A/N: Hey guys! I know I sound like a broken record but, would you forgive me if again I said I was sorry for taking so long to write another?
This ones long so maybe that'll help.
Forgive meee! With the manga ending and everything sadness abounds.
I hope people still care about Soul and Maka, I know I still do!
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Recurrence
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"Okay. Yep. Sure. No, no it's fine." Maka stared down at the kitchen table in front of her, tapping her fingers against the hardwood, her cell phone clutched in her hand.
"No," she faked a laugh, "Yeah mom, I'll be there," She hadn't realised how hard she was holding the phone until her knuckles started hurting,
Stop gritting your teeth. Stop gritting your teeth.
"Congratulations mom," She finally said, her throat tightening. Her mother chatted away happily on the other end, telling her details of things she couldn't care less about.
Soul stuck his head around the corner from the hallway, holding two ties: red and black. He held them up and made a face. Maka shook her head,
"Which one," he mouthed, putting one to his neck, over his grey pullover, and then switching to the other. She waved him away, mouthing a:
"Not now," back at him. She turned her body away from him and brought her free hand to cover her ear.
"Yeah I'm still listening, it sounds great,"
He sighed, clearly exasperated before going back to the bathroom mirror to struggle alone.
"Oh, that's okay. No, no really I don't know what I'd even say to him. I'll meet him when I come down," She just wanted this moment to end. However she was supposed to feel, this wasn't it. Her mother was telling her loads of information she knew she'd forget, but no matter how much she told herself to focus it just wasn't going to happen.
This was really out of left field.
"Tell him I say congratulations too. And that I'm… I'm really excited to meet him." She swallowed hard when her mother erupted in childlike giggles. Was this even the same woman?
Maka said a few curt goodbyes, trying her hardest to sound excited and hung up the phone.
There was a moment of stillness in the room before Maka's hand slammed down hard against the table, letting her cell phone sit unceremoniously in front of her. She slumped further down into the chair she was sitting in. She heard Soul in the bathroom, whatever he was noisily doing coming to an abrupt stop. She crossed her arms over her stomach and set her face into a perfect scowl.
There were a lot of things Kami Albarn wasn't. She wasn't the best mother, she wasn't the best wife, she wasn't a necessarily warm person, she wasn't nurturing, she wasn't present, and she wasn't sentimental. But everyone, everyone knew if there was one thing Kami was: it was responsible. She had a good head on her shoulders, she thought through situations thoroughly before acting. She was clever.
These were traits that made her a good Meister; traits that Maka had inherited.
So Maka always knew what and why when it came to her mother. She understood when Kami did something. Maka always understood because her mother was like her and Maka didn't do childish irresponsible things and that was it.
So…
What in Death's name was her mother doing?
Maka hadn't even known her mother was seeing someone let alone planning on marrying someone.
It was clearly an impulse, she could tell from the way Kami spoke about the man. Puppy love. Not something to build a lifetime around.
Maka's stomach tightened as she realized maybe she didn't know her mother quite like she thought she did. Maybe her marriage to her father had been just as impulsive. Maybe that's why it was so easy for her to pack up and leave, regardless of any child.
And now, her mother wanted her to get on a goddamn plane to go to her goddamn tropical wedding on her goddamn island with her goddamn fiancé.
She was starting to sound like an angry Black Star.
Maka stood up briskly, her chair scraping backwards loudly on the linoleum.
She walked briskly around the corner, headed toward her bedroom. She stopped abruptly when she saw Soul, leaning against the wall.
She froze for a minute before sighing, about to walk past him. His hand caught her forearm lightly and she stopped, standing beside him, neither of them looking at each other.
"What happened," He muttered huskily.
She just shook her head.
"You're upset," He said, bowing his head a little towards her.
"It's just stupid." She sighed, pulling her arm from his grasp.
She wasn't going to cry. She definitely wasn't going to cry because she was better than that. The whole thing was stupid and she wasn't going to cheapen herself by crying about it because it wasn't even worth tears.
Her eyes started to well up. Betrayed again by overly passionate tear ducts.
