The rest of the week in the cabin finished very much the same, with no broken bones and not too many bug bites. Soul planned for the cars to pick them up right from the woods, but the rest of the wedding party opted to leave a day earlier than Maka and Soul. He actually relished the opportunity and made sure that since no social obligations called the majority of the day was spent in bed, reminding her exactly how much he loved her. By the time they left the morning of the rehearsal dinner, he was still busy whispering promises in her ear as his mind hoped and prayed that Catherine Evans would be too busy for sabotage.
Extravagant was a complete understatement. Soul had been sure that would be the case from the beginning and was mostly used to his parents' opulence but this was above and beyond and they'd only just made it to the rehearsal dinner. All of Wes's descriptions fell short, the building that their town car pulled up to looking closer to a medieval castle than a country club. It was sprawling, ancient-looking stone covered with ivy framed by long arrow-slit windows and turrets that reached up like nails into the sky. To put it as simply as possible, it was a fairytale, and Soul could do nothing more than walk Maka through it.
Maka, of course, was beyond speechless, her green eyes stretched wide to take in each sight. Without Soul's guiding hand, she would have been apt to walk right into walls, too interested in the architecture and design to even think of her own footing. "Earth to Maka," Soul made one last attempt as the host was leading them down a long hallway that glittered with stained glass windows to the main dining room.
"I know," she whispered breathlessly, her hand coming to her cheek. "It's just amazing."
Soul wished he could see it through her lens, the wonder at the beauty of his surroundings rather than glomping onto the worry of the expectations for the weekend. "So are you," he murmured, savoring the last moment he thought he'd get for a while with a soft kiss to her cheek.
"Romantic," she cooed, enjoying the momentary scowl she got in return.
"Maka!" It was a swift and short call from Susanna that snapped her out of the enjoyment of their moment.
"That's already my cue," Maka whispered as she detached from his almost unrelenting grasp.
He watched as she hurried her steps towards the group of girls, leaving him to mourn her absence before muttering to himself, "Guess it's me and Wes." Soul scanned the room for Wes before finding him intently waving. He moved slowly over to the group of men, one face he vaguely recognized, Shinji who Soul knew was a concert pianist who'd dueted with Wes a few times, while the others were alien. It turns out the men were more Catherine picks, Chase from Wes's college days and Vincent from prep school. Both, of course, had mothers or fathers that required ass-kissing from Catherine Evans, though how that was fulfilled by being included in a wedding party Soul certainly couldn't figure out. More intricacies of social etiquette that Soul never wished to understand.
It was thankfully still just the time to stand around and chat, Soul's eyes surprisingly not on Maka but his mother, watching her trail along to the different groups and giving orders. Stay away from her, he urged mentally at the back of that brunette, perfectly styled bun.
"Saw you come in with the blond."
Soul let his eyes slink from his mother over to Chase, the dictionary definition of rich kid snob, leaving Soul completely unenthused at the prospect of where this conversation was going. "My girlfriend, Maka."
"She's cute," he whistled a little. "And doesn't look too stuck up. Sorority girl?"
"He's slumming it," Vincent corrected. "Heard she's a nobody."
Bearing his teeth seemed like the only option and Soul had to fight to make it look like a smile. "I was looking for a brain, not money," he managed to grumble out.
Chase patted him on the shoulder, "Eh, you're still young. You're allowed at least one of those before you have to get serious."
Like I'm in need of somebody with a dowry! He barely kept the words from spitting out, especially as Vincent and Chase devolved into listing their own experiments, girls who didn't deserve them but at least 'got a taste of the goods' as the cringeworthy line went. Soul attempted a step back, positioning himself closer to Shinji. "Who are you walking with?" After the last display of character, Soul was aching for a particular answer.
Shinji nodded over towards the girls. "Ah, Maka, your girlfriend, right? Lizzie made a fuss."
Soul was able to unclench his fists. Yeah, because if it wasn't me it better not be some slimeball frat boy. "Probably because she wanted to see Elena deck one of the preps over there."
Shinji let out an amused chuckle. "Hopefully someone will."
Soul breathed another sigh of relief and settled into odds and ends conversation with Shinji, eyes flitting between an appropriate amount of eye contact and his dutiful watching of his mother.
He bristled when she started the walk towards the bride's group but thankfully the wedding planner interrupted, raising her voice over the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time we got started with the walkthrough. If you'll all follow me."
After the woman led them all into the ceremony room that boasted beautiful stained glass which created a medley of colors in the daylight, it was marionette time. Each one of them was positioned, guided through every simple action by the bark of this stranger who was probably making more money that Maka could ever imagine. She was pleased to be standing next to the man Soul hadn't looked pained while talking to and Shinji made quiet conversation with her when it wasn't their turn to be yelled at. The biggest relief was the exhilaration on Lizzie's face that seemed to feed right into Wes, making for an adorably antsy bride and groom to be, all giggles and smiles.
