A/N: This is a companion piece to "#1 Crush;" it's the same situation, written from Soul's viewpoint. The song that served as inspiration was "Read My Mind" by The Killers. I've been fairly obsessed with it for the past week and this is where it took me. How Blair wormed her way in there is beyond me, but there she sits. Enjoy!

I'd love feedback if you liked it or even hated it; I can only improve my craft by knowing where I've done well and where I've butchered it. Thanks to those who have reviewed; I appreciate it and I'm glad you are enjoying it so far!

Read My Mind:

It's funny how you just break down
Waitin' on some sign
I pull up to the front of your driveway
With magic soakin' my spine
Can you read my mind?

He was tired of playing this game, of waiting for her to say or do something, anything, to give him a sign. He was tired of ignoring the obvious, of shoving down his feelings and watching as she shoved down her own. He was just plain tired. It had gone on long enough and if she wasn't going to do something about it, then damnit, he was. At least, that was the plan. Executing that plan without suffering death by Maka Chop was another matter entirely.

This wasn't the first time Soul had wanted to say something, not by a long way. He had taken a long, long time to come into a decent awareness of his own feelings. Years of friendship and partnership, of being too close for too long, made extricating the standing affection he had for her from the more long developing feelings of love (and let's face facts, lust) nearly impossible. Realizing that his shift from only noticing what she lacked to what she most certainly didn't, from teasing her about fat ankles to staring at her mile long legs, from deriding her appearance to mentally obsessing over every part of her, these things had taken time. Truth be told, derision had always been a mask for feelings that he had considered uncool in all the ridiculous self-absorption and anxiousness of adolescence, but for him to come to realize how he really felt, how he had come to feel over time, well, that had been a long process in itself. What had happened in the book of Eibon, the thought of her leaving him, that had nudged him, hard; it had forced him to face the potential for a life without her, a hideous, misshapen half-life. Soul simply could not see himself without his meister anymore. Their struggles afterwards, the increasing danger, the very real possibility of losing her on the moon, all of these things had only cemented those feelings. Soul would only ever be a shadow without Maka. Perhaps that had not been an easy thing for a cool guy to admit, but cool guys also didn't lie to themselves.

Realizing was one thing, however; acting on that realization was a different matter entirely, particularly when there was another person involved. Even more particularly when that person was Maka Albarn and his meister. Soul knew and knew well that however much he could sense about how she felt, there was a total disconnect between feeling and thinking when it came to Maka; as much as she could plunge headlong into the stupidest situation in the middle of a fight, she overthought every fucking aspect of things when it came to their partnership. He knew it came down to fear and independence and that asshole Spirit, but that didn't mean that he knew how to get around it, and for a long time he had just waited and watched and hinted and figured she'd eventually come around because the way they felt about each other was a clear as the noontime sun on a cloudless day. But waiting wasn't easy, and Soul was getting pretty damned tired of all the innuendo, of everyone thinking his and Maka's joint love life (or lack thereof) was their business. How many snide comments had he gotten from Black*Star, from Liz, from Patti? Hell, even Kid and Tsubaki had chimed in, albeit in a more calm and just-trying-to-be-helpful way.

The friendly concern he'd sidestepped and the jokes he'd ignored, brushing them off like he brushed off the dozens of girls who took an interest in him, but who had long since had no chance of catching his eye. And even the attentions of his fan club had diminished because there didn't seem to be anyone left at Shibusen who didn't know that he only had eyes for Maka except for maybe Maka herself. Hell, he was pretty sure even she knew and just wouldn't see it for what it was because she was Maka, the girl with the compassion to embrace even someone as broken as Crona and the courage to face down Asura, but who was so emotionally stunted when it came to the idea romance that she refused to acknowledge the very idea of loving someone, even someone like Soul, who he damned well knew she trusted with her life, her soul, her everything. The last of Maka's trust issues over him had been erased in the Book of Eibon, yet here they still were. Fucking Asshole Spirit.

