The 20th chapter! What's worse is I still don't have an ending in sight. Please forgive me and keep reading.

Maka couldn't decide if Lizzie was erring on the side of progressiveness, but she was nonetheless thankful for the co-ed bridal shower. She was even more thankful that it was at Lizzie's parents' home instead of Catherine's which might leave her far enough out of her element that behavior would be muted, or at least that was what Maka had all her fingers and toes crossed for.

Pulling up to Lizzie's childhood home was just as breathtaking as Soul's, though maybe substantially more modern, with sharp angles and more windows than walls. The party was completely evident before even entering the door, seeing people meandering around behind the floor to ceiling windows. Soul did exactly as always, hand gluing to the small of her back before pushing her forward. Though she usually loved the feeling of it, this time the hand fluttered with nervous energy. "If she says one word to you-"

"Soul," she groaned, hearing the same argument that had sprung up at least two times during the car ride. "Let it go or I will tell her we're moving in together as soon as I walk in the door."

Soul sighed, fingers tapping at her back. "Fuck," he grumbled.

"Plus, she'll be distracted. New territory, new people to torment," Maka grinned in the face of his overprotective worry. "Meanwhile, you and I will be focusing on taking care of Lizzie and Wes. We're here for them today. Use some of that defensive energy for Wes."

Oh, he hated how absolutely right she was, not to mention that almost gloating grin on her face because she knew she was. Soul tightened those fingers and planted a soft kiss on her cheek that Maka happily accepted with a delicate caress to his cheek. They strode towards the door, seeing an excited Lizzie coming to meet them, Wes still lost somewhere in the crowd. The three met at the door, Lizzie instantly pulling Maka in. "There you are! I was almost afraid something had happened."

"No, entirely my fault." A lie that she heard Soul huff at since it had really been Soul's fault, him getting so worked up over another opportunity for his mother to torture her that Maka had no choice but to take time to distract him. "I hope we didn't miss anything important."

"No, but now it's time for formal introductions." Lizzie pulled Maka along, Soul trailing with his hands now jammed in his pockets, the population of the room making it difficult for him to keep an arm on Maka. Catherine was just up ahead and Soul tense as they slowed, luckily finding that Lizzie turned them, placing them in front of a couple about the same age as Soul's parents. The man's hair was still jet black and at his age, while it might be a dye job it didn't look it. For Maka, his eyes were like looking in a mirror, that verdant green that Soul complimented so much. The woman was petite, a striking contrast to Lizzie, with long brunette hair and sparkling blue eyes. "These are my parents, Emily and Stephen. This is Soul Evans, Wes's brother, and his girlfriend, Maka Albarn."

"Ah, so the rumor's true, you are pretty identical." Stephen offered a hand to Soul, pumping it strongly in a shake.

"Only the looks," Soul still said this with a smile even though he'd said it just about a million times with varying levels of annoyance. "Thanks for having us."

"Your house is beautiful! I love all the light from the windows." Maka was the next to shake as Soul moved on to Emily.

Emily sent a languishing eye roll to her husband. "The windows are great until you have to deal with the dead birds."

"Leave it to your mother to bring in the morbidity for the guests," Stephen laughed as Emily offered another roll of her eyes. "On that note, why don't you mingle. I'll even run a little interference with Catherine if you'd like."

"Dad," Lizzie scolded but received just a grin from her father.

"Have to face the beast sometime," Soul muttered.

Now it was Maka's turn for the scolding, pushing Soul towards his mother. "Come on."

It was a slow crawl to Catherine and Lewis, Soul's steps dragging even with Maka's force behind him. "Mom, Dad," Soul let the name act as a greeting, short and sharp.

"Hello, Soul," there was only a modicum of displeasure there, or at least there was until Maka shifted from behind him, coming into Catherine's view. "Maka."

"Hello, Catherine, Lewis," Maka was all charm nonetheless, not letting the harpy stare diminish anything. She had a mantra today that solidified her place, that reminded her of her purpose: she was a bridesmaid, she was Lizzie's friend, and most of all she was Soul's.