Lizzie was never planning on getting married and look at her! Her mind was trying to plant the seeds of more of those thoughts, and Maka tried to steal her focus back to being a bridesmaid. She was lucky her shoe felt uncomfortable, rubbing her foot the wrong way as she walked and the pain concentrated her attention. Of course, there wasn't a moment to play with it or look because before she knew it, there was more shuffling, more dictation for standing and talking. Luckily, champagne was already being passed around, a small blessing that Maka took full advantage of. She was two and a half glasses in by the time the ceremony had run through, barring herself from any more as that delightful tingling feeling was taking over her head.
Maka felt Soul before she heard him, his hand pressing at the small of her back while his lips practically touched her ear. "Stay away from the other two."
"I could tell you didn't approve," Maka giggled. "You have to learn to control your face a little better."
Soul grunted. "You're a little drunk."
"A little, and no more, I swear," she murmured back to him.
"Don't sweat it. Give it an hour and we'll all be drunk." He planted a soft kiss on her cheek as he tapped his glass to hers. "Just make sure to stay conscious enough that I can grab a few more kisses."
"Will do." She grinned and watched him turn away, settling back into a quiet conversation with his brother.
There were only a few more directives before the group was allowed to trickle back into the main hall and actually start the finely catered meal. Thankfully this meant that Maka could finally be at Soul's side, who immediately snuck her hand under the table before she could even have the thought to search for his. "I don't want to give this speech," he mumbled in her ear as he leaned close.
"You practiced forever," Maka whispered back, "You'll do great. He'll love it."
"It's sappy," he groaned.
"It's supposed to be sappy," Maka laughed.
He was about to grumble again when the first glass clinked and Susanna stood, commanding the attention of the table. Soul wasn't sure if he was elated or terrified to have her go first, a precedent either set or a bar lowered. It took the same saccharine route that Maka had promised him things like this did, telling cute anecdotes about a childhood full of sisterly love as tears filled a few eyes at the table. It ended with applause, liquid actually rolling down cheeks instead of swimming in eyes, and a warm embrace between sisters.
Eyes turned to Soul and he slowly stood, his hand still clutching Maka's like a lifeline. "I guess this is where I'm supposed to tell some embarrassing story about Wes, or about our childhood growing up together, but I think I'm better off pointing out what I didn't realize about Wes until we were grown: there's nobody in this world who knows how to love better than he does. Honestly, he loves you whether you deserve it or not, whether you think you need it or not, and definitely with an intensity that you never expect. It's never selfish either, not loving because he's looking for the same in return, just always letting out what fills his heart without doubt and without restraint."
Soul was happy to turn his attention from Wes, who was definitely struggling through Soul's description, to Lizzie. "And it only took the first time meeting Lizzie to realize that I couldn't imagine a better person to get that love than her. I think it's safe to say that they are a matched pair, two people who need each other not just for the sake of needing but to make one another better. I'm happy that Wes has the kind of person who he can love to his fullest. To Wes and Lizzie." Soul raised his glass, getting that one last look in at Wes who was busy fighting with a trembling lip. He leaned over to him, sure he couldn't announce it to the world but knowing he wanted it said, "I love you, Wes."
The lean wasn't necessary anymore as Wes stood, grabbing Soul into his arms. "I love you, too, Soul."
Maka released him, her own eyes watering as the brothers embraced. The evolution from the moment where she'd first laid eyes on Wes to this one tumbled through Maka's mind. It welled up inside of her that this was what family was, rough edges rounded out by love instead of honed by pain and fear. A jealous part of her wished she could be right in the middle of that moment but she watched it happily nonetheless.
As Soul released Wes and sunk back into his seat he leaned towards her and pressed his lips against her cheek. "Thank you."
"You mostly wrote the speech, I just encouraged," she murmured.
He pulled away as he shook his head slowly, bringing a hand up to clear his face. "I meant for helping me get back to my brother."
"Soul…"
"Don't argue," he shook his head again. "Can't, anyway, it's time for dinner." With speeches out of the way, it cleared the landing for food, plates almost instantly materializing in front of each person. Soul was still a little sniffly as he ate, a task that took longer as he allowed one of his hands to constantly roam back to Maka, running a line down her side or her arm as an intermission between bites.
Maka took his words to heart as she continued to sip through her champagne, no longer considering the pacing as the room was slowly devolving in a real party instead of formality. We all came together at the same time, and now if I said we were a family, there wouldn't be an argument from any of them, would there?
With the food through and nothing more than conversation left to have, Soul turned to whisper something in Wes's ear before cupping her elbow. "Get some air with me."
