Neither of them really slept but Ms. Perfect Attendance did shake him at 6 AM, no alarm necessary since she had been watching each tick of the clock over his shoulder. That was when he finally relaxed his hand, slipping out from between her fingers and then her arm. "I'm going to shower," he mumbled.

Maka let that go without an answer, just watching him rise from the bed and stretch before starting for the door. Every argument that she had produced over the last three hours hinged on telling the horrible truth: she was spying on him. Even though she had warned herself continuously with each video, Maka had still painted herself into the terrible corner of losing him one way or another. Because if I tell him that what I've done he'll be so angry, so hurt, that there's no way we'll be able to fix it and if I don't tell him… this. A giant wall between us because of something about him that I'm just supposed to let go.

That produced a sickly groan accompanied by another childish kick of her legs. So while she was supposed to be up, starting the coffee, getting dressed, holding onto her title, Maka was simply laying there, one eye staring over the curve of the pillow. She was frozen there, cycling between the idea of more tears or letting some kind of impotent anger take over. Neither seemed to fit and she had no clear decision when he came back to the room. Soul tucked the towel tighter around his waist and hovered in the doorway. "Maka…"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could still get the complete details of his body, the lean muscle that he worked hard to keep chiseled even if he did eat everything in sight. I do look at you and if I weren't so… whatever right now I think I would be turned on. "What?" she murmured.

He had to take a break to swallow before producing something that was even close to annoyance. "Kind of hard to get dressed with you in here."

Maka sighed as she simply turned her head away from him and pulled the covers over her.

"Seriously?" he practically choked on the word.

"I can't see anything," she muttered from under the billowing fabric.

A perilously long sigh came from his lips and she heard him go back to shuffling around the room, the sound of drawers opening and closing telling her he gave in. He was quicker than usual and when his footsteps stopped there was another production of trembling air from his lips. In a second those feet were stationed next to her as he crouched down to the bed's height and pulled the sheet from her face. "What are you doing?"

She tried to produce the words without inflection, her lips refusing a frown, "I'm not going."

His lower lip crinkled as he settled lower on his haunches. "Maka…"

"I'm sick," she answered quickly and turned her head just in time to hide the way the liquid skewed her vision.

Soul let his head fall, the mattress leaving him without a satisfying thunk. Another one of those urges hit him, to grab onto her and pull her out, force her into his arms even though that didn't feel any less wrong than what was going on at that moment. "Fine," he declared to the floor as he catapulted to his feet. "Do you want breakfast?"

"No." She just barely kept the sob from hiccuping at the end, saved by pressing her face back into the pillow.

"I'll leave you some coffee," he muttered as he started for the door. Soul made it to the frame, his hand catching it and gripping tightly. There was no other explanation, the way her shoulders were trembling and she hadn't come up for air from the pillow. She's crying. She's goddamn crying and what else can it be but my fucking fault? I'm a jackass, an idiot, I'm… I'm not worth the fucking tears, Maka.

Maka listened to him move around the apartment before she turned her head, letting the tears hit the air instead of the fabric. There weren't any desperate sobs, just a slow leak that she knew she couldn't turn off. It only got worse when she heard the front door close and she let the first mewling mournful cry. She let a few more of those wrack her entire body before she pulled up on her elbows, staring at the smears on the pillow.

Make a decision, Maka. She forcefully cleared the tears from her face. Can you stay like this or are you going to tell him the truth? It's a slow death or a quick one, so what are you going to do? "I don't know," she warbled in reply.

It took a while to motivate her out of bed, wearing her tears down to nothing but sniffles before she made it across the hall. She picked up her phone and instantly the urge to call him hit her, the need to hear his voice and to feel like he wasn't so far away. Instead, she flopped on her bed, cleared her schedule, and slated the rest of the morning for video 5 through video 10.

Each one brought back tears since his last encounter with the physical had seemed to drive him away from getting anywhere close to that again, so he stuck with the sometimes partner of want: love. It's not like he used the word, not once at all as far as Maka could tell, but each was an examination of his devotion to her.

Video 5: "I started the bookworm thing because I had to annoy you to get you to come up for air. Do you know how many times you were just lost for hours in a book? Seriously, you could spend a whole Sunday gone, leaving me to only deal with the chatter in my own head which sucks in comparison to you. I always wanted to hear you."