"I heard that Lizzie made you one of her bridesmaids." Lewis seemed to be building a bridge, one that could easily be tossed aside as his wife sent him a glare, not exactly an unfamiliar message.

Maka glowed in reply, her actual excitement shining through. "Yes!"

"I was surprised to hear that." Catherine turned her head, letting the anger for her husband fade to the usual casual disregard. "Especially since you all barely know each other."

Soul sucked at his teeth before shelving the attitude-ladened reply he had on hand. Almost as a reward, Maka's hand slipped into his, giving it a squeeze. "Well, we did get to spend some quality time together during the holidays, and since then we've been doing dinner dates on and off. You'd be proud, Soul and Wes have been seeing so much of each other-"

"My boys were always good with one another," Catherine corrected, daring Soul with a glance to say otherwise.

Maka blinked, her shine faltering, "Oh, I just meant-"

Catherine moved her eyes from Maka to her husband without a second thought. "Lewis, I see Sal Collins over there, we should say hello." Her eyes never made it back to Maka but fell on Soul for a moment to send a motherly message before resting a guiding arm against her husband's elbow and moving them forward through the crowd.

"Well, more than five words, and none of them necessarily forwardly aggressive." Maka laughed but found it useless against Soul's simmering temper. "Soul…"

"She gave me the don't do this to me again look," he grumbled.

Maka ran her thumb over his knuckles. "I know that look well. Spirit's an expert at it. Definitely not an end of the world thing," she bumped her hip against his, "so chill out, please."

"I'm cool," said the epitome of not-cool, a Soul overwhelmed with a furrowed brow and a frown.

Maka studied him, oddly reminded of Grumpy Bear and found herself so amused a real laugh cracked through her lips, sending Soul's stare at her. She fumbled for an excuse and her eyes found it, settling in on the group of bridesmaids. "Come meet the other girls."

"Alright," he eyed her skeptically but allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd.

This didn't exactly strike Maka as a good idea either, but this would probably be an eventuality. She pulled him in front of her, moving to put him in the lead, the first face forward.

"Oh!" Susanna exclaimed as soon as Soul was in sight. "You must be the brother!"

"Soul," he offered. "And you're…?"

"Susanna," she seemed peeved he didn't already know, trying to exchange disapproving glances at an already exhausted Elena and a pleasantly ignorant Flore.

"And that's Elena," Maka pointed and received a short wave from her. "And Flore."

Flore smiled amiably, waving a gentle hand at Soul. "Come, sit. People watch with us."

"Who are we watching?" Soul eased himself slowly into the seat, his arm instantly curling around Maka's shoulders as she settled next to him.

"Mostly poor Lizzie and Wes juggle the pleasure of every person in the room," Elena grumbled before picking up a glass behind her and moving to drain it.

"Elena, don't get drunk," Susanna hissed.

Elena made a complete revolution of her eyes before dropping the glass from her mouth. "Be careful, Susanna's about as lenient as a Catholic nun today."

"I'm just saying to look out for my sister instead of your base pleasures," Susanna sighed. "Anyway, Soul, I've heard you're a musician just like your brother."

"Sort of," Soul tried to shrug off the comparison. "I guess I'm veering more towards producing than performing. Wes's always been a better showman."

"But you two seem more alike than not." Maka narrowed her eyes, struggling to follow where Susanna could possibly be going and trying to formulate ways to butt in, to keep Soul from the discomfort of some idiotic thing Susanna was about to spew. "And I hear you're well on your way to being the next married man out of the bunch." It came with a wink from Susanna as it settled into Maka's gut.

"We're not getting married," Maka let out a weak laugh, her hand coming up to ward off the comment.

Soul's eyes lingered over Maka for a second which she caught the tail-end of, a strange set to his jaw. "Don't know who you heard that from," he muttered.

"Oh, Christ, Susanna," Elena groaned.

"It's OK," Maka attempted another laugh, finding it only fluttering weakly from her lips. "Haven't you been seeing someone, Susanna?" This thankfully drove the storyline away from them, letting Maka sink into the drone of Susanna recounting her love life. She dared a glance at Soul, finding his face still oddly tight, his jaw still stuck painfully together.

