F: Fail
Soul sighed. 'Why..of all people. My meister and bookworm.. Maka..' Oh yes, Soul had it bad. He had fallen head over heels for his sweet meister.
Her newly developed, and nicely rounded Soul might add, chest. Her slight hips. Her flat stomach. Oh so long legs. Yes, Maka had grown up. She now wore mostly jeans or skirts with flattering tops.
Soul gazed to look at the young woman next to him. She was sitting curled up on the couch. Her sandy blond hair loose down her back. Her jewel green eyes tracing the lines of the book she was reading. He smiled at her facial expressions. If she was excited, her eyes widen and the quickly read on. If she was confused, she mad a baffled face and reread that line. If she was sad, her eyes grew solemn. Happy, she would give a lil smile an sometimes reread that line. He smiled as she gave a baffled look, flipped back a couple pages an reread a passage before continuing on.
'God.. She's so beautiful.. And strong.. and kind.. Smart.. Sweet.. Heh. Tiny-tits isn't so bad now that I'm a Death Scythe. She's so..relaxed now..'
"Soul, is there something you want to talk about?" Soul jumped at her voice. And was startled to see that she had stopped reading and caught him staring.
"Er.." 'NOT cool, Soul' He scolded himself. "No..?"
"Soul, are you sure? Soul?!" Soul had gotten up, and bolted, leaving Maka sitting on the couch alone and confused. "..Eh..?"
Soul panted in his room, leanin on the door.
'NOT. COOL.'