Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, but I do lay claim to the universe this story happens in.

Prompt #17: Truth - He can't keep denying it when the facts are staring him in the face.

Words: 712

Sometimes his curiosity was more of a curse than his albinism.

Sitting on the couch with his favorite jazz record playing in the background, Soul stared at the folded piece of looseleaf paper lying on the coffee table, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He'd already read its content three times, and he was still trying to understand why it was affecting him so much.

Time to backtrack. Maka had come home from school that day with flushed cheeks and a giggle escaping her throat every other minute, reading the very same piece of paper Soul was now staring at. When questioned, she only said that she'd found the paper in her locker that afternoon and she'd be going out tonight, don't wait up for her. She'd gone into her room and emerged an hour later in an outfit that Soul had never seen her wear before, shorts and a tanktop with an off-the-shoulder sweater that bared her stomach and legs down to the tops of her ankle boots. Her hair had been nicely curled and pinned back, and she'd grabbed the stylish purse Liz had made her buy for "dating purposes" almost a month ago.

No sooner had the front door shut then Soul found himself rooting through Maka's desk for that paper. It wasn't hard to find; her eagerness to be off meant that she hadn't hidden the paper as well as she usually did. He'd read it over once, and an irrational anger settled in the pit of his stomach. Reading it again hadn't helped.

Maka Albarn, I like you.

Wanna go out for coffee after school? I'll be at the Starbucks on Garrote and Sickle until 6:30 PM today. Hope to see you there,
Rupert Langer

Soul recognized the name. Rupert Langer was a junior in Maka's AP Chemistry class. He was pretty cool for a geek, and a few other guys described him as a decent sort of guy. The fact that he'd asked out Maka with this sort of request said he had some balls, leading with a declaration of feelings and following up with a coffee date and hope that she'd go. What a bait-and-guilt approach...

Stop being a bitch, said his conscience. You're just mad that he asked her out before you could man up and do the same.

He angrily shook his head to shut it up. He and Maka were still getting used to being roommates, not to mention she was still coming off her major I-hate-all-men thought train. Besides, he didn't think of her that way.

Now you're gonna lie to yourself? So uncool, his conscience jeered.

Steepling his fingers, Soul rested his chin on his clasped hands and blew out an irritated breath. Okay, maybe he did think of her that way, but he wasn't about to risk their friendship on something that wasn't a sure thing. He liked being friends with Maka. He enjoyed the way they interacted and the way they accepted each other's quirks and secrets. He liked just being her friend.

That is such a load of -

"Ah, dammit!" Soul said, scrubbing his face angrily. He got to his feet and took off his jazz record, putting it back in its sleeve with more care than he usually gave the task. He then returned to the couch and flopped back on his spot, now even more angry. Why did he have to be such a curious person? If he hadn't gone poking, he would've never found the note, then he wouldn't be acting like an idiot thinking of things he shouldn't be thinking of. Like how happy Maka looked heading out for her date. How much fun she was probably having with Langer.

"It's not cool. It's not cool. She's just a friend," he said.

His conscience snickered. Jealous much?

"She's just my roommate. She's just my friend."

If lies made your nose grow, you'd give Pinocchio a run for his money. Isn't lying an uncool thing?

Sometimes it really annoyed him, that little voice.

Another Rain-Soaked Tears story for you all. Sorry for the delay!

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