After a few more minutes of Susanna's buzzing voice, Soul finally glanced at her before taking back his arm. "I'll be back."

"OK," she answered hesitantly, touching her fingers to his as he drifted away. Maka tried to watch where he went, losing him as he sunk into the crowd. She counted the minutes with toe taps, offered little here and there answers to Susanna, attempting to laugh as Elena came back with quips, but most of it felt as empty as Soul's seat. His absence could only be tolerated for a few more sentences before Maka forced herself to her feet and made a soft excuse before heading in the direction he'd gone.

Maka forced herself to keep an ambling gait, especially as she felt as if Catherine's eyes followed her, making a note of Soul's absence. He wasn't in the kitchen, not slinking against the wall outside of the bathroom or staring blankly through the window at the end of the hallway. She briefly glanced into the laundry room, even contemplated going upstairs to see if he was padding around there but she moved towards the backdoor instead, letting herself back out into the fresh air and sunshine.

Soul was leaning against the only solid wall of the house, keeping himself from the view of the windows. When her feet hit the concrete his eyes turned to her. "Hey," he murmured before running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, guess I lost track of time."

Maka crossed her arms low, holding herself at the elbows while she blinked at him for a moment. "Needed fresh air?"

"Yeah," he breathed weakly.

She took one step closer, now within arm's reach but kept her hands only to herself. "And a little space?"

"No, I just…" Soul watched as the sigh escaped her lips and he felt the lie turn to dust in his mouth. "It's stupid, Maka."

She nodded her head, "OK. What is it?"

"You were pretty quick to say you didn't want to marry me," it loosed from his lips like an accusation.

Maka sighed again before her hand moved up to press at her chin. "I don't think that's what I said."

"No, it wasn't," he groaned as he forced his hands through his hair. "But that's what I goddamn heard." Soul banged his head back, letting out another frustrated groan. "And it's stupid. So, so stupid. And it's not like I'm asking and it's not like we're even ready and when she said that I thought I was about to choke on my own spit, but, fuck, did I hate it when you said that."

"I'm not ready," she tried not to laugh because it was asinine, a temper tantrum because of something he didn't want in the first place.

"I'm not ready," he repeated.

Sometimes he boggled her mind, the sensitivity from someone who always looked so apathetic. "But me saying it isn't happening hurts?"

Soul gave himself another good knock to the head as if that would straighten out his thoughts. "Yeah."

"Makes you mad at me that I said it?"

"No," he shot back quickly. "I didn't get up and leave because I was pissed at you. I was pissed at me. I punished myself with the corner, trying to figure it out but it took too long."

"Soul…" She shook her head and sent him one of those smiles that were only good at melting his heart. "I'm not leaving you. We're not getting married, but we're moving in together. We're figuring this out. As far as I know, we're solid, right?"

"Yeah," the sigh he added sounded unconvincing so Maka moved closer, reaching out and caressing his arm through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.

"I don't like marriage," she tried to state it without emotion but still heard the huff of air from his mouth. Maka moved the caress from his arm to his cheek, bringing his eyes to her. "That's not something that's your fault, that's a mom and dad thing that maybe someday I'll get over. But when I think about the future, about what I want to do and where I want to be, you're always there. Maybe not with rings on our fingers but with me always anyway."

He let out a long sigh of air before grabbing at her hips, pulling her body to his. "I'm an idiot."

"No," she laughed softly. "But sometimes I wonder if there's ever a bottom to how much you've been hurt."

Soul felt his stomach drop out from underneath him, the comment stripping him bare and leaving those nerve endings raw again, just like before. "Maka, what if-"

She shook her head, not letting him go down that dark path of thought. "You get like this, we work through it. There's no what if. We have a system and it's not like you're not putting in the effort to fix what you can."

You're going to get sick of it, though, that's what I worry about the most. Soul swallowed down the thought as she smiled at him again, clearing the hair from his face absently with a soothing caress. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, just for ditching me and hiding though, not for having your feelings." She tapped her fingers to his face playfully. "Especially after I told you that today was about Wes and Lizzie and all we're doing is disappearing in the backyard. That's not even remotely helpful."

