn't pull her closer, didn't run his hand over hers, just laid there, eyes slowly focusing on her in the low light of the room. "OK."

"I was late coming back with food the other morning because I talked to my mom." Those words were barely a struggle, but she knew the worst was yet to come. "She called because my dad told her to because I ran off. She said I was being irresponsible, and 'didn't I realize how hurtful it was to leave my father alone during the holidays?'" She blew air between her lips to quell the urge to cry. "It's amazing that the two of them can become a united front only in order to parent me wrong. I don't think she could be more ironic if she tried."

"Fucking ridiculous." Soul rolled over to face her, finally reaching and pulling her against his body. "Did she even have an excuse for not seeing you?"

"I didn't let her get that far," Maka couldn't stop the weak laugh from her lips. "Regardless of how much I had wanted to talk to her, I hung up on her after that."

She could see him thawing out a little, that strange chill that came over him when he was too tangled in thoughts finally dissipating. "Did you talk to your dad, too?"

"Through text only." Maka started to draw a line on his chest with her finger. "I would say furious is an understatement when it comes to his current feelings, but I'm leaving him that way. I think I…" she took a deep breath, tilting her head on the pillow to look into his eyes. "If he's angry about me not being alone then let him."

His hands moved from holding her tightly to her face, her hair, clearing and soothing again. "You sure you're OK with all of that?"

"No," Maka's laugh was unsteady again. "But I think I can get there. With time. With this."

"Good." He kissed her forehead, leaving his lips lingering there, eyes focused beyond her.

"Your turn," she murmured.

Soul pressed his lips there again before tilting her head so that the words tumbled over her hair. "I need you to listen to the whole thing, OK? Don't jump to any conclusions until I'm done."

Maka's fingers slid to his back, bringing herself close enough to feel her heartbeat next to his. "I'll try."

It was a quiet battle, Soul's throat bobbing against her forehead as he tried hard to produce the right words. "I know, well, you've heard Black Star complain about how I used to be the King of Hookups. And I won't say he's wrong, I used to pick up girls and let them go on a regular basis. But I did that because… fuck." One of his hands came up to her hair, smoothing through it, his fingers desperate to comfort because he felt like every word from his mouth was hurting her.

"I did that because I never wanted anyone close to me. I needed to stay alone, just like you said." Soul cleared his throat, again running his fingers through her golden tresses. "But I never, I only let things get so far with any of those girls, I never, ever…" He trailed off, half-suffocated by embarrassment that he would even bother admitting this to her but he had to. He'd almost fucked things up tonight because he'd choked, absolutely lost it when she suggested that they do something that should be so natural. "I don't have sex."

"I don't care what other people say about it, but sex always seemed to be that final emotional thing, the one that cemented you to somebody and I couldn't. I didn't want to." Maka seemed to be pushing against him but he refused to change positions, couldn't bear to look into her eyes. "But you asking, Maka, that's different. I feel different, and I… I want it, I do, I don't want you to think I don't but you have to understand what it means to me. I don't want…" He groaned, his mouth no longer able to accommodate the words he wanted or thought he should use.

"Are you done?" she murmured against his chest.

"It depends. How mad are you right now?" He still refused to loosen his arms, keeping her cheek planted against his collarbone.

"Not mad."

Soul finally let her push her hands against his chest, bringing her head next to his on the pillow. "How upset then? Scale of one to ten?"

"Not upset," she let out a small laugh. The moments before she spoke again felt like an eternity to Soul, but the fact that her fingers were working through his hair, her eyes softly looking over his face at least kept his sanity intact. "Everyone has you wrong, Soul."

"What do you mean?"

"You play a very convincing part, making a good show of it all being either apathy or disinterest." She worked through his hair again, trying to allay the terror that was still shining in his eyes. "But, really, you're the most romantic out of all of us."

Soul groaned, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes. "Don't tease me, Maka."

"I'm not," her laugh didn't help her case, but she couldn't stop it. "I don't even think you see it."

"I definitely don't," Soul sighed. "But you know it's not you, right? It's not a problem with you."

"Technically it is," but she smiled at him, confusing him even more. "But it's a problem with me because you want to but you're afraid to?"

"I'm not afraid," Soul bristled a little, his pride definitely still wounded. "You've just… if we're going to it means we're staying together, OK?"

