Disclaimer: I do NOT own Soul Eater *cries for forever*

Summary: Written for Professor-Maka of tumblr and as a belated birthday gift! So, behold! The cute SoMa fluff! Heavily influenced by the song Tunnel Vision by Justin Timberlake!

Rating: T- language and innuendos

Pairing: SoMa

Chapter 4- Tunnel Vision

Today was supposed to be the best day of his life. Kid made sure that every detail of the day was planned perfectly (why wouldn't it be? It WAS planned by the new Shinigami and his weapons, after all). Everything had been going according to plan from the moment he woke up, so why was he so damn nervous?

Well, that was easy; it was the day that he was to be married to the love of his life—the woman who shaped him into the man he is today, the woman who is most gorgeous person in the world, the woman who was intelligent beyond measures—and that woman is none other than his meister, Maka Albarn.

His stomach does little flips every time he thinks about how in a few short minutes Maka will no longer be Maka Albarn; instead, she will be Maka Evans (mostly because she refuses to be Maka Eater; there are WAY too many sexual innuendos that Black*Star created from that idea). The idea that Maka wants to be married to him for the rest of her life still baffles him to this day, but hey, he's not going to complain. As he waits for the organ to play, an indication that the bridal party was about to enter, a small, toothy grin forms as he remembers her reaction to his proposal; he was never going to forget the awkwardness of that night.

Soul shifted from foot to foot nervously, waiting for Maka to finally come home from her meeting with Kid, er, Shinigami-sama. He MAY have paid off his friend to fabricate an emergency, meister only, meeting to keep Maka preoccupied for the past two hours as he prepared the house for the occasion. While Maka had been trapped at Shibusen at Kid's mercy, Soul feverishly cleaned the apartment, trying to make sure that it was spotless before moving to the kitchen to make a meal fit for a queen. While he wasn't the best chef in the world, he knew how to make some mean pasta dishes, and that he did for her. The end result was parmesan crusted chicken nestled atop a mound of linguini with garlic bread and a Caesar salad on the side. The meal was completed with a glass of red wine that he had saved specifically for an occasion such as this (thank you Wes for having connections!). He proudly placed the meal on the table and lit the candles surrounding a vase of flowers before dashing to his room to change into one of his less-grubby shirts and a nice pair of jeans (heaven knows if he proposed to her in a ratty t-shirt and sweat pants, he would never hear the end of it).

Hands fidgeting with the roses to make sure they sat perfectly in the vase, his worries began to get the best of him. What if she didn't want to marry him? Sure, they had been partners for what seemed like ages (was it really seven years already?), and been dating for around three years now, but was Maka ready for that type of commitment? His fingers began tapping out a rhythm on the table that was eerily similar to the racing of his heart as he panicked. This was stupid! She was never going to agree! Spirit and his fucked up ideals of how to treat women surely had made it to where she would never want to commit herself to one person. The ring box felt as though it weighed a much as one of the novels that Maka just loved to hit Soul with as it sat in his pocket, taunting him with how ridiculous his wish was.

Just as he was about to blow out the candles and scrap the idea, the doorknob jingled, indicating his meister-turned girlfriend's return. He felt his blood run cold as the door swung open to reveal a very disgruntled looking Maka. Shit, she was in a foul mood; he had to remember to chew Kid out later for that. This was only going to make things ten times worse. As she kicked her shoes off in frustration and threw her bag to the floor, Soul swallowed his fears. It was now or never, after all.

"Welcome home Maka," he squeaked out, instantly furious at how his nervousness shone through his normally cool exterior. He coughed quickly, hoping that she would mistake his cracked voice for needing to clear his throat. His voice shocked her, cutting her off from her mutterings about where Kid could go for the rest of eternity, making her look up at him.

"Hey So-," she started, but the words died in her throat as she saw Soul's face illuminated by soft candlelight. After her initial shock, she noticed the meal placed before her, and was instantly alarmed. "Wh-what's all this for?" she asked, feet automatically carrying her towards her boyfriend and his surprised for her. Had she forgotten their anniversary? If so, she would be so pissed off at herself.

"I just wanted to treat the most beautiful woman in the world," he whispered, walking around the table to seat her before returning to his seat. He found the blush that dusted her cheeks from his words to be adorable and strangely, it put him at ease. "We should eat before the meal gets cold," he suggested as she continued to stare at him skeptically, trying to figure out why he was being so generous towards her.

"O-okay," she murmured awkwardly before digging into the food. She cut into her chicken and took a generous bite before paling slightly. "Soul, did you cook this all the way through?" she asked, inspecting the offending piece of poultry. The chicken had a slimy texture that was not very appetizing and it was cool to the touch.

"What?" he asked, confused. He cooked it just like the recipe said! As he leaned across the table to get a look at the meat, he knocked into her wine glass and before he could even utter a curse word, it spilled on her, staining her one white uniform a beautiful burgundy. A piercing scream bubbled up from her lips as the cool liquid drenched her clothing. "Shit Maka! I'm sorry!" he cried, reaching for a napkin and scrubbing at the stain.

"Don't scrub! It will only make it worse!" she shrieked, batting his hands away. As her hands flailed about, she caught the edge of her plate, sending the contents of it flying her way, coating her in the foul meat, sauce and noodles. She froze as the meal covered her and Soul just gaped at her. There was no way that this was happening! This is not how he planned for the night to go at all! She quietly stood, the food cascading down her and hitting the floor with a plop. "I will be right back," she whispered calmly, heading towards her room, but not before she stepped in the pile of noodles, a sickening 'sploosh' sound reverberating through the room. He saw her spine stiffen slightly from the sensation of stepping in noodles before she all but sprinted towards her safe haven.