He might still be waiting if not for Blair. Blair of all people. Though overly affectionate and constantly trying to ensure his death via blood loss, the magical cat generally stayed out of things that weren't her business, leaving her roommates to deal with their own issues. That is, until the day she decided to join in on the why the hell aren't Maka and Soul an item bandwagon and confront him. He was planted on the couch at the time, eating some ramen and a watching game of baseball on the tube; Maka was out nerding it up at her bimonthly book club and he was enjoying the alone time.

Blair had wrecked his solitude by hopping up on the couch, stretching towards him on the next cushion over with her head on her paws, and looking up at him expectantly. So much for alone time. Then she had to go and complete the intrusion by talking.

"So, Soul-kun? Where is Maka-chan today?"

"You know she has book club every other Saturday." Blair had lived with them for long enough to have their schedules pretty down—even she wasn't that dense.

"That's right," she was still peering up at him with something like expectation. It was unnerving. "Why do you never go, Soul-kun? I'll bet Maka-chan would like it."

"Maka-ch…Maka would most certainly not like it, and I don't want anything to do with that nerdfest. What would I do there, watch the walls?"

"Are you saying you don't like spending time with Maka-chan?"

"I'm her weapon. I spend most of my time with her." This was getting ridiculous. What was their stupid roommate trying to get at?

"Yeah, but don't you think Maka-chan would like it if you went somewhere together, somewhere she likes?"

"We go almost everywhere together." Blair let out a huff of something that sounded suspiciously like exasperation and didn't say anything for several moments. Finally, she spoke again.

"But you never go on dates together." She pushed. "I think Maka-chan would enjoy going on a date with her scythe-boy." Ah. So that's what she wanted. Soul wished he could disappear into the couch cushions rather than have this conversation with anyone, especially their oversexed feline roommate. Well, he had sidestepped Kid and Tsubaki. Surely, he could sidestep Blair, too.

"Maka isn't interested in dating," he shrugged, his eyes glued to the television. "Neither am I, for that matter." Strictly speaking, it was true. He didn't want to date Maka—he wanted much, much more than that word could possibly convey. Kid and Tsubaki would have left it at that. But not Blair.

"But don't you love Maka-chan?" Soul began coughing and sputtering. He had just taken a bite and noodle and liquid flew everywhere.

"What makes you think…?" He choked out, slamming his ramen down on the coffee table in front of him and glaring down at the meddling cat. Because yeah, only an idiot couldn't see the writing on the wall that they had feelings for each other, and yeah, to say he loved her would pretty much be an understatement, but no one else had asked so bluntly and he felt uncomfortable and exposed.

"Please," the cat rolled her eyes. "Half of Death City thinks you guys are an item or should be, you think your roommate is that silly, scythe-boy? But it's more than that." Her amber eyes were serious; Blair was never this serious. It was disconcerting. "You remember when we met?" Her tone was casual, but the implications were anything but.

"How could I forget?" He had long since ceased blushing over the magical cat, had even ceased the nosebleeds, but he blushed now because she was trying to make some sort of point about Maka, that much was clear.

"So you remember what you did, what you said to Maka-chan before you turned on me?" Blair never, never talked about how they had taken one of her lives. It was water under the bridge as far as they were all concerned.

"Yeah…" he said, not understanding or wanting to understand what she was getting at.

"That was when Bu-tan knew scythe-boy loves Maka-chan."

"Whaa…?" He sputtered. That didn't even make sense. He had had no clue himself back then, and yeah, if he squinted hard enough then he could trace his feelings back that far, but only just.

"Love is my stock in trade, scythe-boy. Bu-tan is a temptress; it's what I do. The only men who don't fall hard my charms are the ones whose hearts are already taken. Soul-kun turned on Bu-tan back then because you already loved someone else, and by your words, Bu-tan knew right away that someone was Maka-chan. Bu-tan didn't understand why then, because Maka-chan seemed so violent and you two bickered so much that I thought it must be some kind of fluke. But every attempt Bu-tan made to turn scythe-boy's eyes my way you refused, and then I knew. Maybe your body responded, but your heart was elsewhere and you pushed Bu-tan away. And these days, Bu-tan can't even get a physical reaction out of her scythe-boy." She pouted a bit at that. A cat pouting was almost comical and Soul would have laughed if he didn't want to run, far and fast. Yet something glued him to his seat, transfixed. He didn't quite understand where she was going with this, not exactly. He said as much.