Soul shook his head at her,
"You know, this is normally the part where I ask whose ass I get to kick, but seeing as it was your mother on the phone, I don't think that would do me any good,"
She hiccupped a small laugh as a tear spilled down her cheek.
"Yeah. So. This will have to do." He muttered as he closed the space between them, lightly wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his other arm cradling her head into his chest.
It was too much. She was too upset and having someone, especially him, offer her the opportunity to let it out, broke the floodgates open. She was frozen for only a moment before she buried her face into his sweater and started crying.
He didn't even know what had happened, but if it was like this he knew it was something bad. Kami was a touchy issue with Maka anyway, but when push came to shove, he knew his meister was more bark than bite about her family issues.
Her arms wrapped around his torso, her hands knotting into the back of his sweater.
She didn't trust men: that much she wore on her sleeve, but her feelings of abandonment and distrust about any figure that was supposed to care about her were more deep seeded and, as Soul knew all too well, deteriorated her tough, 'no bullshit' act in a manner of seconds.
So yeah, it was bad and it sucked and she was crying and he hated it.
It pissed him off, frankly.
Because why would anyone want to fuck off and leave this stupid, beautiful, perfect girl in the first place, and why would that same person want to continually ruin any good thing she had going for her?
Kami could suck a dick in his opinion.
He leaned his head onto hers as her sobs lessened. He could feel her warm tears soaking through his sweater and onto his collar. He didn't mind. In fact, quite the opposite.
"Okay," He hummed softly, untangling her from him a little and slowly moving her arms to around his neck. She complied easily, her usual pride and stubbornness replaced by grateful compliance.
She leaned her head against the crook of his neck as he lifted her gently off the ground, pushing the door to her room open with a soft kick. He sat down on her bed, letting her sniffle on his lap for a little while longer before slowly moving the two of them into a horizontal position.
He lay on his side, one arm propped on his elbow, leaning his head on it as he watched her lying in front of him. Their feet tangled together, his other arm was draped over her waist in a way she wouldn't know was protective.
It was little sobs and small voices from her now as she focused on his chest still, her head on the soft, pink pillow. She would every so often lean her head forward and nuzzle him slightly.
"So, you had no idea about this guy?"
She shook her head,
"No," she closed her eyes lightly, "I just…" She took a deep breath and he felt his eyebrows knit together,
"Yeah?" He encouraged,
"I just kind of… feel like she leaving all over again," She sighed, opening her eyes to look up at her weapon. They were red and puffy and it was this horrible guttural feeling whenever she looked at him like that.
"So let her," he muttered, "You don't need her Maka, you didn't back then and you don't now either."
She nodded slightly,
"I thought that maybe now… Now that you're a death scythe, now that I'm as good as her… I thought that maybe that would be enough for her," Another hot tear fell down her cheek, "I thought maybe now she could be what I wanted her to be when I was a kid,"
He couldn't beat up a woman, he couldn't beat up Maka's mom but dear fucking god did he have some words for her if he ever saw her again.
"She'll never be that for one simple reason: she sucks. She doesn't know how lucky she is. Listen to me,"
He moved his hand from her waist to lift her chin slightly,
"Believe every word I say when I tell you that it's her fucking loss."
Despite herself, Maka blushed.
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So this is what precipitated Soul Eater Evans to be standing in this too-big ball room in his too-tight tie with his too-uptight meister clung to his arm.
They had managed to sneak into the ceremony last minute, snagging a seat in the back without so much time as to greet the people sitting beside them. Maka really didn't want to talk to her mother. She had had her usual reaction to anything that caused her intense emotional pain: after sadness came fiery anger. So that meant the small fireball of a girl had planned everything to an overthought T. She made sure they hadn't even set food in the same country as her mother until late the night before the actual wedding.
Despite her anger over the whole thing, Maka was a good person, and an undeservedly good daughter. She wouldn't miss her mother's wedding, no matter how impulsive it all seemed, and no matter how much it hurt Maka.
And because Soul had to watch the whole thing eat the girl from the inside out, he was in an unusually foul mood.
