Away From the Sun
by. Poisoned Scarlett

Six

"You wrecked your motorcycle?" Maka gapes when he nods and points to his arm. She watches him pull the sleeve up, revealing healing, scarred, flesh underneath. It makes her chest tighten painfully. That must have looked terrible when he awoke from the crash.

"Yeah, some idiot didn't see me or something and caught the back of my wheel." He explains, lowering his sleeve. "I have another scar on my chest." He rubs that absently. The subway rocks with motion, rather empty at this time of morning. It's a Sunday and she is heading over to the mall to meet up with her friend, Tsubaki, for a nice little outing to relieve the stress of university.

She happened to spot him sitting lonesome by the back of the train and had mustered up enough courage to head over to him and say hi, sitting down after getting a positive reaction. At least he hadn't sent her away with a flat look like he does to other girls who try to talk to him.

"You're so lucky to be alive! You should get a car instead. It's a lot safer!" She insists.

But he waves her concerns off. "When I decided to get a bike, I knew the risks. And I know the risks better now that I was in this accident. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna' give up riding."

"But what if you wreck again and you aren't so lucky this time?" She challenges.

"Well, then, at least you can say that I was the coolest guy you've ever met." He grins at her, rolling his eyes at her slit – but concerned – emerald eyes. "Relax, I can't afford another bike yet. It'll be months before I decide to get on one again… for now, I'm stuck taking the subway everywhere I go."

"It's much safer than riding a motorcycle." Maka stubbornly says.

"Yeah, and a lot lamer." He grumps.

"But at least you'll be alive longer!"

"And what does me living longer have anything to do with this?"

"What does it – I don't want you to die, stupid!" Maka shouts, fiercely. He just arches a brow, his smile growing into an amused grin the longer she rants about how his life is valuable and how many would miss him if he were gone and how he shouldn't take his life for granted like he's doing.

When he chuckles, Maka's rant put to a pause, he just leans back in his seat and lets a few more chuckles escape his lips.

"What's so funny?" She demands, bordering on a growl.

"You." He grins at her sneer. "That's just too cute. Going off about the importance of me not dying. You're probably the only person whose gone far enough to lecture me about it." He explains, adjusting his headphones on his neck while she pinks and looks at him strangely.

"No one else has told you?"

"Nope. Parents didn't really care, just said not to buy an expensive motorcycle, and my brother didn't know until a year later. But he still didn't say anything." Soul says, watching her brows crease worriedly. She cared, and it made his fondness for her ratchet up a little more. "Black Star thought it was awesome, so he didn't even mention I could die at any moment if I made it my main mode of transportation."

"Black Star?" Maka asks, perking up. "So you're still friends with that idiot?" She knows he is but she still wants to hear it come out of his mouth.

"Yeah." He notices her disdainful look and adds: "He ain't that bad now."

"He'll always be bad." She scoffs. She crosses her legs, annoyed at the thought of him. "He was the bane of my existence when we were in high school."

"Oh, c'mon." He smirks. "Just cause he called you out every time he could and he dubbed you pigtails?"

"YES!" Maka yells, hotly. He lets the fleeting thought of her skirts riding up her thighs interrupt his thought process before he focuses on what Maka has to say next: "Do you know how embarrassing it is when everyone doesn't know you by your name but by 'pigtails'?"

"It couldn't be that bad." He scoffs. He looks away: her skirt is too short. But she's always worn short skirts. He remembers the time during high school they were climbing up the stairs and he had been a few steps behind her and a strong wind had blown past them. He got the best panty shot ever, ruined by her plain and uninteresting white underwear.

"What if everyone knew you by Sharkie?" Maka flatly shoots back, earning herself a glare.

"What'd you just call me, Pigtails?"

"I said, what if everyone knew you by Sharkie?" She repeats, not at all afraid when he leans closer to her, lifting his lips in a sneer.

"I'd be pretty pissed." He hisses.

"How do you think I felt?" She strikes back, her eyes burning up. After a moment of holding her stare, he leans back and exhales a breath; not at all in the mood to be trying to hold a staring competition with a girl who was far too interesting for her own good.

"Alright, so?"

"So I hate him! Some people still call me that!"

"Wait, so it stuck through until college?" He cackles, clutching his gut. "Oh, man! That's rich! I can't wait to tell Black—!" He sucks in a breath and slams back into the seat, wide-eyed as she grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him closer to her. He can feel her breath tickle his lips; inhale the mint from her gum.

"You let one word of this slip to him and you'll find yourself waking up in the hospital with no recollection of the last few hours." Maka hisses threateningly, prepared to reach into her bag and pull out her novel if necessary.

Soul raises his brows but says nothing, watching her watch him. He vaguely hears the conductor announce her stop in the background as his surprise melts into a sultry confidence. "Really," he drawls, leaning down a little more. Confusion flickers through her eyes before they widen, realizing what he was doing. "What're you gonna' give me in return? It's a pretty big secret to keep all to myself..."

She feels heat rise to her cheek and she moves back. But he follows, to her utmost panic, a feline playfulness sparking in his ruby eyes. She knows she should tell him to back off but it's a little hard when you feel like a rock had lodged itself in your throat.

"Soul, don't make me hurt you." She chokes out. His eyes just glint a little more.

"I'm serious, Maka—!" and she freezes when their lips touch when the train jerks to a stop. His own eyes widen, as if he hadn't thought their lips would really meet. He probably hadn't. But they have and she feels them tingle when they jerk back, staring at each other. It's making blood pool in her cheeks and making her heart thump really loudin her ears—!

"…have arrived at the Sunset and Yale station…"

"Uh, crap, my bad!" Soul sputters, quick to regain his cool and look down to hide his steadily reddening face. "The train stopped, so…"

"I… it's okay. It was an accident." She coughs, staggering up. "I should probably go."

"Yeah, later."

Her mouth feels hot. They remember the feeling of his lips. She wants to feel them again but instead she waves a hasty goodbye and marches to the exit, casting him one last hesitant look.

His teeth have caught his lip between them, seemingly lost in thought.

Maka bites her own and shakes her head, hurrying to meet Tsubaki at the front of the station, where they'd agreed to meet.