Video 6: "The way you got to Cr- that kid you saved? Hell, I wasn't surprised. You do that. It's just one of your gifts. But I have to admit… I guess I was a little jealous at first. Fuck, not at first, forever. I'll always be jealous. I felt just as broken, just as lonely and I used to think that maybe you… loved them in a way that you couldn't feel about me."

Video 7: "Oh, that fucking basketball game. The way you were so confused! And your dad literally puked because he was so excited to go shopping with you. I felt like that was ridiculous - being so happy you'd puke over something but… if I could just get you to say there was a chance for a meister and weapon to fall in love, and not even that you felt that way about me but just that you thought it could happen, I'd fucking puke."

Video 8: "I always feel powerless in a fight when I can't protect you. I know that sounds obvious, and I'm definitely not saying you're some kind of weakling that needs it but… is it stupid to say it feels like fate? Like I was actually picked to do this. You think about my family and how none of them have the talent and I just happened to come here and you just happened to like my song and… maybe I was made for you, you know? Oh, fuck, that is stupid, isn't it?"

Video 9: "Your soul is one in fifty million. I don't doubt it. Everything about what you are is different. I've never met anyone like you, ever, and I haven't since. I think… maybe that's why I'm so scared to lose you. There's no one who's going to come after you who can fill your place. You leave me and I'll be walking around with an empty, gaping fucking wound for the rest of my life. Whatever that life would be like."

Video 10: "Once, you wanted me to call you an angel, right? I fucked it up because, well, you're also a pain in the ass. Hard to think of you with a halo when I get a book cracked to my skull at least once a week. I tried to think of you as something else with wings, like maybe a bird. You're free like that, still beautiful in your own way but you'll shit on something if you hate it. I wonder what kind of bird you'd want to be. Ah, fuck it, that's weird. You know, if you wanted me to call you that now, I would. I would in a second. Not just to make you happy, but because… everything about you is a blessing."

Maybe she watched them a few more times through. Maybe she cried until it felt like her eyelids had sand in them. Maybe she was hoping that he cared about her just enough to forgive her.

The day was agony but it's not as if another soul noticed it. Black Star did make a fleeting comment that Soul was quieter than usual, but Liz had immediately pointed out it was because Maka wasn't around to spur him on like she usually did. That had ripped his heart out through his guts again for sure, which was becoming an every-fifteen-minute feeling because his mind was jumping on every opportunity to flashback to her not so hidden tears this morning.

And what the hell am I supposed to do? I tell her what she wants and that'll be worse than tears. Throw in anger and hatred and I can kiss this whole fucking partnership goodbye. I just… I have to get this the fuck out of my system. Easier said than done as the day trudged forward, reminding him at every turn that he was missing his other half. He let it slowly eke on though, torture that he deserved and even punished himself by staying later than usual by channeling Maka and signing up for some bitch-work for Stein.

When he did get home it was just about dinner time and he was already toying with what he'd offer to get her. He imagined he'd find her exactly where he left her but at least hopefully with no new tears. I swear if she cries when she sees me… He heaved a sigh as he opened the door to the melodious clinking of plates in the kitchen.

"You're late," she hollered over the background noise.

"Sorry," he practically stammered back as he slipped off his shoes and walked bewildered to the kitchen. "Stein had me stay late."

"Something interesting?" Maka tossed over her shoulder as she started opening the lids on the pots.

"Nah, stupid shit." Soul edged closer to her, invading her space but forgetting to care as he checked her face for fresh tears. Nothing. "He said he wants to see you when you're feeling better."

"Of course." Maka heaved a sigh as if that would be Stein's expected reaction for his star pupil staying home.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

It was an internal fight he was losing as he leaned even closer, his chest practically against her back now, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her. "Feeling better?"

Maka turned her head and they were practically nose to nose but she didn't balk, praying that there was only a thin pink line across her cheeks as she stared into his eyes. "Sort of."

The sigh from him brushed across her face before he launched back. "How much time until dinner?"

"Who says I'm cooking for you?" She shot back smugly before turning off the burners one by one.

"You better be, you owe me. Four dinners in a row, Maka," he griped as he held up his fingers to prove it. "Not to mention I bet you messed up my bed."

Maka dared to stick her tongue out at him. "I made it, so there."

"Which means it's totally ruined," he cracked a smirk, letting the relief settle in his stomach. This I can do. This part of us I can manage, I need.