The ceremony was probably, in all actuality, short. Soul would remember it as some of the longest 20 minutes of his life. The entire thing was spent watching Maka from the corner of his eye as she squirmed uncomfortably in the pew, as she tried to subtly look away when the couple kissed, as she pretended to be too intently focused on getting her purse and coat to look her mother in the eye when she walked up the aisle and out the churches doors.
In short, it was the epitome of "too much" and Soul couldn't wait till he was back home, playing video games with Maka's legs in his lap as she read happily on the couch beside him. She'd look up at him; he'd look over for a second, just fast enough to catch her flashing him one of her most beautiful smiles before ducking her head back into her book.
Maybe it was a bad time to decide he was in love with her.
Maybe he shouldn't tell her that quite yet.
Maybe when they were home or maybe a few years from now or maybe never.
He wasn't sure. But what he was sure about was that everything they ever did now screamed to him about his unspoken affections for the girl, and this whole wedding ordeal was no exception: in fact, it had the opposite effect. Being angry all the time at everyone who made Maka's grip on his arm tighten was exhausting in a way that made it all worth it.
The two now stood in the corner of a large ballroom; the reception had gotten started shortly after the ceremony. The guests were now eagerly awaiting the bride and groom to join the festivities, so naturally, Maka had subtly hinted at them hiding in the corner, which they now were doing. Soul had guzzled his first beer upon arrival, and now held another in his hand lightly.
He was suddenly thankful for all the forced parties and formal family events he was made to go to throughout most of his young life. A little part of him was happy it wasn't his family hosting this; a bigger part empathised with Maka for being in that situation.
His hand absently made its way to the small of the girls back as he leaned down,
"Want me to fake sick," He muttered, "And we can get outta here?" He smirked and raised an eyebrow. He saw the corners of her mouth twitch up before she rolled her eyes,
"You know I'd love that, but…" She chewed on her lip,
"But you're too much of a good person. Let me tell you something kid—"
Maka shot him a look, she hated when he called her that,
"Er… Maka." He recovered, grinning guiltily, "Fuck all these people,"
"I don't want STD's." She muttered. He laughed outright; the petulant girl's attitude was his favorite. Well, it was his favorite when it wasn't directed at him.
Just as Soul went to take another swig from his beer, the MC got everyone's attention as the doors of the room burst open in a flurry of music and party poppers. Maka's mother and her new husband glided through the doors, laughing and waving happily.
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Maka hated to admit it, but her mother looked beautiful. She was elegant in a way Maka was sure she would never grow into being. Her father would dote about how much she looked like her mother but she knew it wasn't true. Although older and more developed, the stark difference was her astonishingly boyish… assets… Maka settled on. She was no Tsubaki, and she was no Kami.
Not that she minded much anymore, but it was just another thing to feel mopey about which, at this time, was all Maka wanted to feel. She was miserable. She wanted the whole room to be miserable with her which brought annoying truth to the statement her entire lifestyle seemed to embrace.
"Misery loves company," Maka breathed to herself.
"Want me to kill someone's cat for you or..?" Soul didn't look down at her as he took another drink from the bottle,
"Please." She hissed. He smiled, turning towards her. She was watching her mother gush to a small crowd of people Maka didn't recognise: she could see from their wavelengths that they were pairs of weapons and meisters,
"Are those death scythes?" She asked Soul, pointing to the crowd,
"Naw," he said, "We'd know them if they were. Just older Meisters and shit, probably graduated with your mom," He shrugged,
Maka considered it briefly. They were her school friends, probably. She wondered if she got married at a random time to a random guy she had randomly met if Black Star and Kidd and Tsubaki and the Thompsons would all show up. Would she stand in front of them, blushing and laughing and twirling around in her big stupid dress? Would Oxford shake his head and say something rude? Would they all pretend to be nice?
She blinked the idea away because she knew it would never happen. Her whole life she had thought of her mother as the same as her. She wasn't her father, so of course she was her mother. Kami Albarn, through and through. Professors had said it to her, Lord Death himself had told her countless times she reminded him of her mother but now…
It wasn't true. It wasn't true at all.