"Yeah," he laughed weakly and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his chest and pressing it there. "Tell me you love me, then I'll go inside and be Wes's shadow for the rest of the day. Consider it my punishment."

"Don't be dramatic," she giggled before flexing her fingers beneath his. "Not punishment, duty as best man." She leaned in, catching his lips ever so softly with a sweetness that even forced her own sigh in contentment. "I love you."

"Love you," he murmured back like an echo before slowly releasing her and standing on his own. Soul took one more minute to look her over, to try to read how much he'd fucked things up again but found no stiffness about her, just that same simple smile to warm him.

Soul stretched out on the couch and hit the button to dial, clicking on the speaker function and resting the device on his chest. It was only a few rings before Wes's voice came, the same happiness chirping in his voice, "Hello, little brother!"

"Hi, Wes." Soul fiddled with the pillow at the end of the couch with his feet. Why he was even nervous about this he'd never know, but there it was, a strange anxiety. "So, I have a new address for you."

"You moved? What happened to your little crew?" It was instant concern and Soul ate it up, letting it abate some of the disquiet in his mind.

"They're all fine, just…" He cleared his throat. "Maka and I kind of moved in together."

"Kind of or did?" Wes instantly offered back playfully and Soul could hear the chuckle he had tried to angle away from the phone.

"Did," Soul grumbled. "It's close to the studio, the museum. I'll text you the address but just wanted to, you know, tell you. And, uh, tell you that if you wanted to stop by, you and Lizzie or just you, that would be cool. I can't promise the place will be clean but it's homey."

There was a pause, a shuffle on the other line with the residual sound of a deep breath. "Thank you, Soul, we will. Did you… should I convey this information to Mother?"

Soul kicked at the pillow again, one hand instinctively coming to his hair to push it back. "No, Wes, I'm actually going to call her next. Called you first since I didn't want to take all the anger out on you."

"Just don't take it out on Maka," Wes sighed. "Because we do really like her. I'm not prying, but this has been good for you and now moving in together… You have to be careful. You're getting dangerously close to-"

"Don't even say it, Wes," Soul groaned. "We just started this last week and who knows if she'll even get used to all my quirks and shit. Plus, the wedding is a little over a month away. She might just dump me while you're on the way to the altar."

"Highly doubtful."

The flex of his foot had become continuous, all of his nervousness leading to the early death of the couch pillow. "And I'm trying not to wonder what Mom has planned for her because I will lose it, Wes, fucking lose it if she tries another one of those stunts."

"Perhaps after you tell mother you're living together and all, she'll finally settle on the topic." But the silence that followed that statement, the break in the jovial conversation was enough to tell both of the brothers that that was a lie, that there was maybe a parallel reality where that was an option for Catherine Evans, but certainly not this one. "Soul, maybe you should just wait, call Mother tomorrow."

"Maybe." But that felt like chickening out, like he was hiding from her because she could actually do something to this, somehow ruin from afar. "But getting it over with-" He heard the click of the lock at the door and sat up, barely catching the phone as it tumbled from his chest. "Hey, I have to go, Maka's home." The sensation of those words filled his chest.

"One more thing - happy early birthday. I was going to call you tomorrow, but…"

Soul couldn't stop the grin from pulling at his lips. Usually, birthdays were lonely, secret things, and he had always avoided even taking a call from Wes during that time. "Yeah, thanks. I'll text you the address. Bye, Wes."

"Bye, Soul."

He let the phone fall to the couch before padding out to the hallway, the smile still playing on his lips. "Hey, Maka."

Her eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to shuffle her bag so she could move the rather large wrapped rectangle behind her. "You're not supposed to be home," she groaned.

Soul laughed, "Band rescheduled." He tried to reach for her, tried to help her negotiate the package she was slipping behind her, definitely not obscured.

"Well," Maka huffed, giving up and allowing him to take the wrapped item, "Happy birthday, then, a day early."

"No," he grumbled, elongating the vowel.

"I was trying to hide it, but the universe is apparently working against me." Maka leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. "I can keep the second half for tomorrow, though, if you want."