Soul groaned, placing his head in his hands after extinguishing the flames of the candles; a burned down apartment was one thing he did NOT want to add to this shit storm of a night. Of all the ways he pictured this night going, Maka covered in her meal after finding that hers wasn't even cooked properly was not one of them. "Fuck," he groaned again. There was NO way she would even think of saying yes now. He heard the water running from the bathroom, signaling that she was washing away the remnants of the disastrous meal. While she washed up, he cleared the table, glaring scathingly at the offending meal as he rid himself of it permanently. Note to self—cut open the chicken to make sure it's properly cooked before serving it to the woman that you want to make your fiancée.

"Wanna order takeout?" her soft voice called, breaking him out of his thoughts of how stupid chicken was and how horrendous the night had been so far. He turned around, seeing her hair make soft, wet curls around her face as she drowned in a shirt that was way too big for her, evidence that she was indeed the reason his dresser was lacking in shirts. Before he could even comprehend what he was saying, his voice rose as he yelled.

"No I don't wanna order take out. I want this night to fix itself! I want my meal I cooked for you to be perfect! I want that chicken to burn in hell for not being cooked right! I want to hit myself for knocking that wine onto you! I just wanted this night to be perfect—right down to me proposing to you!" It was after his lungs were screaming at him to replenish the oxygen he expelled from his tantrum that he realized what he yelled at her, and his heart stopped. No, he did not just ask her to marry him by yelling at her. There was no fucking way he did that.

"P-propose?" she asked timidly and he flinched internally. Yeah, he had done it; he should go dig his grave now because that was where this dreaded night was headed. He chanced a glance at her and instantly felt terrible when he saw tears in her eyes. Great, first he spills food all over her, then he yells at her, and now she's crying; what a fucking perfect night.

"Maka don't cry-"

"Do you mean it?"

They both stopped quickly, realizing that they were trying to talk over the other. He nodded at her, afraid to open his mouth and make even more an ass out of himself.

"Do you mean it?" she repeated, eyes holding his as she stepped toward him shyly. "Are you actually proposing to me?"

"I was going to. I paid Kid to keep you busy while I prepared. I wanted to make this night wonderful and all I did was fuck it up-"

"Yes."

"W-what?" he asked, his ramblings cut off by the simple word from her.

"Yes, I will marry you," she repeated, slightly exasperated that she had to repeat herself; she knew Soul wasn't deaf, so why was he acting like he was?

"You will? But tonight was such a train wreck. I wanted it per-"he started but she silenced him with a finger upon his lips.

"And you say I talk too much," she taunted, giggling as a blush crossed his cheeks. "Yes I will marry you; I love you Soul. So what that tonight wasn't perfect? It's the thought that counts, and I can tell that you put a lot of effort into this. So, for the last time, yes, I will marry you," she whispered, small tears gathering in her eyes as she started into his crimson ones.

He blinked once before throwing the silencing finger away from his face as his lips crashed against hers, joy overflowing every crevice of him. She said yes! She said yes! SHE SAID YES! He couldn't keep the wide grin off his face as they parted to catch their breath, him fumbling in his pocket for the ring. After he finally steadied his hand, he slipped the small band on her left hand, giddiness taking over him as he saw more joyous tears gather in her eyes as she looked down at the ring that adorned her finger. It was simple; a single princess-cut, black diamond with a ruby on one side and an emerald on the other. It laid upon a band of white gold and it was a symbol of their souls coming together in perfect harmony. Her eyes trailed back up to his, lust filling them as she connected their mouths once again.

"I love you Soul," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you too, Maka," he murmured, lifting her up and carrying her to his bedroom swiftly. Even though the night started off as a train wreck, it definitely had to be one of the best nights of his life to date.

He was jolted from his thoughts of that wonderfully awkward night by a nudge to his shoulder from Black*Star. It was then that he realized that the music had started already; Angela halfway down the aisle, throwing pedals chaotically. As the audience stood and turned their attention to the doors at the back, Soul felt his nerves spike again. However, as soon as Maka came into view, all was forgotten, even his ability to breathe. She was stunning; there were no other words that could describe how his soon-to-be wife looked. The dress was an off the shoulders number, sleeves made of lace that went to the crook of her elbow. Lace covered the bodice and came to an end at the waist where a silken bow separated lace from the silky poof of fabric that made up the skirt and train. As his eyes roamed up her body, he noticed soft ringlets framing her face, a small poof atop her head for her veil to fit in snugly. Her eyes trapped his; her smoky makeup accentuating her features without taking away from her natural beauty. He felt his throat go dry from the sheer beauty of her.

As she approached him, he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers, even as her father handed her over to him, blabbering about how his baby wasn't a baby anymore. As he took her hand in his, he felt all of his worries melt away; there was no need to be nervous. This was Maka, his Maka. They were meant for one another, and nothing would ever change that. The ceremony went by in a blur and as he kissed his wife for the first time, he knew that no matter what life threw at them, they would get through it together. He had been foolish to worry, it ended up being a perfect day after all.

A/N: Read and Review my lovelies! And happy birthday to ProMa! I love you :D