She turned to Soul,
"That's not me," she said pointing to her mother. To her surprise, she didn't get a sarcastic comment. He didn't even laugh,
"No," he said seriously, "No it's not."
She was slightly taken aback for a moment, not expecting him to so quickly understand her. She pressed on,
"No I mean, I'm not like that,"
"Yeah I know that's what you mean," now he smiled slightly, his voice still serious, "You're not Kami, I never thought you were."
She opened her mouth to say something, but her words were cut off by a very… Spirit Albarn like noise.
It was her mother, crooning her name from across the room as she ran towards her.
"MAAAKAAAA!" Her mother giggled. Maka froze, stiff as a board as every eye in the room seemed to turn towards her. Kami approached the girl and pulled her in to a tight embrace. Soul stepped to the side and regarded the pair, a polite smile on his face.
"Baby!" Kami said, squeezing her daughter tightly,
"Mom," Maka breathed in return,
"I'm so glad you're here!" She released her and Maka stumbled a little, catching herself slightly, "I was worried I wouldn't see you," She frowned,
"Of course I'm here," She tried desperately to sound cheery, "I wouldn't miss it for the world,"
Her mother beamed at her before turning towards Soul,
"So… Is this him?" She said slowly,
"Oh," Maka flushed for a moment, her head spinning, "Yeah, sorry, this is Soul, my uh—"
"Weapon," Soul finished, outstretching a hand to Kami, "Pleasure to meet you,"
Kami took his hand gingerly and shook it, her expression changing slightly,
"Soul right? Maka tells me you're a Scythe weapon," She said, her words sounding thicker,
"That's right," He replied, not missing the change in the woman's expression,
"My first weapon was a Scythe, did you know that?"
Soul snorted a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yeah, I knew that. Sprit Albarn. You made him a Death Scythe."
"Youngest Meister to ever do it too!" She beamed proudly,
"Um…" Maka squeaked, "Actually…"
"Actually that's Maka." Soul interjected, a smug look on his face. Kami looked stunned,
"Pardon me?" She turned to her daughter
"Well, yeah. I told you I had made Soul a Death Scythe. That was about a year ago and I guess when you made dad—"
"Spirit." Kami interrupted her,
"Er, right. When you made Spirit a Death Scythe you were five years older than me." Maka looked down nervously. When she looked back up to her mother's expression, it was cold.
"Not that it matters!" Maka put her hands up in front of her, "I mean, everyone knows you're the most—"
Kami's face burst into a grin,
"Of course it matters!" She took her daughters hands, "You're so amazing! Like mother like daughter. Everyone knows you're just like me," She beamed down at her, "I'm so proud of you!"
Maka didn't know what she was feeling. It was strange, because that was what she had always wanted her mother to say. It felt wrong all over. She had told her mother all this before, was she just not listening? Maka always thought she was a calm and thoughtful woman, much like herself. When Kami had little to no reaction to it, it wasn't because of indifference, Maka had told herself, it was because she was quietly contemplating whatever it was. She felt pride for her daughter, but she held it in.
Or… Not. As Maka noted as her mother grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from Soul. Kami started talking quickly to a nearby friend of hers about how amazing her little girl was and how she had "good genes" to thank for it. She didn't miss throwing in a few hateful comments about Spirit however.
So. This was it. This is what her night was going to be. Maka resigned to it. She wasn't getting out of being toted around like an accessory and by the time she had met, as her mother had introduced him, her new "Dad" Maka had made a decision.
She was going to drink, and drink a lot.
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Anyone who knew Maka knew she didn't drink. She didn't drink for a lot of reasons. Soul knew these reasons better than anyone because he got to get the list of reasons every morning after his drunken binges. Not that he'd had one in a while; it seemed a little juvenile now.
But the point was: she didn't drink.
"It makes everyone act like complete idiots," she'd lecture, "You're sick in the morning, you forget the night you just had, you do things and say things you'd never mean and it's not even a little bit worth it," she'd almost always nod her head at that point, trying to drive the speech home.
It was cute.
What Soul was looking at now, wasn't as cute.