"I meant no, you weren't supposed to, and you know that." He leaned the thin package against the wall and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

"I told you it wasn't logical to miss one because you missed one." Her finger played with the collar of his shirt. "This year we celebrate both."

"Stubborn," he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "You just wait until November."

"Patiently." She eased out of his arms, giving him the package before pushing him back into the living room. "I have to admit that Wes helped me pick them out, so when you talk to him, give him a little credit, OK?"

Soul sat down on the couch, leaning the awkwardly large package against the coffee table. "I just got off the phone with him. Told him we moved and that I'd, uh, well, actually be telling Mom where I lived."

Maka raised her eyebrows and blinked a few times before dropping herself into the couch next to him. "Really? Catherine's going to know you're shacking up with this undeserving little harlot?"

"Please tell me she never used those words," Soul groaned, reaching for her rather than the gift, pulling her closer to him on the couch.

Maka shook her head. "Only in my head when I replay the part of the argument I missed at New Year's. Are you going to open that or do you want what's in my purse first?"

"I want you first," he murmured, the hand he had at her waist slipping under her shirt. He hid his head against her neck, planting a few kisses as his hand traveled up her back.

The sigh that escaped her mouth was interrupted by a laugh. "Soul, this isn't part of your birthday present."

He didn't take that as discouragement, fingers tracing the line of her bra until he came to the clasp. "Why not?"

"Because that you can have whenever." Maka produced a real sigh this time, her hand tugging at his until it relented. "Humor me, please, and open them."

Soul leaned back, crossing his arms in the process. "Alright, but I'd definitely don't like how you say I can have it whenever, makes it sound not as special as it is."

"You're such a romantic dork." She tossed her purse into his lap. "Once again, unwrapped. I'm starting to feel like that's going to be my luck when giving you gifts."

"Forget wrapping paper. Doing my part to save the environment." Soul opened her purse, taking out the brown paper bag. This was a familiar wrapping to him but the bottle inside was not, Ichiro's Malt & Grain, something he knew to be not middle shelf, the only range he'd allow himself to buy when it came to his whiskey and bourbon habit. "Please tell me Wes bought this."

"No." And before he could even voice the complaint her finger was pressed to his lips. "Don't. Spoiling you gives me joy, so let it go." She slowly moved her hand away, getting only a displeased grunt from his freed lips. "Now, I'm going to get you a glass while you start on the big one."

He didn't have time to lodge a complaint as she practically pranced out of the room. Soul took an extra minute to turn the bottle over in his hands, studying the amber liquid before putting it carefully on the coffee table. The size really only allowed for this to be one thing, a poster or painting, but he almost didn't want to open it because it was excessive. She was spoiling him, and while it should just give him a warm, fuzzy feeling, it also came with that anxious little complaint that she was too good for him. But what if you actually deserve this? What if this is OK to have? That was an even more terrifying thought.

Maka came back and the furthest his hands had gotten was clutching the white protective paper wrapped tightly around the frame. "What, forgot how to unwrap?" She held the glass out under his nose and almost teased again, pausing just in time when she saw his face. The gears were turning in his head and he wasn't all there, lost in thought she could guess he shouldn't be having. "Soul?"

"Yeah," he blinked, taking the glass from her hand. The look didn't leave his eyes though, even as he concentrated on pouring a shot of the new bottle into his glass. Soul sniffed at the liquid first before barely letting it touch his lip. It burned nicely, a warm vanilla spice with a whiff of smoke at the tail end. His other hand went from the frame to her knee, clutching at it. "Maka, I'm really happy."

"You didn't even get to the big one," her laugh was soft and it fell even softer as he turned his eyes from his glass to her. It was that look, the one that even before he'd said the words just screamed I love you in just about every way.

His eyes were glowing like hot coals, his lips curving only just gently into a smile that wasn't anything like a smirk, just blissful. "Well, the gifts, yeah, but with you. I really just love you, OK?"

She replied by capturing his lips, tasting that bite of alcohol off his tongue. At that moment she almost regretted not letting him have his first wish and found herself lingering in the kiss, almost unwilling to let go. Maka finally forced herself to exhale over his lips. "Again, romantic dork. Please open the big one."

