She casts the spell a month after her mother leaves and her papa already has a new girlfriend. And then another the next week. And a new one for the weekend after that.
She casts the spell so she will never make the mistake that her mother did. She will never fall in love.
She casts the spell wishing that the man she will fall in love with will have hair like a star, and shark teeth. That he will have red eyes like wine and be loyal to those that he loves. That he will be a musician but hate music. That he will be the worst and the best all at once. That is the man she will fall in love with, but it will never happen because a man like that will never exist.
Maka is twelve, and very pleased with never having to worry about falling in love.
Maka is twenty-five when he slouches, and grumbles, and glares his way into her life. His name is Soul Evans and he just moved to the area to get away. He swears the only reason he's in the little town library is because it also happens to be the only place that has coffee since he hasn't been able to buy a coffee maker yet.
Books aren't cool, he says.
He's the worst, she decides.
Except, he comes in every morning on his way to work to get a coffee, grumbling about being late and the coffee maker he wanted being back ordered. Maka has given up and simply pours the large hot black coffee whenever she sees his strange silver hair through the window. On Fridays he orders a mocha to celebrate the end of the week, which makes him a little more pleasant in her eyes.
It's when he starts to come in on weekends, before the rush of brunch customers and late risers that they really get a chance to talk. The cafe is quiet as is the bookstore, so they sit at one of the tiny wrought iron tables Maka had salvaged, bumping knees and elbows, and speak quietly.
He's easy to talk to in a way she never thought she would find in a man, she's never really trusted them. Soul always listens to her so intently when she talks, watching her with those incredible red eyes. She realizes that he grins with his mouth, showing off dangerously sharp teeth, but he smiles with his eyes.
They build a trust and friendship during the early hours that eventually spills over into the evenings and late night because they find there isn't enough time for them. He makes her dinner on Friday nights. She doesn't charge him for the mochas anymore.
"I was running from my career," he tells her one day while waiting for the pasta water to boil. She pours more wine in both their glasses. "I had an opportunity to tour with my older brother. Duets. Solos. Some of the biggest stages in the world." There is a fine tremor in his hand when he sips at the wine.
"So you found yourself here."
"Yeah, tried to get as far away from it as a I could." Soul laughs, short and dry, and grins at her. "Except, you have a fucking piano in your god damn store!"
Maka laughs too.
"You kept coming back, despite the piano. Our coffee must be really good."
"It wasn't the coffee, Maka."
She kisses him and doesn't stop until the water boils over.
It hits her the next morning when they are lying in bed together naked that he exists and her heart is whispering that she loves him, that she cast the spell that said that she would love him.
His has eyes like wine, hair like a star, and shark teeth that make her tingle when she thinks about them. He is the best and the worst thing that has ever happened to her. And she has fallen in love with him.
As if he can sense her distress, Soul opens his eyes, still groggy with sleep and asks what's wrong.
"When I was twelve, I cast a spell, Soul. I cast a spell so that I would never fall in love because I thought the man didn't exist. Except, you do. And now I don't know if this is real, or just because of some stupid wish that I made that I thought would never come true! It isn't fair to you, because you were called here and this can't be real." She gathers her clothing, pulling it on as fast as she can, half blinded by tears before he can even vault out of his bed to try and catch her.
"Maka! Maka wait!" He manages to stop her in the hallway just before the door, "Don't you think I wished for you too?"
She has never seen his eyes more desperate. He is loyal to those he loves, she remembers and it hurts to see him in so much pain. Gently, so gently, he pulls her against his chest to hug her, whispering it over and over again that he wished just as hard. That it is real. And that it will always be real.
Their hearts stop racing, and with each kiss to her hair, her forehead, her temple, her fears vanish. This is Soul. This is the only man she can imagine letting herself love, but also the only man who deserves to be loved by her.
He is the best, she decides. And finally stands up on her tip toes to kiss him.