"Of course," Maka cooed, the champagne fizzing in her head. She let him pull her to her feet and guide her away from the table towards the glass doors to the patio. As soon as she reached the stone walkway along the side of the hall, the flagstone coming as uneasy terrain, Maka grabbed on to him. "I need to fix my shoe."
Soul pressed her back into the slit of the window, forcing her to sit on the sill. "Just let me take a look."
"Ah, the handsome prince is going to try the slipper on the princess?" The champagne had most certainly gone to her head, the giggles trickling from her lips wholeheartedly.
"You're so drunk," he smirked before taking a knee, lifting her ankle up in what little light was streaming from the next door window. "I think I can fix it." He played with the clasp, unwinding the ridiculous twirling strap to her shoes before rewinding it without the kink she must have left in it with the rush of getting ready, forgotten until now in the anticipation of the night. "There. Feel better?"
Maka let out a long sigh, "It would be better if this night could finally be over."
"Soon." Soul gave into temptation, letting his hand drift from her ankle up her leg. "Stick to water from now on, that way when I get you upstairs to the room…"
"Soul," she chastised, grabbing at the hand that was disappearing up her dress and taking it in hers. "You're starting trouble." Maka leaned down, trying to keep herself steady as she bent just enough to almost reach his lips.
"What are you doing?" It was a shriek that almost sent Maka back through the window, saved by Soul's firm hand.
"Mom?" Soul slowly got up from crouching, rubbing the dirt off of his knee.
"What were you doing?" Catherine repeated, motioning towards Maka as she sat dumbfounded, looking at the fear melding into anger on Catherine's face.
"Just-" But Soul stopped as Maka grabbed his shirt, pulling him back a little.
"Help me down," she tugged at him again until he did what he was told. Maka wasn't all ease and grace, still feeling the alcohol surging through her veins, but she was still keenly aware of what just happened. She had felt it for just a second, that moment when he knelt down in front of her that Hollywood swell that started with 'will you' glancing across her mind. There had maybe been a little of that irrational hope there, even though she'd promised herself it was just an idea she was thinking about, a future somewhere far down the road.
Maka walked towards Catherine, foot feeling better after Soul's fix, the thought making the smile solid on her face. "Catherine-" The words didn't have a chance.
"Did he propose to you?" It was a shrill but still quiet enough that Maka considered it hadn't radiated past them.
But it had, Soul choking out a huff of air, "Mom-"
"No," Maka glided over Soul's answer, sending a hand back to pat at his chest.
"He was kneeling and you-"
"He was fixing my shoe," Maka answered slowly but the smile never left her face.
Catherine looked from Maka to her son, sending the question over Maka's shoulder. "You didn't propose to her?"
"No," Maka repeated. She could feel her hackles rising, puffed out and protective even without Soul's aid. "And maybe you should just go back to the rehearsal dinner, Catherine, because whatever you thought you saw, you didn't." Maka felt Soul's hand close around her arm, tugging wordlessly until she turned her head. "It's OK."
"It's not alright!" Catherine took a step forward and attempted to grab at Maka. The drunkness actually helped, sending Maka more than a step back, steadied by Soul's hold on her. "Tell me you're not engaged!"
"We're not," Maka repeated, her tone unrestrained and her voice almost a shout.
Catherine blinked at the reaction before taking another step forward. "Because you wouldn't, you can't possibly expect to be engaged to him?"
"Mom!" Soul started but stopped, feeling Maka practically punch him in the gut with her hand as it flailed back.
"We're not engaged," Maka repeated, enunciating each word. "But that doesn't mean it's never going to happen."
"Tell me now that you won't get engaged to him," Catherine hissed through her teeth.
"If you think it's so terrible, so impossible, then you shouldn't need me to confirm it." Maka took a shaky step forward, feeling Soul try to hold her back but still reaching toe-to-toe with Catherine. "Remember, he's deeply incapable of loving someone, anyway, right? So why should it matter?"
"Maka-" Soul didn't stand a chance, his words no longer holding any weight, no longer the guard dog in this spat. Besides that night in the alley with her father, he'd never actually seen her pissed off, but with the red flaring at her throat and her hands starting to clench into fists at her side he was already sure he never wanted to see it again.
"No, Soul, that's what she said and she should answer for it," Maka flexed her jaw, feeling only a little satisfaction in the grinding of her teeth. "If he can't love anyone, if I'm such trash, then worrying about us getting married should be the last thing on your list, Catherine."
"He isn't in your league," Catherine spat. "I don't know how you've come to wield the power over him that you do but it's not going to last - I refuse to let it last."
"He's a man, and I'm a woman, and that's the only league we're in." Maka flailed her arm back again, almost batted Soul in her attempt to motion towards him. "And do you know what power I have? I let him be him. I love him for who he is and not some expectation of what I want him to be."
Catherine stumbled over any words she could give in return, instead turning her eyes to her son. "Are you going to let her speak to me like this?"