Maka kept a laugh from tumbling from her lips by pressing them again Soul's, feeling his reply with an unexpected need. "I thought that was the plan, Soul."

"I mean that we have to feel a certain way about each other." He was floundering again, and a part of him was screaming just to say it, to give it to her and let her have everything, all of it.

She watched him struggle, her smile not wavering. "We're staying together, we care about each other. It'll be alright."

"You swear?" he was breathless.

"I do." That moment was adorably burned into her memory, the way Soul seemed so desperate for her when he should already know that he had Maka completely.

Soul was sitting on the phone, trying to reason with Liz that it was imperative to speak to Kid, the elusive manager of Reapers. He had settled on taking the rest of the week and he was still waiting to tell Maka that maybe he should spend part of that time taking her home, helping her to avoid the horrors that would be the New Year's party. But then again, it had to be mutual, so it wasn't about telling her, it would be talking with her.

Maka was lounging on the bed, a battered copy of Northanger Abbey open in front of her. There was a soft knock on the door and she shut her book, stumbling off the bed. She heard Soul snicker at the gracefulness, something she swore to avenge later, and moved to the door, opening it to find Lizzie. "Hey!"

"Hello," Lizzie peeked a little into the room. "Hope this isn't a bad time."

"No, it's fine, just reading." Maka still didn't bring her any further in, hoping to lessen the disruption on Soul's phone call. "Soul's on the phone trying to get off work."

"So you two decided to stay?" Lizzie was much better than Wes at checking the hopefulness in her voice.

"I think so," Maka smiled.

"Then it's good I stopped by. I wanted you to come out shopping with me since I'm woefully unprepared for New Year's." Lizzie sighed as she took out her phone, scrolling through messages on the screen. "Catherine's very particular about what's acceptable dress and while she's more than happy to outfit the boys, it leaves you and me on our own."

"Lizzie, I'm pretty sure I'm not invited, remember?" Maka tried to laugh in amusement at it but part of it still stung, how Catherine had so nicely cut her.

"Oh, yes, a family affair," Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I hope you didn't buy that for a second. She dislikes things she can't control and you, Maka, are at the top of that list. Or at least I hope."

Maka gave it a moment's thought, softly humming. "I think Soul's the top of that list."

"You're a close second, then," Lizzie chimed back. "You'll come?"

"I don't see why not…" Maka turned back to still hear Soul grumbling over the phone. "Just give me five minutes? I'll meet you downstairs."

"Of course. See you in a few." Lizzie waved, bowing out of the doorway and starting down the hall.

Maka closed the door slowly and quietly, seeing Soul eyeing her suspiciously but his phone was still pressed to his ear. "Kid, finally," he sighed. "Look, I'm going to have to stay the weekend, too. I know, it's an inconvenience… I get that… Oh, I know… Yeah, bye." Soul barely stopped himself from slamming his phone to the table. "I apparently owe Kid my firstborn, but I'm out of work until next weekend."

"Well, firstborn is usually the one you mess up, right?" Maka shrugged and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Soul laughed, running his fingers along her arm. "What did Lizzie want?"

"We're going shopping!" Maka added a squeeze for excitement.

"Please say that I'm not included in this," Soul sighed, eyes turning to hers to plead.

Maka relaxed her hold, stealing a kiss before standing up straight. "You're safe, but I'm going to leave now. Is that OK?"

His hand reached for hers, intertwining their fingers. "As long as you swear you'll have at least a little fun."

"I think Lizzie and I can manage." Maka swung their hands. "Maybe you should do something with Wes."

The suggestion hit Soul harder than he thought it would and he found himself trying to churn through ideas. "I'll think about it."

"Good." Maka let her hand drift from his and started the process of getting her winter coat and gear on.

He cleared his throat, suddenly behind her and smoothing out the shoulders of her coat. "I, uh, is it too sappy to say I'll be thinking about you?"

"Yes," Maka teased, turning just in time for his arms to snap to her waist, pulling her closer.

Soul stole a hungry kiss, biting at her lower lip. "Well, I'm a fucking romantic, right?"

"Right," she laughed, playing tug of war with him for space. "Soul, I have to go."