"You're just plain cruel," he muttered, squeezing his hand on her knee again. He took another short sip of whiskey before putting it down on the counter, freeing up both of his hands for the frame. Soul was gentle with the paper, reaching behind the back and unfastening the tape so it came off in one sheet rather than tearing through and risk whatever was underneath. His breath caught in his throat and he had to work to exhale the words, "The Magdalen with the Smoking Flame."

"Obviously not the original." Maka ran her fingers up his arm, letting them settle at the base of his neck. "Wes helped me get a print. I thought it'd go nicely in the apartment."

"Yeah," he croaked, words still feeling almost impossible. Soul left the print leaning against the table and picked up his glass again. He stole a glance at her before he leaned back into the couch, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

Instead of settling herself against his shoulder, Maka slid her head down into his lap, turning over on her back so she could stare up at him. Soul let his abandoned arm fall, his hand cupping at her throat gently. "I'm going to guess the stunned silence isn't because I'm the best girlfriend in the world."

He let the liquid wash over his tongue again. "Actually, it sorta is." His hand drifted to her cheek, thumb rubbing against the defined cheekbone. "Sometimes you just throw me off guard with how good it can be. Not that the rest of our days are bad or boring, but there's a lot of little moments I have with you that I can barely wrap my head around it." His eyes lingered away, now focused on the flame that looked as if it could be glowing. "Sometimes happiness like that doesn't seem possible."

"But you're allowed to be happy, Soul." That little murmur struck him right in the face and he forced himself to take a slow sip hoping that the shock would melt away. "Is this like your loneliness?"

"Maybe," he breathed. "Actually, probably not. It's more like…" Soul's eyes fell back down to her, still slightly surprised by the calm smile on her face. Maka reached up a hand and slid it against his cheek to reward him for the glance her way, to encourage more words. "Do you feel happy?"

"A lot more often than I used to." Maka absently caressed his cheek with her fingertips.

"And… oh, man, don't take this wrong, Maka, but doesn't it feel weird sometimes? Like you're so used to the ugly, pent-up stuff that once it's gone, once it's replaced with the opposite it just feels impossible." The words didn't seem less jumbled off his tongue and Soul found his heart beating in his ears.

Maka brought her other hand to his chest, trying to soothe with every stroke of her fingers. "I think I kind of get it. It's like a muscle you're not used to working. It feels weird, sometimes painful, but also satisfying."

Soul snorted a soft laugh, "That strangely makes sense."

"All English majors are seriously trained in analogies." She attempted to furrow her brow but it almost instantly dissolved as a grin spread across her lips. "You're just going to have to get used to it, though."

Between that beautiful expression on her face and the way her fingers were slowly weaving warmth into his heart, Soul was having trouble following the previously heartbreaking conversation. "What?"

"Being happy. Get used to it. This is just the first birthday. You've got tons more of those and Christmases and anniversaries, too." Even though she had sunken into the comfort of this position, Maka moved up to sitting by sliding herself into his lap. She took the drink out of his hand, careful not to lose a drop in the process of putting it on the table. "I'll give you two more before you have to stop being gloomy when I give you gifts or shower you with attention."

"That's a pretty short time period to get my shit together." The sigh that followed was halfway to content, almost as if there was no worry there to be had.

"Well, my birthday doesn't count so you have until Christmas to get over it, Soul." She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his. There were a few breaths of pause, Soul contemplating his original want, his hands slipping tentatively to the bottom of her shirt. Maka laughed as his fingers tickled at the sensitive skin of her side. "Where are you going to hang the picture?"

"Don't know, gotta think about it," he murmured, half losing himself in the way her skin felt under his fingertips as he dared to continue lifting up her shirt. "Maka, you remember what I said that day when I showed it to you?"

"We're all looking for a light." And it wasn't his fingers but the memory that brought the blush to her cheeks.

He let their lips meet, the pressure of her kiss building up the strength of the words behind his teeth. Soul forced himself to stop bringing his hands from her shirt to her face, cupping her cheeks delicately so he could stare into those green orbs. "You're the light."