She rolled her eyes with a huff before grabbing a plate for him and prodding it to his chest. "Just eat, OK?"

"Will do." He piled his plate high and left practically cradling his quarry, that glow starting to settle in him that this was somewhere back on the spectrum of normal. Maka seemed only a minute behind him, her plate just as filled as she plunked it down next to him on the coffee table. She knelt in front of the DVD selection as she absently reached to hit the button on the TV. "Don't pick anything that sucks," he grumbled through a mouthful.

"You want a modern romance or a period piece?" she chimed over her shoulder.

"Sucks," he groaned out the vowel followed by a myriad of boos that made throaty giggles drift out of her mouth.

"Fine." She twisted to plant herself on the other side of the table before she blinked at him pleasantly. "Then talk to me about today."

He rushed to clear his mouth of food. "Talk?"

"Yeah, other than Stein, how was today?" She leaned on her elbow but her eyes were intent on him, just barely nudging her fork with her pointer.

Soul bought time with another heaping forkful, chewing slowly and deliberately as he waited to see if she'd break eye contact. Maka was completely steady and he felt that chill crawl into his gut. Giving her the truth doesn't have to be that truth, right? Or is it so fucking close that I'm risking…? A few more seconds staring at those glowing green eyes had him faltering, easily losing the fight to the only woman who could dissolve his will completely. "It sucked, Maka, OK?"

"Why?"

He made an effort to completely answer that with a wave of his hand towards her, but her lips started to press into a frown and he groaned. "You not being around is weird. I don't like it. You and me, we have a pattern, a thing and… well, I was worried, too," the last part trailed off almost to silence and he stabbed his fork into the plate in hopes of overwhelming it.

"We have a thing," Maka nodded with a breathy laugh.

"Well, yeah," he had no strength to go beyond that and threw all his effort into making the roll of his shoulders look casual.

She shoveled one forkful in her mouth before turning back to the DVDs, picking one out, and popping it in the player. To his relief, it wasn't either choice she promised, just an innocuous action flick that he could probably quote word for word. Even better, she scooted around to his side of the table, sitting so close that her leg was digging into his. It didn't hurt, but his heart did.

It didn't get better as they finished eating and her head plunked onto his shoulder. That pain settled in to stay as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and there wasn't a second of change from her. No hitched breath, no surprise, no stiffening, just sinking into him as one of those perfect, delicate hands wrapped into his shirt. The movie wasn't what he was watching anymore. These were the worst kind of nights.

The movie ended and he moved swiftly to clean up the plates, waving her off when she tried to help. He disappeared into the kitchen and cleaned up every last bit of her mess, even washing down the countertops because he needed more time away from her. All of it was torture and maybe he was at the end of his rope, ready to give her what she wanted if it just meant he didn't have to feel this way anymore. Then the loneliness sucked him back into place and shut the lid.

Or it did until he walked back into the living room, finding her passed out on the couch. Soul sighed, instantly feeling the long night last night catching up with him too. He still mustered up the strength, slipped his arms underneath her and lifted, watching as her head lulled against his chest. Maka's eyelids only fluttered for a moment, the motion not enough to bring her out of her sleep but her hand still found its way to his chest, clutching back into his shirt for dear life.

Soul carried Maka to her bed and eased her down on the comforter. He shimmied it out from underneath her and pulled it up to her chin. His hands should have slipped away then but they didn't. Instead, he planted them in the pillow on each side of her head, being thoroughly careful not to catch her hair. Every last corner of his mind was screaming but he leaned a little closer, examining the finer details of her face before letting his eyes fall on her lips. They were perfect, not a dry patch in sight and still rounded in that slight pout that eternally graced them.

He let out a weak breath and just as he was forcing his hands up her fingers wrapped around his wrists. Maka's eyes just opened, still flecked with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he stammered as he tried to pull back but her grip was ridiculous for someone who had just been dead asleep.

"Stay with me," she murmured before letting go, leaving him with the challenge entirely on his plate.

"I… just go back to sleep, Maka." Soul was wheezing as he turned away, his hands already desperately coming to his hair to pull it away from his face. The pain at his roots was nothing compared to the knot that was screaming in his chest. He was frantic to close the door between them and he braced it with his back, waiting for the sounds of her footsteps or the pounding hand that he expected. Instead, it was silent and without her, all he could feel was the rage building.