He had lost track of the girl when Kami pulled her away. He felt guilty for leaving her side, but it was something she really did have to sort out with her mother.
He regretted it right now.
There she was, slumped over a white clothed table, sitting in a chair. She had been discarded by her mother apparently, who was dancing on the tiled floor with a group of her friends. The whole thing would probably have been easier handled if he himself hadn't had a few to drink as well.
The young man beside her had his head close to hers and seemed to be whispering something into her ear. Maka sat up abruptly,
"You want to go where?" She slurred, leaning in towards the dark haired boy. The boy laughed and reached up to touch one of her pig tails. Soul's stomach tightened. He took a sure step forward as he watched Maka's eyes lazily wander to the boys hand on her hair, her expression confused.
Soul was about to interject, rudely and fiercely to the asshole who was trying to take advantage of her when Maka's expression snapped to fury,
"DO NOT TOUCH ME," she roared drunkenly, standing with a large sway and trying to swat at the boy but instead sending empty shot glasses shattering across the table. The boy leapt back and Soul moved quickly towards Maka, catching her hand by the wrist quickly. She struggled against him, still staring at the dark haired boy in front of her.
"Let go of me I want to find Soul!" She seemed to cry like a lost kitten, "Where's Soul!" He could see tears welling up in her eyes as he turned her into him,
"Shh! Maka it's okay!" He soothed, holding her against him firmly, "It's me! It's me." She calmed for a moment and sucked in a deep breath, her eyes focusing on him,
"Soul?" She squeaked,
"Yeah, idiot." he said down to her. She blinked up at him a few times before burying in her face in his chest,
"I want to go home," He heard her mumble into the fabric of his dark dress shirt,
"Yeah me too," He replied, rolling his eyes.
"Hey buddy!" The dark haired boy spoke, "She's with me!"
Soul raised his eyebrows, trying his best not to laugh loudly,
"Yeah," He chuckled, "Clearly."
"She is! I'll take her home." He approached the couple and Soul's expression hardened; he moved Maka on to his arm, but she ducked behind him.
"Fucking try it," Soul drawled, his red eyes flaring, although sounding nonchalant, his words came out with as much venom as he thought they might, "There are few things that would make me happier right now than kicking someone's ass, so please," He held his arms out, "Try to 'take her home',"
The boy paused for a moment,
"You're not so tough," he said quietly.
He hardly meant to, but Soul just did not want to deal with this. He was a little tipsy, the day was a little too long and he was pissed off. Actually, he was furious. Everything had finally worn on him too much. He felt his forearms slip into scythe blades with a quick flash of light. The boy stumbled over himself, startled,
"A Scythe Weapon?!" He exclaimed, "Oh fucking shit," The boy stammered, "You're not… are you…? Soul Eater?"
Soul's face cracked into a threatening grin, feeling his eyes widen. He was about to hiss something terrible at the boy when he felt a tug on the back of his shirt,
"Soul…" he heard a small voice coo. He felt instantly guilty, his Scythes retracting back into his arms. He had hadn't noticed the small crowd now gathered around the three of them. The music was playing but everyone was watching the stupid scene unfolding.
Oops.
He turned around and looked at Maka, she was swaying slightly as she looked up at him with those big doe eyes that always melted his stupid heart.
He briefly wondered how much she had to drink before remembering the piles of empty shot glasses at the table she was sitting at when he finally found her.
"If you're going to fight," A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, "Please do it outside," It was Kami's new husband. He wasn't angry or anything, in fact, he seemed a little encouraging. Kami was standing beside him, smiling broadly,
"As long as it's all in good fun," She said, "I'd love to see my little girl in action!"
Soul's mouth fell open as many guests started happily agreeing with one another.
"Uh," he said, looking down again at his obviously inebriated meister, "No I think we're good,"
"Oh come on!" Kami sang, pulling the dark haired boy by the arm, "He's a technician too! You'll have to hold back quite a bit but—"
"No." Soul said firmly, taking Maka's hand, "We're leaving." He started to pull her through the crowd, now expressing disappointment when Kami grabbed Maka's arm,
"Maka," Kami's voice cut through the crowd. Soul felt Maka's hand fall from his own. He turned to see her mother now holding her my the shoulders,
"Mom I…"
"Oh come on, it'll be fun! I never get the chance to see you, you never come visit me! It'll be like a wedding present for your mom, hm?" Kami brushed the hair out of Maka's face briefly as she spoke.
