"It's pretty on you."
"Huh?"
She stared at him leaning on the door, her hands half up to fasten a bit of ribbon around her hair. For a moment, she wondered what he could be talking about until she looked down and remembered.
Oh yeah.
Laundry day.
Maka must've given him a strange look, because he immediately retracted his gaze to glance at some corner instead.
"No really. I've just never seen you in…not all-black?"
She finished tying a knot before opening her jaw, carefully mulling over her next words.
"Thank you. You're right, I don't really wear white often. Kind of goes against the whole image."
"Image?"
Maka may or may not have noticed him casually making his way over to her bed. HIS. His old bed. She was just a guest here, lest she forget that.
Regardless of the bed's true ownership, it was being occupied by one Soul Eater Evans.
What were they talking about again? Oh, right…
"You know, being a witch has certain connotations that one has to uphold in order to maintain their status as a magic user." She puffed out her chest, a bit wary of where to sit now that the bed was taken.
As if he could read her thoughts, he patted an empty comforter corner next to him. Inviting.
Maka was nothing if not polite.
She sat down.
"Really? Stuff like what?"
"You're quite curious today."
He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, as if staring long enough at it would fix all his problems. "It's a cold, slow day. Nothing really to do around here."
She takes his answer and breathes out a sigh.
"Like, the whole broom and witch hat and dark clothing thing. It helps with the authority of being a witch, you know? If you went to someone for a potion to treat their chronic back pain or some little curse to put on your neighbor and they were dressed up in pink froo-froo and daisy chains you wouldn't trust them with a hint of copper. People want to see what they…expect."
Silence. And then…
"…You know how to cast curses?"
She smiled back, all teeth. "I do, want to try it out?"
One glimpse of his astounded expression and she was a fit of giggles. He joined her thereafter, his low brush of chuckles doing strange warm things in the pit of her stomach.
"Y'know, I think white really does some good for you." He let his fingers wander to the hem of her skirt, nearly brushing against the side of her knee.
Nearly.
She watched as his dark ruby eyes kept staring at the fabric, deep in thought. Entranced, almost.
(But she couldn't let herself think like that. Wouldn't.)
Soul continued. "Brings out a lighter side of you."
She ignored her heart thumping and snatched her hem out of his hands. "Well, sorry for being broody. Witch." She emphasized, letting the word hiss through her teeth.
He looked back into her eyes. Red on green.
"Yeah, and I'm a farmer. But right now, you're also Maka and I'm just Soul, and I think that's more important anyway."
And he left her room like that, leaving her more confused than ever.