"My point is that I knew you were in love with Maka-chan even then, and living with you guys only made it more obvious. And it wasn't long before Bu-tan could tell Maka-chan loved her scythe-boy back, and I thought for sure my two little kittens would get together before long. And then? You didn't. But Bu-tan thought that was just because there was so much going on with Crona and Asura and making you a death scythe. Then, Crona was gone and Asura was defeated and here you are, still not together. It's… ridiculous!" She almost screeched that part. "How can you two feel that way and never share it? Never be together? Bu-tan knows love and you two love each other. Bu-tan knows sex, and you two want each other. Bu-tan wants her kittens to be happy together. Don't you want to be together?"

"What the hell, Blair? How is this any of your damned business?" He stood up and loomed over her. He was seething, tired of the world thinking his love life had anything to do with them. Why was everyone so concerned about this? What the hell could it possibly matter to them? Why couldn't they just leave it the fuck alone? The cat had sighed at that, and in a puff of smoke, she was beneath him in her human form to be better able to meet his gaze. She patted the cushion next to her, the one he had only just vacated, in invitation, and he deflated, sinking back into it. He was more pissed at himself and the whole fucked up situation than anything. It wasn't fair to take it out on her and he knew it.

"It's my business because Bu-tan cares about Maka-chan and Soul-kun," she said softly. "Bu-tan wants to see her kittens happy, and it seems like Maka-chan will never cross that line. She's too afraid." Blair looked sad and he was floored; the playful cat was never sad. "Bu-tan couldn't talk to Maka-chan because she would never listen, and I kept hoping Soul-kun would do something, but he never did. So then, Bu-tan thought Soul-kun might listen, so here we are. Because Maka-chan and scythe-boy don't get nine lives like Bu-tan does. Maka-chan and scythe-boy only get one, and they face danger every day. I just don't want to see my kittens lose their chance."

Soul sat there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a few seconds. For this to come from Blair—Blair of all people. Just… what the hell?

"Why…now?" he managed finally.

The cat woman shrugged. "Bu-tan meant to for awhile, but I needed Maka-chan to be away. It was the first time for a long time Maka-chan was out, Bu-tan wasn't working, and Soul-kun was home."

"Oh," was all he managed. His head was spinning. It wasn't like he didn't want to do something, 'cause he did. He just didn't want to die or piss Maka off so badly she pushed him away. But Blair was right. They fought kishin daily; they could die tomorrow and they both damned well knew it. It was stupid, really fucking stupid, to keep up this song and dance, this ridiculous charade that they'd both maintained for far too long. Carpe fucking diem—he was going to grab onto this and not let it go if it killed them both. Wait, carpe diem? Shit, Maka's nerdiness really was rubbing off on him. Well, so be it. He loved that about her, how damned smart she was. If his cool rubbed off on her, and her nerd rubbed off on him, weren't they both better for it? That was why they were so cool together. Plus rubbing together was sort of what he was aiming for…

"Alright," he finally shrugged, forcing himself to focus. He definitely wanted to keep this low key. Blair blinked at him.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Maka. Happy?"

"YEEEESSS!" she squealed and hugged him, smooshing his face into her ample assets. He took it stoically, because he had way too much else to think about, like how to do this without getting brained to death.

In the end, he had reasoned that there was no good way to ensure he wouldn't get chopped to oblivion. So he decided to just go for it. That's what cool guys did, wasn't it? They went for it?

He waited until the following afternoon. Maka insisted on periodic extra training on Sundays—"to keep us sharp," as she put it—so they were at school, and since they were the only two idiots stupid enough to be training on a Sunday (even Black*Star had the sense to limit his workouts to home on the weekend,) they pretty much had the place to themselves. They had just finished eating lunch, some sandwiches packed from home, and were sitting on their favorite balcony at the edge of the training grounds, the one that overlooked the city. Both had been quiet for some minutes, Maka thinking about Shinigami knew what, and Soul silently fretting over what he planned to do. Finally, he steeled himself and took the plunge; it was better to just jump in and get it the fuck over with. So he grabbed her hand, forcing her attention, and as she looked at him, questioning.