"I don't want to," She replied quietly,
"Oh hush, I would do it if you asked me," Kami was now pulling Maka back to where the dark haired technician was still standing,
"Yeah but…"
Soul pushed through the crowd after the two women, swearing under his breath. Kami stopped and turned toward her daughter once more,
"Maka. Everyone knows you've grown up to be just like me, this is your chance to show everyone how well I've raised you! Now, don't you want to make me happy?"
He was sure that if Maka was sober, this would have played out differently. She would have smiled, maybe nodded, shrugged, gotten out of the situation and beaten herself up about the whole thing later. Or maybe not, because if there was one thing he knew: it was not to push Maka too far. Kami had just pushed her too far.
Maka tore her arm away from her mother's grasp.
"How well you raised me?" Maka hissed, loud enough for the crowd around them to become interested in the scene once more.
"Maka, what—"
"You left, mom!" She shouted, "I haven't seen you in years and that was all your choice!"
"Oh come on honey you know I—"
"You never trained me; you were never there for me and you certainly never tried very hard to make me happy!" She had slightly pushed Kami away from her, the crowd of people now pretending not to be watching the embarrassing situation. Soul on the other hand, was very actively watching it.
"Maka, are you drunk?" Her mother hissed down at her,
"Maybe," She replied, eyes narrowed.
"Oh honey," kami laughed, "A girl after my own heart I—"
"You're wrong." Maka said with startling finality.
"Hm?"
"I'm not like you. I never want to be like you and I've never been more proud to say that," She turned and walked briskly away, her mother called out after her but Maka ignored her and kept walking.
Soul hurried after her, stumbling slightly at her fast pace. He heard Kami laugh awkwardly before shouting about seeing the two of them tomorrow.
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By the time they had made it back to the hotel, Maka had calmed down significantly. Soul wasn't really sure if she even remembered anything happening.
After fumbling with the keycard for a few seconds, he finally got the hotel room door opened. Maka was leaning against the wall, staring up at the light fixtures, her head lolling from side to side slightly. He paused for a moment and sighed before extending his hand,
"Come on drunkie," he said, "Let's go to bed,"
To his absolute surprise, her face lit up.
"Okay!" she sang, raising one eyebrow. She dashed past him into the room, a new sort of energy to her as she grabbed his hand and pulled him after her. The jerk of the impact made him trip slightly, almost falling flat on his face, but regaining his footing enough just in time for her to fall onto the bed, and pull him on top of her.
"Fucking hell woman," he said, moving to get off of her, "Be careful!"
She snaked her arms around his neck quickly, preventing him from removing himself from her.
"Noo," she said, grinning stupidly, "Stay here,"
He paused for a moment, giving her a confused look,
"I need to close the door, pigtails."
She huffed and let go, giving him the chance to climb off of her and do just that. He locked it before leaning his head against it. As if the night wasn't long enough already.
"I hate it when you call me that," he heard a small voice behind him say. He turned and found her sitting on the bed, arms crossed, dress splayed around her legs which were folded under her,
"Yeah I know," he smirked, "that's why I do it, right?"
She pouted and looked away grumpily,
"And to think I was gonna thank you for saving me," She grumbled.
He laughed lightly, taking off his suit jacket and kicking off his shoes in one quick motion before lazily falling onto the bed beside her. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned towards her,
"I saved you?" he raised his eyebrows, "I seem to remember you saving you. And rather eloquently I might add for someone in your state." He reached up, the palm of his hand on her cheek, his fingers slightly in her nape. He felt her face heat up for just a second before her eyes closed and she leaned into his hand, her own coming up and holding his wrist gently. She took a slow, deep breath before sighing happily.
He was surprised to see her like this. She was so… affectionate. She was so beautiful. He was so in love with her.