"Have fun," he murmured before one more kiss. Soul finally allowed her to detach, watching with his hands jammed in his pockets as she shut the door behind her. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, concentrating on the floor as he let the words spring from his lips, "I really do fucking love you."

Shopping can be one of the most exhausting activities, especially when you are neither good at it nor do it often. Maka fell into both categories, her only shopping excursions with Tsubaki and her favorite pastime could never possibly ever be trying on clothes. Lizzie's company had been refreshing with only a hint of overwhelming. It was simply Lizzie trying to find out everything she could about her new family, but honestly, all Maka had to offer was stories of the two of them.

Maka tried to steer the conversation to Wes, fleshing out the details of the real first meeting, not the quick summation that came up at dinner. A romantic night in Paris with music, wine, dancing, and ultimately going home together. Maka couldn't help but blush, wondering if that kind of reckless abandon would ever be for her. Probably not, since Soul had been the closest to toeing that line and now they were… comfortable.

The real test was not conversation, though, but the epic search for dresses. Catherine had insisted on cool winter palette, a set of words that Maka had little to no understanding of, and Lizzie was quick to push her into an array of blues, from powder to navy. It seemed like everything Maka put on was acceptable to herself, eliciting different levels of gushing from Lizzie, and of course, endorsed by the terrifyingly hip sales girl that was accompanying them through the lineup of dresses.

The last one was indigo, the lines simple and figure-hugging with a three-quarter sleeve. The fabric itself shimmered as it moved, not like sequins but a low-light opalescence that made it almost seem fluid on her body. As she moved to step towards the mirror, the dress opened, the slit daringly cut all the way to the middle of her thigh. Maka had to cover her mouth to keep in the smile. He always said how much he liked her legs.

"What do you think?" Maka tried her best to suppress the grin.

"The look on your face tells me we're done for the day," Lizzie laughed. "You think Soul will like it?"

"Too much." Maka touched at the bare part of her leg, for one small moment feeling dazzled by her own body. Then again, it seemed to be becoming harder to find fault in herself.

"What do you think of this?" Lizzie pulled her attention, showing off an elegant yet simple navy sheath gown.

"You like simple, don't you?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Maka instantly regretted it, the straightforwardness bordering on obnoxious to her ears.

Lizzie was unaffected, smiling as she ran a hand along her hip. "One of the few ways I don't compare to the other people you'll meet at that party, Maka. I'd prefer not to stand out, and if I must, I'd prefer my wit to be the thing to draw attention, not a dress."

Maka could breathe a sigh of relief, no social niceties broken. "I'm going to guess that's what Wes likes about you."

"One of the things," Lizzie gave a knowing wink before beginning to slip back out of the gown. Maka followed suit, hanging the beautiful blue fabric back up carefully before changing back into her own clothes. She heard Lizzie start but stop, pausing to wait for Maka to finish. "Please don't take anything Catherine says to heart. Especially not this week."

"I'm trying not to," Maka admitted. Lizzie moved past her, taking the dress with her own and handing it to the girl along with her card. "Oh, don't," Maka tried, but Lizzie waved her off.

"This week has been hard for you. You deserve a treat." Lizzie slipped her hand in the crux of Maka's elbow. "And Soul seems to be attempting a white knight kind of persona this week."

"That's just him all the time," Maka laughed, letting Lizzie lead her through the store to the cashier.

"He cares about you a lot then…" Lizzie offered and Maka could tell the implication, the reason the words hung in the air, the question that Lizzie was asking without asking.

"I love him." Maka found it surprisingly easy to say, and not a shocking statement in the least for the two of them. "It might seem… I don't know, quick, but I do."

"Love comes at its own pace," Lizzie shrugged. "Took Wes forever to admit it, too. Maybe it's genetic."

"Soul hasn't said it," Maka admitted. "But I think he dances around it, thinks it sometimes. I feel almost like I can see it on his face, but I try to tell myself that could just be wishful thinking."

Lizzie was finishing signing on the line, but pausing only to laugh as some of her own courting memories flashed over her mind. "Oh, that was Wes one hundred percent. He liked the 'I care for you' phrase for a while as if it didn't necessarily mean the same thing." Lizzie slipped her card back into her wallet before tossing it in her purse and picking up the garment bags. "But you've said it and he's still being an Evans?"

