A/N: I don't own Soul Eater yadda yadda.
X-x-x Mellifluous x-x-X
He looks at the instrument and sees music, he sees his past and he sees everything that describes the word unloved.
Estranged, bereft, rejected, despised, hated.
He sees his own soul reflected in the glossy black piano.
She looks at the instrument and sees nothing but ivory keys, black wood and gold metal. Boring and lifeless until someone touches a key.
But when he is standing next to it, her whole perspective changes. It is no longer boring, but dark and menacing, almost ominous. And it scares her.
He scares her.
No longer the cocky bastard he usually is. He looks troubled and distressed as he gazes over the ridiculously black instrument.
It makes her want to cry.
She doesn't know much about her scythe's past or family, and she doesn't dare talk about it. She has seen how he changes when the words family and love are introduced into conversation. She's intelligent therefore works it out for herself.
"Soul, you don't have to..." Maka told him, speaking for the first time, even though they had entered the dark music room minutes ago.
"Close the door behind you." The weapon didn't turn, instead he ran his index finger over the headboard, removing the collected dust along the way.
She did what she was told, the large room becoming increasingly depressing as the slowly closing door stole the last of the light.
Maka watched as her partner walked to the side of the room and flicked the switch, turning the light on over the piano, before making his way back over to the instrument.
"You wanted to hear me play again, right?"
He wasn't wrong. She had always wanted him to play for her again. Ever since their meeting 5 years ago. His playing while they were resonating didn't count. She was too busy fighting to listen to the music being created by her weapon.
Her boots made no noise on the tiled floor as she walked over to him, his back facing her still. The blonde was filled with anguish as she subconsciously glanced over his soul. It was radiating off him. Why was he doing this if it caused him so much sadness?
She stopped walking when she was no less than a foot behind him. Closing her eyes the meister gently lent her forehead against his back, hearing him sigh softly.
"If you don't want to, then don't." She whispered.
"It's fine." Soul spoke quietly. "I'm fine." He turned around to face her finally, Maka surprised, took a step back, obtaining a comfortable distance between the pair. "If it's you then I'm fine."
She couldn't help but to smile when his mouth curved up into his trade mark smirk. Anyone else would have thought that his pain had been wiped away, but they didn't know him like she did.
"Even though you're not very good with music, just listen. Try to understand."
Maka nodded before he turned his back again, this time proceeding to step around the piano stool before sitting down silently.
As much as she thought she was prepared for it, the first note that filled the silence of the room startled her. A low note, followed by another, then another, in no particular pattern.
The song wasn't happy. But then again it wasn't sad either. It was mysterious and catchy. Maka found herself swaying along to the somewhat melancholic tune. She guessed that if she did understand music like he did, she should have gotten something else out of it other than beautiful sounds.
Like a meaning.
It was love. That's how he had intended it, but she wouldn't understand and it didn't bother him. Rather he liked it. He liked to be able to play what he wanted. To play with such emotion pouring out and spilling into the notes. He liked that she didn't get it. He just wanted her to like the way it sounded, not to understand the feelings hidden away beneath the surface of the music.
Holding the last note for a lengthy amount of time, he didn't turn around to see what she thought of it. Instead he closed his eyes and drowned himself in the sound that was quieting every second that past. So he was surprised when a pair of hands slid across each shoulder and ran down his chest. He shivered.
"I loved it." The weight on his back whispered. "Does it have a name?"
"Uh no...I hadn't thought that far ahead."
"Call it Maka's song!" She laughed jokingly, her pealing voice echoing through the large room.
"Ok." He agreed, not thinking twice. It was about her in the first place.
"Seriously?" She laughed again. "I was kidding...Don't name something that beautiful after me." She tried to remove her hands from around his shoulders, but they were held in place by his own, not enabling the meister to move from her spot his back.
"Whatever. It's staying as your song." Soul let go of her hands, and she removed herself from his back, huffing.
"Let's go you idiot. I need to make dinner before it gets too late."
They walked away from the instrumental room, Maka walking a bit ahead of him. No, she wasn't exactly walking. It was more of a skip-walk, her hands joined together behind her back. Soul guessed it was because she was happy. That or she just wanted to get away from him. Either way, he really did like the title of the song, and the person it was dedicated to. Almost a little bit too much.
He sighed and smiled at her back.
Why did she have to leave him in such an uncool mess?
A/N: Just another one about a love struck Soul. Dammit. I need to write more ones from Maka's perspective.
...hint. Don't forget to uh...REVIEW! :D