Her eyes opened and she looked down at him for only a moment before moving quickly towards him, her eyes focused on his mouth.
She was so drunk.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" He said, retracting his hand and grabbing her shoulders, "Stop." He said, holding her back. She squirmed a little before her brows tightened,
"You don't want me to?" She said slowly,
"Uh… No, it's not that," He said, knowing that reasoning with her at this point was pretty much impossible,
"Well then," There was a glint in her expression that Soul know was about it get him into big trouble, a theory that was very quickly confirmed when her drunken mind somehow remembered combat training. She had freed her hands, pushed him down on the bed and had successfully put herself on top of him in only a few seconds.
Despite first struggling against her, he sighed in defeat.
"Come on," he said, trying desperately to ignore the fact that she was straddling him, trying really really hard not to let his mind wander to the other things they could be doing while in this position. Trying RIDICULOUSLY hard to say no to the girl he wanted more than anyone else in the world.
She leaned forward, bringing her face down to meet his, that mischievous look still in her eyes, that stupid sexy little coy smile on her lips.
"Whaat?" She feigned ignorance, her lips gently tracing along his jawline.
Where. The. Fuck. Did she learn to do that from?
"Maka," he said, breathless, feeling his pants tightening against his will, "Stop," he almost pleaded with her, but it seemed only to encourage her.
Suddenly, she pressed her lips against his. Soft and unmoving for a moment, before he couldn't say no to her anymore and his mouth parted ever so slightly. She deepened the kiss, their mouths moving with a growing ferocity as Soul suddenly sat up, her hands knotting in his hair as she straddled his lap, him holding her lower back, pulling her closer and closer into him. Their breathing loud and heavy, she separated for only a moment to pant:
"I love you,"
There were a lot of things Soul really, really wanted. He wished he was more sober. He wished he had a stronger will. He wished that she wasn't drunk at all even a little and that this had happened because oh man as if this was.
He froze, his eyes wide. She went back to his mouth but he stayed unmoving, a statue.
"Stop," he said in between her kissing his unresponsive figure. She ignored him, her hands moving up his arms,
She mumbled something to the effect of: "nuhuhh," before he pushed her off gently,
"STOP,"
It wasn't a shout, but it wasn't exactly nice sounding either. She did though, and looked at him: confused and offended.
"What is wrong with you?" She said, but he didn't respond.
She climbed off of him quickly, getting off the bed and standing to her feet, staring at him accusingly.
"Why are you always so mean!?" she said loudly before pulling her suitcase into the bathroom with her and slamming the door.
His head was in his hands. He groaned and slumped over to his side.
"Fuck." he mumbled.
.
.
.
She had come out of the bathroom in her pajamas, turned off the light and angry fallen into bed, without so much as a glance his way. He felt bad, yeah, but he felt more terrible for letting things get as far as they did.
He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her, he didn't want a stupid drunk flirty night to ruin their friendship and… frankly, his chances of something real like that happening. He knew she would be upset that he had let them get so hot and heavy last night, but he was sure she would forgive him, if she remembered it at all.
Or, he thought that last night.
Because as it stood right now, she hadn't said a word to him all morning. He knew she was hung-over, but when he asked her how she was feeling all she had done was shrug and continue to ignore him. What made things worse was that they were supposed to go meet her mother for breakfast in half an hour.
They were leaving early, as Maka did, so that they wouldn't miss it. He had held the door to the hotel room open for her, but when she walked through while actively avoiding eye contact, he couldn't take it anymore.
"Maka," He said firmly, still holding the door,
"What?" She shot back, snippy.
He paused for a moment, not knowing what to say, guilt filling him.
"Look, about last night, I don't know how much you remember but—"
"It's fine." She said curtly, still not looking at him. She tapped her foot impatiently, "Can we talk about this later or something? We're going to be late,"
"Oh," He said, pausing for a moment, "So… You're not… mad at me?"
"No." she lied,
"Are you upset with your mom?" He tried, he was treading lightly, knowing the volatile mood she was in was just begging for an explosion.
"No, I don't care." She clicked her tongue, "Let's go Soul!"
