Disclaimed.

X-x-x Iris x-x-X

As a little girl her favourite colour had been pink, as was the same for basically every other girl her age.

She would insist on buying the pink version of the dress her mother had picked out. If offered a lolly, she would have to choose the pink one, no matter the taste.

So when her papa offered to paint her room, Maka only had one colour in mind.

"Are you sure you want it pink hon?" Kami Albarn squatted down to her daughter's height, looking into her familiar eyes.

She was secretly glad that her daughter had inherited most of her traits rather than Spirit's. Their daughter was prettier this way, if she did say so herself.

Maka nodded. "Of course Mama. Every other colour is yucky." The small girl pulled a disgusted face, making Kami laugh. Which in turn made the young death scythe enter the small stripped down room, wondering what the fuss was about.

"Ok then, if it's pink that you want, then it's pink you'll get." Kami stood up, ruffling Maka's hair on the way, the girl giggling at the attention.

"Papa! Papa! You're going to help Mama and me paint the room right?" The girl ran over to her father, pulling on his pant legs. "Or does Papa have to go out with the girls from work again?" Little Maka frowned.

"Don't worry Maka sweetie. Papa isn't going out with anyone." Kami spoke instead, picking her daughter up and placing the girls legs over her shoulders, Maka grabbed her Mother's head, holding on. "Isn't that right Spirit?"

"Of course, because you know Maka-chan?" He pinched her cheek. "Papa loves you and Mama the most!"

Maka didn't see the glares her mother was giving Spirit.

At the age of 12, two months after her mother had left, Maka begin to dislike the stupid colour.

So she painted her room.

Without Spirit's permission of course.

And she didn't care that her 'Papa' had yelled at her after she painted the walls a ridiculous yellow, along with half the carpet and most of her furniture along with it.

She hoped to be moving out when she joined Shibusen anyway.

So for a while her favourite colour changed to the yellow that was shown on her walls.

That was before she met him though.

"You don't talk much do you?" She stopped in front of him, hands held behind her back, trying to get him to at least acknowledge the fact that she was talking.

Her new weapon lifted his head up, eyes peering through the hair that was covering his face. "You have a problem with that?" He glared at her.

She tried her best to keep the emotions from crossing her face, as his eyes bore into her.

They were red like blood.

But they didn't scare her away. Rather, she liked them.

Such a deep colour.

"You know, like the colour red." The meister said suddenly, ripping her eyes away from his and turning around to walk in front of him, leaving Soul behind to question why the hell he chose to partner up with such a strange girl.

So when Soul had asked her what her favourite colour was one night, she was quick to answer.

"Red of course."

"…Why?" He looked at her from his spot on the couch, leaning over her legs –which were situated in his lap- and resting his chin on his elbows.

"Because." Maka mumbled, going back to her book.

She didn't exactly want to tell him the truth. That being, because the colour reminded her of him.

"Because why?" He pressed.

"Just because ok? Stop asking me questions, I'm trying to read."

Soul leaned back into the couch again, a smile playing around his mouth as he made a move to drag his finger tips over the skin on her ankle, drawing what seemed to be little invisible letters.

So much for trying to read.

Soul smirked before turning his head towards her, fingers still tickling her skin.

"Your colour preference wouldn't have to do with me would it?"

Maka glared at him over the top of her book.

"No."

It didn't take a genius to work out she was lying again.

The weapon sighed, and lifted his hands behind his head, resting them on the back of the couch.

"Do you want to know my favourite colour?"

"Sure." Maka said, trying to sound like she wasn't interested in such petty information. She continued to pretend to read.

"Green."

"What?"

"My favourite colour is green."

And she didn't need to ask him the reasons, as they were probably the same as why she liked the colour red.

Or so she hoped anyway.

A/N: Durrrr. My brain is dead. Sorry for this nonsensical, boring and badly written chapter.

Sorry if there are grammar errors... i'm tired.

Thanks for the reviews though. :D :D

*collapses from drowsiness*