Away From the Sun
by. Poisoned Scarlett
Sept
She can't stop looking at them and it's driving her insane.
But they're so perfect to her now, how could she not have noticed before? From the swell of his lower lip to the glint of the pointed teeth that peek from between them. The color, size, texture – she grits her own teeth and glares at the window of the subway sullenly.
It's been a few days since that incident but the day after had been the most embarrassing in her life, as far as she knows. Just sitting beside him, hearing her own heart drum in her ears, trying to come up with something to break the awkward tension in the air. She was lucky Soul was blessed with the innate ability to smooth everything over, for when he opened his mouth, a safe conversation about bands and rock invaded the otherwise strained silence.
Although he ended up angering her by criticizing her musical taste, it was much better than sitting there silently until her stop came.
The problem is, now that they've outwardly established they were both suffering from a one minute amnesia about that small accident, she can't stop looking at his lips. They haven't been much of a distraction before but now they are: every time he laughs, he grins, he smirks, he puffs out a chuckle at whatever it is she says…
She's a little relieved Hiro has come to distract her from her furtive glances.
Anymore of those and eventually she'd be obvious. If she wasn't already, that is.
"Going to college again?" Hiro starts off, pretty casual.
Maka stands by the automated doors, holding onto the pole. Soul has entered only a few minutes ago but, as usual, he goes to sit toward the back. She wants to sit beside him but waiting for a seat to vacate would likely give off a different intention than she wants. And perhaps it's better this way: watching him from afar, like she did in high school, had always been the safer route.
"Yeah, what about you?" Maka continues, probably damning herself. But she needs to stop glancing up at the window to catch his reflection, to catch sight of his lips. She tightens her grip on the pole.
Hiro seems surprised she even replied and enthusiastically says: "Oh! I'm goin' to work! I work part-time at this bookstore by Whitey street."
This perks her interest. Maka fully faces him, a smile blossoming on her face. "Really? I know that bookstore. I go there all the time! I didn't know they were hiring... if I had known, I would've applied! It's definitely better than my own job." She sighs, knowing that after her classes she'd have to drag herself back to that dismal bakery for another seven hours.
"Where do you work at?" He asks, curiously.
"At this bakery – trust me, you do not want to go there." Maka says, wincing a little. She shouldn't be speaking so badly about her job. It wasn't like the pastries were bad, she just disliked her boss. She thinks it's the same thing: love was another ingredient in cooking, right? Something her boss didn't have enough of – except for Kim, that is. Then he had too much love. She sighs again. "It's not that big, but he pays well."
Hiro laughs. "Sounds pretty bad. You must not have much to do there. It's the same for me at the bookstore – man, it's so boring in there! There's just a bunch of books all around!" Maka's smile falls off her face completely, her stare becoming glacial. "And that old guy in there is such a pain! He's always tellin' me to go restock the shelves. Like they need restocking – we barely sell anything." He shakes his head, blinking at the narrow-eyed look she's sending him.
"…That old guy has a name. It's Sid, and he's a very nice man!" She growls through her teeth, ignoring his sputtering. She turns away from him and glares at the automated doors, fighting back the urge to shout at him to shut up because it wasn't like he had a chance with her anyway.
Not since she felt Soul's lips.
Speaking of Soul, Maka glances up at his reflection in the window. Some of her irritation fades at the sight of his snickering grin, the satisfied look that mars his face. He's looking at them, Maka notes, he's looking at Hiro and how he's struggling to get her to pay attention to his apology.
"…I didn't mean it! I didn't know you were friends with the guy!" Hiro laments, placing a hand on her shoulder. The action makes her look over at him, up at his apologetic blue eyes. "Seriously, I'm sorry." He says, and her eyes drift down his own lips.
They're not as attractive as she finds Soul's to be. They're too pale, thin. Definitely not as alluring as Soul's. She lets her eyes return to his own, the apprehension and hope that glimmers within. She heaves a silent sigh because she can't be mad a person when they look this sincere, so she turns back to him and offers a small smile of forgiveness.
"Hey! Let me make it up to you!" Hiro suddenly suggests, causing her shoulders to stiffen. "Let me take you out for dinner!"
"Um, I don't think that's a good idea, Hiro—!"
"No, c'mon, I was being a bastard. It's the least I could do." Hiro coaxes, pulling on a charming smile. She drops her eyes to the floor, pinking a little. He really does have a smile worthy enough to photograph, thin lips and all. "What do you say, Maka?"
"Well..." She looks back up at him. Agreeing to have dinner with him could go one of two ways: it could go great, which would mix up her feelings. Or it could go bad, which would make her step closer to Soul. But what were the chances of Soul even liking her back? Maka reasons. Here was this equally handsome guy, willing to take her to dinner, his crystal blue eyes catching the light the way diamonds would. "I—!"
"And we have arrived at Hawthorn and Vine station…"
"I have to go!" Maka says instead, blood draining from her face at what she had nearly agreed to. Hiro looks like he wants to say something but she doesn't give him the chance: she just about runs to the door, shoving past a couple and not halting her rapid stride for anything. She can feel the panic drain from her veins the further she walks, her heart regain its normal thump-thump beat.
What had that been all about?