He sighed, taking a step through the door and letting it close behind him. He was locking it when he heard her make an annoyed sound. It was kinda… getting on his nerves.
"Look," he said turning around, "I'm SORRY okay? I really am! I didn't mean for things to go so far, okay?"
"Whatever. It's fine." She hissed, finally looking him in the eye,
"Okay, clearly it's not." He met her gaze with as much fierceness, "So tell me you're pissed off so I can work on fixing this and making you not hate me for it,"
"I'm not pissed off Soul!" She roared, "I'm embarrassed!"
They were both silent for a moment before he spoke,
"Because you were so drunk or-?"
"No!" She said, "I know you don't care about that." He suddenly noticed her cheeks were pinking, and she was fidgeting uncomfortably,
"Oh. Because of the… uh…" He remembered the way she felt against him: so warm and perfect and right. He wanted to kiss her right then and there. Now that they had, he knew he'd want to every minute for the rest of the time he looked at her.
"Of course," She blushed, "I didn't… I thought… I didn't mean to…"
"Maka, it's fine," He said awkwardly. He didn't really think they'd ever have a conversation like this,
"I mean… I want you know that I—" She exhaled sharply, looking at the ground, biting her lip: she was so uncomfortable.
"You…?" He offered,
"I mean… I wasn't… When I said that I…"
He stared at her expectantly,
"When you said that you… loved me?" He said slowly,
"Y-yeah,"
"Uh, it's fine,"
"No I mean like…"
"Maka, seriously, I know you were drunk, it's fine,"
"No it's just that I uh… you know…"
…
"No not really?"
She sucked in a deep breath and when she finally spoke her words were fast and borderline incomprehensible:
"I kind of really meant it and I love you and I'm sorry you don't feel the same way but I don't want it to come between us and please don't let it and we better be partners for a long time and I'm sorry I finally said it because I just couldn't hold it in I guess and—"
He closed the space between them faster than he knew he could, his mouth crashing down against hers as they hit the wall behind her. Her eyes were wide for only a second before she had her arms snaked around his neck as she kissed him, passionate and confused, and he kissed her back with the same intensity.
They parted finally and she stared up at him,
"Wait I…" She said, biting her lip, "Does this mean…?"
"I'm so fucking in love with you, it wrecks me every goddamn day," He leaned down and kissed her again, pulling her closer to him greedily. She pulled away and he made a disappointed sound in the back of this throat,
"So then last night?"
He exhaled, frustrated,
"You were drunk as fuck. It's not cool to take advantage of girls when they're like that," He looked away. She knew that was his version of shy, although he would never admit it.
She grinned up at him,
"So." She said, playing with his shirt affectionately, "I guess my mom's wedding wasn't so bad,"
He laughed down at her,
"I don't know, it was pretty terrible," He grinned and she laughed loudly, almost jumping into hugging him tightly. They stumbled back slightly, giggling and being stupidly love struck before she raised her eyebrows,
"You know…" She said thoughtfully, "I am pretty hungover," She pursed her lips and he smirked,
"Yes, and?"
"And maybe it would be a good idea for us just to… stay in this morning," She gestured towards the hotel room, "And pick up where we left off last night,"
He didn't even know she could sound so suggestive, but if she was going to start using that tone of voice regularly, he was in for it. Because there was no way in hell he could say no to her.
"Well, I mean, if that's what'll make you feel better," He laughed, playing it cool, but his skin was prickling in anticipation.
She reached into his pocket and retrieved the keycard, opening the door to their room, taking his hand and pulling him in after her,
"Skipping a planned breakfast?" Soul shook his head, kidding, "Kami would never do such a thing,"
"Well," Maka shrugged, looping her fingers into the belt loops of his dark jeans, "Guess it's a good thing I'm not her," She beamed up at him and leaned his forehead down onto hers,
"Wouldn't want it any other way," He paused for a moment before smirking down at her, "Pigtails."
.
.
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A/N Well! I hope you enjoyed!
I write Soul drunk a lot and figured Maka needed a turn.
I still love requests and feedback, like I said earlier, do you guys still care about SoMa?
You'll be hearing more from me. I promise!