hi there! i'll slowly be cross-posting the drabbles i've written on Tumblr (my handle on there is redphlox) to this collection. this first short fic is the bonus day prompt "heartbeat" for a soulxmakaweek 2020, which was held on Tumblr (the hosting blog name is: soulxmakaweek; go check it out!) thanks for stopping by and please let me know your thoughts!

heartbeat

X

Maka isn't sure when she began to lose her mind and started playing pretend. It must be because of all those damn books she reads.

Oh well.

Whatever it is that caused her to spiral out of control, at least it helps her imagine that Soul reacts well when she stirs him from his sleep at two in the morning. No, he's happy (beyond irritated) that she asks him (demands) to please take her to the library (give her a ride that instant or else) because she absolutely needs to check out a book (NOW!) from the restricted section. After all, he's her weapon partner and she needs his (ID card) help. No one else can possibly do this for her except him, Soul (because of his ID card).

And she did not want his attention. Nope.

In her own little fantasy world, Soul is glad that she came to him. ("You can't just walk into my room whenever you want like your dad at a strip club, Maka, damn, what if I had been naked?!") He slips into his shoes and jacket and grabs his keys without denying her. ("I'm going to freeze my nuts off, just for you…") The best part is that he relaxes under her touch when she smooths out his bed hair. ("Maka, ouch! That's my hair! Me telling you that my nuts are going to shrivel up does not warrant you to pull my fuc-")

Now, in the parking lot, she slides her arms around Soul's waist, pressing herself against his back as he starts his motorcycle, only to exclaim, "Wait, let me tie my hair back!"

Soul peers over his shoulder to watch as she gathers her hair into a quick, messy bun. A certain…pining? gleam in his eyes sends shivers down her spine. Once she's done, he navigates them through the empty and quiet streets to the library. To Maka, it seems like the traffic lights work faster at three in the morning because the pair don't encounter any red lights, which are the best, as they provide more time for Maka to play pretend. During those stops she can almost convince herself that she's not fighting back a powerful, undeniable something for Soul.

The motorcycle rolls to a stop in front of the library. Oddly self-conscious of the strands that hang loosely around her face, Maka grunts when he tells her he'll wait outside. She feels his eyes on her as she climbs the stairs and then again minutes later when she wanders out, book tucked between her arm and ribcage.

"Okay, take me home," she says, thumping his helmet.

"Yes, my angel," Soul drawls before speeding off.

So much for playing pretend. Maka definitely heard him say those words. Thank goodness he can't see the red watercoloring her cheeks. It's times like these, when he's relaxed even though she's indisputably invading his personal bubble, that Maka questions why she needs to deny what their partnership has blossomed into. This is Soul, with his – ah, how did he put it all those years ago? 'Fear of touching others'. Yet he does not flinch when she clings to him as they ride home.

Even yesterday, like many other times, she had accidentally sat too close to him. Soul's gaze had been glued to the television while Maka read, and she had forgotten that he was sitting on the other end of the couch. She had stretched out her legs into his lap without thinking. How was she supposed to move them when he placed his hands on them so casually, like they belonged on her so comfortably? It's—

"You have to let go of me," Soul's voice drawls through her thoughts.

Ah, they're at the apartment now – Soul has parked his motorcycle in its usual parking spot, and silence that only the early morning hours can achieve hum around them. A single nearby streetlamp provides a beacon of soft yellow light. Maka pretends that she isn't embarrassed as she climbs off the bike, that her arms miss him and that she's fiddling around in her backpack to look for her keys even though Soul has his own in his hands. Their neighbors have their porch lights on, and they look like lanterns guiding the pair to their own door, which Soul shuts behind him as he kicks off his shoes.

"Are you upset?" The demon scythe sure doesn't beat around the bush. "I'm not actually mad that you woke me up, you know. I was just giving you a hard time. Teasing you."

Maka spins on her heels and shrieks, her vocal cords straining. "No, I'm not mad!" And that's the truth, though. She's just hopelessly confused. Why does he make her feel too much?

Soul bites down an amused smirk. "Good, because I'm not mad either."

Death, even his mouth is so infuriating. "Good!"

"Good!" he returns, laughing. His stupid grin just makes her stomach flutter and pisses her off more. What's with his know-it-all attitude?

"Fine!" she yells, growling indignantly when he steps forward and cups her cheeks. Oh no, he's too close and it's driving her crazy. She may pass out.

"Shut up," Soul says, not unkindly. They're the most tender words she's heard him speak. "Do you need a hug?"

All she can do is nod. They sigh in unison, Maka closing her eyes as she rests her head against her chest. This close to him, she doesn't have to pretend to not feel anything. Maka can just be, and what she is… is completely head over heels for her partner. And she can finally allow herself to focus on him.

"…I can hear your heartbeat," she whispers a couple of minutes later.

"Good." When he speaks, his chest rumbles and she can't get enough of it. "Listen as much as you want for as long as you need."