Maka laughed at the characterization as if it were some inherited trait. "No, almost, but I thought… he always seems so scared about his feelings I didn't want to press him, to make him come to that conclusion. I want him to say it when he figures it out, not just to echo me to keep me happy."

Lizzie smiled, grabbing at Maka's elbow again to start leading her back to the mall at large, the car as their job for the day was done. "For someone afraid it's too quick, you sure have a lot figured out."

"It's easy with Soul." But Maka couldn't put into words what it really was without sounding like a late-night lunatic. It was like their souls fit like he was the gentle music that lulled any of her troubles. Every time they were together it felt impossible to stay discordant, her life just slowly harmonizing with his. No, there was no way to say that without sounding mad, or at least, madly in love.

Soul only needed to look out the window for a few minutes before the idea clicked solidly in his head. After grabbing his jacket and a hat that barely fit over the mess of his hair, he made his way to the front desk to inquire about the rules related to his idea. When it found out it was all fair game, and where supplies were hidden throughout the inn, Soul went about hatching his plan.

On the opposite side of the backyard from the garden was an arrangement of chairs which was what had caught Soul's attention in the first place. What was keeping his attention now was the firepit in the middle of them, usually more welcome on fall nights but with the sun shining and the wind not anywhere near blistering today, Soul assumed a good fire could not only be managed but enjoyed. Even luckier for him, as soon as he had the first sparks catching, the kindling starting to burn, he heard the soft footsteps behind him.

Wes was hugging his jacket to him, looking between the fire and his brother. "I'll assume you asked."

"I was a good boy," Soul shrugged before depositing himself into one of the seats. He was hoping he'd made a good choice, the heat still underwhelming.

Wes tentatively sat in the chair next to his brother, leaning forward to catch the start of the warmth. "So, I assume that Maka went with Lizzie."

"She did." Soul leaned over the arm of the chair away from his brother to rummage through the bag he had brought.

"I assume that also means Maka is going to attend the New Year's Eve extravaganza that Mother has planned." The more moments they had like this, the candid sitting and talking, the more Wes seemed to come clean of his showman cheer.

Soul waited to answer as he pulled the bottle from the bag, handing it over to Wes before bringing out two heavy plastic cups. "I think she is. Not that I really pushed for it." Soul nodded at the bottle and Wes obliged him by opening it, pouring about two inches in each cup before setting the bottle between them.

"Did Mother say something to her the last time? Besides the regular antics, that is." Soul handed Wes the cup and he took it happily, sticking his nose to take a whiff of the oak and spice.

"I know she did, but Maka hasn't said a word about it." Soul avoided the pouting that he knew was coming by taking a sip of the bourbon, letting it sting his tongue and throat.

"And she's liable to continue," Wes added with a sigh. "Honestly, I should have told you just to stay with her, not even bother to come."

"Oh, no," Soul shook his head. "I'm going to go ahead and say I'd rather be with Mom than her dad."

Wes let that statement mellow, feeling the heat from the drink and finally the heat from the fire as the flames began to lick at a decent height. Both men watched the flames, sipping slowly at the amber liquid, trying to fit into the silence. Wes finally cleared his throat, "I'm thankful you're giving me another chance, Soul."

Those words tore into him, ripping into the old hurts, the new hopes for himself, and made him feel unsettled. "I, uh, it's not a big deal, Wes."

"You don't have to lie, Soul." Wes tilted his cup, focusing on the liquid. "I know I hurt you."

Soul slid more bourbon across his tongue, hoping it would loosen or fix the words. "It wasn't really your fault, Wes."

"When you were young, very young, you used to follow me around, devoted, and I thought I'd have that love forever. Then something happened and I wasn't part of your world anymore. It almost seemed like nothing and nobody was." Wes let his eyes fall back on his brother. "I'm sorry for whatever it was."

Not part of my world. The idea resonated down to his core, making his heart skip a beat. "I told you, it wasn't really your fault." Soul felt his gut tighten, blaming it on the liquor but knowing it was because he was pulling apart an old, festering wound. "At first it was just the summer camps, but then boarding school, and I know it was Mom and Dad that made you go, but that first time, Wes… shit, I cried the whole day and by the time you left, all you could tell me was that I had to grow up. I wasn't a baby and I didn't need you. I know what you were doing, trying to get me to put my chin up, be strong, but I didn't know that then."

