General, personal, romantic, platonic, ect.
A/N: You know what, I don't know where I was going with this. It was going to be angsty but then it became prosy because I promised y'all minimal angst.
Canonverse or otherwise; you choose
It was evil, and it was sin. She couldn't see her own heart, not anymore.
As they opened their world for each other, bits and pieces of another darker universe were bound to slip through. Whether they found cracks of loneliness or shards of forgiveness to latch onto, Maka didn't know, but one thing was clear, her insanity was going to drag them both down.
It wasn't quite the insanity that they knew of, rather, it was the kind that festered and built on its own, slowly consuming her inner most light. Even the brightest candle flickered, and even the largest wick will burn away to ashes.
No one was safe from their own soot-filled hearts, and no amount of water could purify the stains. She wasn't an exception. The nights of bliss and their tranquil days were nothing but illusions. In her soul, her shimmering soul, there lies a kind of lust that she never wanted. No, not that kind of lust, but the lust that causes her to be come enveloped by desire for what shouldn't be coveted.
How does one admit that they are hungry for power, that they yearn for what will harm them, that their fire has been scorched all that touched it, and that they lusted.
Black-blood didn't belong to her. Black-blood. Black-blood was evil. Black-blood was sin. Black-blood. Black-blood made her powerful. Black-blood gave her strength. Black-blood. Black-blood that ran through Soul's veins. Black-blood that could run through hers. Black-Blood.
She shook these traitorous thoughts from her mind, choosing instead to fall into Soul's arms late at night. It was like her body sought his, no matter what her mind, body, and soul wanted. His voice was the siren that beckoned her out to sea, and she couldn't hear anything else, not even if she wanted to.
There was danger, being both in love with Soul and being in love with his power. It was a fine line that she walked on. Once she tasted the promise of darkness, she was a goner. Where he was her light, he was also her darkness, and yet he smiled at her like he didn't know. He laughed with his heart on his sleeve and flowers braided in his hair. That very smile that brought her to sin.
When she pushed his door softly with a creek, he was waiting for her already, just like the nights before. His back was turned, illuminated by the blue of the full moon that shone through his window. It's light was just like Soul. Brilliant, vibrant, dazzling, pure, auspicious. They were all Soul. He was the moonbeam that fell from the sky into her open palm, but as she closed herself around him, she dimmed his shine.
As she approached, he heard her gentle breath, and he turned towards her, smiling, as he always did. Maka didn't want to see it, though it coaxed her closer. His radiance was blinding and his music was deafening, thrilling to seek but painful to touch.
Maka stood on the tips of her toes, leaning in enough to barely graze his ears, not yet touching him. She whispered to him, "Do you ever think we should just stop this?" Her arms dropped to her side, and she bit her lip at the side of his shocked expression. "Of course we should."
She pulled back slowly, hoping that there was still time for him to reach her, praying that he would show her some sign. Perhaps Soul could still cleanse her heart with his. But the storm that formed in his eyes never faltered and never parted to give way to light. She dimmed him. He didn't move, not an inch, not even when she returned to her heels, turning slightly, and left the way she came.
But by morning, she was found sleeping by his side with her fists bundled in his chest... and the night after... and the nights following that...
How do you catch a moonbeam in your hands?
You just don't; you let it catch you.