Soul was slow, his flexing fingers on Maka's bicep before starting the gradual pull again, easing her a step back from his mother. He softly brought his hand to Maka's face, getting her to look his way, finally letting her focus on his existence long enough to pull her from the defensive. After he watched her take a breath, Soul turned his head to Catherine. "Did you say that, Mom?"
Catherine startled, her eyes blinking widely at him. "What I said isn't important, what she-"
"Did you say it, Mom?" It wasn't a shout but the chill, the strange even temper to his voice made it even more shocking than any volume. "You told her I couldn't love anybody?"
"Soul, what I meant was…" but there wasn't an explanation, Catherine's face pulling in tight as she found the words she wanted didn't exist.
The painful laugh hiccuped from his throat before he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Go back to the party, Mom. Go back right now."
Catherine reached for him but he recoiled. "Soul-"
"I'm not asking." There it was, that deep vacant voice, the demand without emotion but certainly with threat. It set Maka's teeth on edge. "Go inside."
Catherine took a step back, her eyes moving from one to the other, then took a tentative second step. Maka didn't wait, couldn't even generate enough care to want to wait to see her go, she just turned and grabbed onto Soul desperately. "Soul, I'm sorry."
But Soul was watching Catherine intently, his cold eyes following her another step back, then another until she'd slunk back into the party. As soon as her shadow disappeared he crashed into Maka, forcing her against the wall in a desperate press. His mouth was on hers, crushing, demanding, searching as his hands crumbled useless against the stone behind her. It hurt her, not just the intensity but the way she could taste his pain, his agony as those words repeated through his head. When they parted he was yelling, his ability for any of that learned control thrown to the side. "She's wrong, I can! I do love you," the words tapered off into a wounded howl.
Maka brought her hands to his face, trying to soothe, fingers searching for some kind of softness to grasp onto but his jaw was hard-set and his eyes still looked cold, somewhere else. "I know, I know," she tried to shush him as her fingers gently touched his lips.
"I'm trying so hard and she won't see it," his voice was still strangely icy, no intonation that she could hear. "I love you, I'm trying to be good to you."
"You are," Maka tried again but found the words falling uselessly off him.
Soul pulled back his hand, making a fist and driving it back into the stone next to Maka, feeling the splinter of pain as his knuckles connected. "Fuck!" He drew back again and on the second connection the skin split, starting the trickle of blood from his hand.
"Stop," Maka whispered desperately, her hands coming to his lapels to push him far enough away from the wall that another jab was out of reach.
"You didn't tell me," he whispered before letting it fall into a pained laugh. "I knew she said something to you but I always thought it was about you, but it was me, me…"
Maka moved her hands from his chest to his face, pulling his concentration from that deep well inside himself to her eyes. "It wasn't about you. She was talking about the Soul that she always envisioned, not the person you actually are. That was right after you saved me from the fight, right before you were making sure we felt a certain way about each other." She brought a tentative smile to her face, watching as that disturbing coolness started to disappear from his eyes. "And we both know that's not when you started caring. Sometimes it feels like you cared from the moment we met. You didn't love me then but you were already soothing, connecting from the moment you sat next to me in lab."
"Oh, Maka…" He was thawing, that uncontrollable rage starting to wither away as if her fingers held some kind of key to his heart, a wavelength that calmed his mind. The ache across his knuckles made it hard to clutch but he did it anyway, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her tightly.
Maka let her arms rub at his sides, running along his ribs as she managed a soft laugh against his neck. "I'm almost convinced you have too much love, Soul. You just haven't been allowed to have it. Between your parents pushing it away and you hiding it away, and you're just about bursting with it now."
He was quiet, just the sound of his breaths slowly coming to even. Finally, he laughed, short and sharp before muttering, "That sounds gross."
"Yeah, a bit," Maka giggled back. "You think I could come up with better."
"Post four champagnes apparently isn't your best time to write." Her golden strands tickled his lips as he pressed them to her hairline. "I don't want to go back. I don't want to see her right now. Hell, I'm not even sure I want to see her ever again."
"Come on, complain a little more," Maka patted his back. "Get it out of your system and then we do have to go back. It's just the rehearsal dinner. You have a whole forty-eight hours that you're going to have to get through."
"Maka," he grumbled as he tried to ease his hands open and closed against her back.
"Go ahead, be whiny, last chance." She pulled away slowly, ready to giggle at the annoyed look that she expected on his face but instead he was still, his eyes narrowing at her as if studying every line of her face.
Soul pulled one of his arms back, his hand coming to her chin to tilt it just a little more. "Having you, being able to call you mine, is one of the best things in my life."
"You're supposed to be complaining," she murmured breathlessly as the blush overtook her face.
"Didn't think it was worth the breath." That wide smirk stretched across her lips and Maka felt her heart tumbling into her gut, her legs weak underneath her. "Saying that was."