"So by the time you came back I made sure I didn't need you. I didn't need anyone. You were all doing bigger and better things anyway and all I did was tag along, bring you down." Soul took another gulp, blaming the watering in his eyes on the sting. "You were always better off without me anyway. I just… I didn't see it until then. I didn't see how alone I was going to be."

"Soul…"

"Oh, fuck it, Wes, really." Soul rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. "I don't want an apology. I don't want you to feel like shit about some stupid thing you said to me when I was five. I just… I want us to be brothers, whatever that means for us now."

Wes silenced himself for a moment, his eyes still focused on the cup until he closed them to take another sip. "Alright, Soul."

Soul wiped his eyes one or two more times, feeling Wes reach out and gently pat his elbow. Without really thinking, Soul downed the rest of his drink, not considering the enjoyment of it before pouring more in his glass, making sure to top off Wes's. Wes tossed a few more logs on the fire, watching as it spat and sputtered. "So, uh, is Mom planning the wedding?" That didn't exactly seem like the best question to ask, but Soul wanted to drive away from his own emotional turmoil for a while.

"Well, yes, in the sense she's hired someone to plan it to her specifications," Wes shrugged. "Lizzie is, well… patient. But we're both afraid as soon as both mothers meet it will be a battle for supremacy."

"Seriously, why? You know this thing is going to cost them a ridiculous amount of money and most of the guests will be people you don't even know." Soul tried to balance his cup so he could count these atrocities on his fingers. "You'll wear an ugly suit in a color Mom will pick while Lizzie will have to wear some gigantic dress. Not to mention pictures and food that you'll get to look at but won't be able to eat since you're too busy greeting all the people you didn't invite."

Wes took a moment to chuckle, "You certainly have feelings about weddings."

"I've played a few," Soul let out a withering sigh. "And they're all the same."

"And ours will be, too," Wes let a laugh accompany his shrug this time. "I'll just wait for yours. See what a real wedding should be."

"Mine?" Soul squeaked. "That's ridiculous."

"I don't know, I feel like this time last year I would have said you with a girlfriend would be ridiculous. Especially one that you brought home to Mother." Wes's amused smile was curling over the side of his cup as he took a sip, ignoring the daggers Soul's eyes were shooting his way.

"Look, just because I brought her home, it doesn't mean… and we just started dating, Wes, and you have no idea how much that took to get to work and…" Soul forced himself into another drink, trying to ebb the flow of the nervous insanity coming from his mouth.

"I'm not saying she'll catch the bouquet," Wes wasn't really trying to soothe, his words still playful. "But Maka seems like a wonderful girl and maybe two, three years from now…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Soul grumbled before sending another wash of liquid down his throat.

"See, you're not saying no," Wes chimed.

Soul let out another doomed filled sigh, leaning back in the chair to keep the fire from lighting up his already red and steaming face. This definitely wasn't where he wanted his thoughts to go today. He was supposed to be getting those three little words out of his mind, not adding a whole other daydream. A daydream that was a million years away because there was no possible way he was even in love with her yet. Not at all, regardless of what he let slip in that room or almost let slip in bed. No fucking way.

After an amusing enough silence, Wes continued, "I seem to remember you said it was over the moment you saw her. Love at first sight?"

"Wes," Soul groaned. "If you just want to hear it, I'll say it, I love her, but all that other stuff, cut it out. I love her, but it's driving me a little crazy at the moment, OK?"

"Driving you crazy?" Wes was taking every opportunity to fulfill his brotherly annoyance quota. "She seems quite taken with you so I'm unsure as to why being in love with her is an issue."

Soul huffed, clenching his free hand into his knee. "I, just, how do I say it to her without sounding ridiculous? All of this is crazy anyway. I've known her for five months. She'll laugh in my face, or worse, fucking run for the hills because I must be insane."

"That's always been your problem," Wes mused. "You overthink. Everything has to fit and be perfect and go exactly the way you imagine or the dissonance drives you insane."