"Soul?"

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Well, that wasn't exactly what he'd meant to say. Shit. Her face shifted from confusion to something approaching despair, and he knew he had to keep going. "All this ignoring how we feel bullshit, I've had enough. So here it is, on the table: I love you. I love you, and I think we should be together, maybe try dating like regular people, if you'd be cool with that. Because I would." Not the most elegant execution, certainly not what he had rehearsed in his head a few dozen times, but it got the point across. And now came the wait. Her body went rigid, her hand in his stiff, and her face was a blank mask, but he could feel the emotions, the confusion, swirling within her through the link they always shared. He damned well knew this wasn't going to be easy, not by a long way, but like a Band-Aid that had been on just that bit too long, it was better to rip it away in one stroke lest everything keep festering. He couldn't keep the worry and hope and other mix of emotions off his face, but it hardly matter; they were linked. She knew what he was feeling.

Her internal battle continued. He couldn't read her mind, they weren't resonating, but he could feel her emotions swing from one extreme to the other, her fear and frustration at war with other, deeper feelings. He hoped those feelings, Maka's feelings for him that he had begun to recognize some time ago through their connection, would win, because the thought of the alternative was frightening. The idea of her leaving or of their bond breaking over him pushing this when she wasn't ready fucking killed him and part of him began to back pedal, to question. Why had he listened to that damned cat again? He pushed the doubt away; it could do no good, now. He needed to sit through this, to wait, to be his meister's rock even as he had caused the storm she weathered if they were going to make it to shore. Soul squeezed her hand reassuringly, just to let her know he was still here, that we would always be right here because that was where he belonged.

The silence stretched into minutes that felt like hours, her gloved hand hot and still in his own, their linked hands a lifeline for them both. Then finally, finally she spoke.

"What did you say?" He couldn't keep the annoyance from flashing onto his face. He had bared his heart and this was what she had to say? He let out a loud breath of frustration, his free hand raking through his hair agitation, and then forced himself to calm. At least she wasn't screaming or running or braining him with a book. This was progress, at least where Maka was concerned.

"I said I love you, Maka. And that I'd like us to try dating, if you'll let us. It would be cool. We're already cool together, right?"

She sighed in response and he struggled to keep his face neutral, fear inching up his spine and spreading into his stomach.

"That's what I thought you said."

She was silent again, face still a line of thought. She wouldn't meet his eyes and he wasn't sure he wanted to meet hers. The fear spread, from his now churning stomach, down his legs, up his arms, to his fingertips, to his very toes. He felt like he might be sick, like he might lose the contents of his lunch over the Death City skyline. He had to stay calm. This was Maka. Maka overthought everything when it came to him and to them. This didn't mean anything, not yet. It would be okay. It would. And then he felt the shift that he hadn't paid mind to, too wrapped in his own momentary fear, the turn in the tide of her emotions, and the sickness was replaced by hope, welling from his stomach in a pleasant wave. Then she nodded, slowly, deliberately.

"Alright." It was quiet, almost inaudible.

The relief, the sheer elation he felt was almost palpable in the air between them. "Cool."

He knew what it must have cost her to come to this, the internal demons she had needed to exorcise, had known when he began. This agreement, quiet and simple as it was, meant everything. Maka would give this a chance. She loved him enough to give him a chance, to give them a chance. For Soul, that was more than enough, because she was long since his fucking world. He squeezed her hand, a massive, shit eating grin plastering his face. He couldn't help it. He wasn't dead and, unless he was entirely reading things the wrong way, his meister had just agreed to become his girlfriend. It was a paltry title compared to what she meant to him, what they meant to each other, but it would do for now.

Soul was surprised when she leaned into him, and his arms responded automatically, snaking around her to draw her close, her arms snaking around him in response. As he held her, as he felt her content, her hope, her love through their connection, he knew he'd done the right thing, that this was going to be okay, that Maka had faced down her fears and won. It didn't mean the path would be smooth, but hell, when was it ever? Soul's heart soared and he ventured a kiss on the top of her head, looking forward to a time very soon when he could venture further, to her mouth and beyond, because he wasn't going anywhere, and now he was certain, entirely certain, that neither was she.