"Why can't you just tell me I'm crazy like a normal person?" Soul stood up, playing with the fire in a sad attempt to derail this line of thought in his mind. It didn't help that he could feel Wes's smug smile shining behind his back, knowing everything like some sage who'd already foreseen Soul's whole emotional endeavor. None of this was possible and none of it was fair and all he wanted now was to be back in bed with this bourbon, drifting between sleep until Maka came back.

Instead, of course, Soul continued to sit there with his brother who was now at least refraining from nitpicking impossible details from Soul's life and stumbled back into wedding arrangements. Soul wasn't sure which one he liked less, but as the bottle slowly trickled from full to half, Soul began to not really care all that much. It wasn't until they were both plastered to their chairs that Lizzie and Maka finally figured out their location, Lizzie giving out a frustrated "There you are!" as the two of them walked towards the fire.

"This is cozy." Maka moved to walk past him to the chair on the other side but Soul pulled at her jacket, bringing her towards his lap. "Hey!"

"Come here," he grumbled, pulling again.

She continued to resist, getting her coat free of his clutches. "You are very drunk," Maka laughed.

"That doesn't mean you can't come here," Soul's voice was still pouting, starting to feel overwhelmed just by looking at her.

Maka shook her head and pulled the chair closer to his, at least allowing him access to her hand or something at least a little more appropriate than lounging in his lap like she assumed he'd been going for.

Lizzie didn't bother to sit, hovering over Wes as she plucked the cup from his hands. "Have you two been drinking the whole day since we've been gone?"

"Not the whole day." Wes didn't attempt to fight back, allowing his fiance to take the rest of his drink. "Were you successful on your errand today?"

With a sigh, Lizzie took a sip and let her lips press together tightly as the liquid burned at her tongue. "Maka most definitely, and I managed as well."

Soul knew better than to ask Maka what she got and the devious gears in his head started to turn with the idea that maybe while she was sleeping tonight he could peek. "I'm sure you'll both look fine."

"You'll need a better word than fine the night of," Lizzie corrected, taking another half-hearted sip.

Maka leaned towards him and teased, "I'll give you a list of synonyms."

Lizzie was leaning close to Wes's ear and Soul just barely caught it, her soft whisper, "But, Wes, I really wish I could get your opinion on the dress."

Soul couldn't stop a snicker from breaking his lips as Wes was quick to get out of his chair. "I think the two of us are going to go in. Care to have dinner tonight, seven?"

"Sure," Soul smirked.

"See you later," Lizzie chimed as she began to pull Wes away, the man not needing much convincing after the sultry suggestion in his ear.

Maka, blissfully unaware, stood up, adding additional logs on the fire until the flame rose enough to clear the chill that was starting to drift in with the late afternoon. She felt his hands again, latching to her coat and trying to ease her in and this time she allowed it, letting herself fall into his lap. To her surprise, there was no groping, no searching hands that would run cold against her still-warm skin. Instead, he clung to her, burying his face in her jacket and hugging her as if it had been months rather than hours.

"What's gotten into you?" Maka tried to ease him back but he wouldn't budge, secured to her as if his life depended on it. "Soul?" And it hit her like a punch to the stomach that he was crying, silently without heaving breaths or hitching sobs, but a shaking cough of air against her coat. "What is it? Do you need me to get Wes? What's wrong?" She was desperately trying to get some kind of hold on him but the best she could do at this angle was smooth his hair, looking down anxiously at a face she couldn't see.

He only shook his head, leaving most of her questions unanswered as he gripped her.

Maka, left with nothing besides the knowledge of his drunkenness, continued to brush his hair back, offering soft words she repeated over and over until he was only resting against her, not pressed tightly. "Soul, look at me…"

Soul was slow to obey, half because he realized the wreck his face must be and also because he was entirely sure that looking her in the eyes now would only bring the tears back. He wasn't wrong, since when he finally met her gaze and she leaned in, planting delicate kisses along his lips, he couldn't stop another wave from crawling down his cheeks.

She cleared the tears from his face in between a few more kisses. "Is this what happens when you're drunk or did something happen?"

"A little of both," he sighed out, breath still hitching from a leftover sob.

"Why don't we go inside," Maka murmured. "We'll get warm in bed and you can tell me." Maka was almost sure she already knew, that he was unearthing all the graves he'd left at home, all the old feelings and thoughts that Soul had believed he'd left for dead.