SoMa One-Shots

Player Part Three

SOUL'S POV CUZ I FEEL LIKE IT
What the hell did I just say? I couldn't control what I was saying at all! I feel like a complete jerk. I guess I couldn't let her know that, secretely, I was pleased at her envy. I had only been trying to distract myself from her with those girls. I would pretend they had my meister's sparkly green eyes, her ash blond pigtails, and her conspicuous lack of boobs. That they had her intoxicating vanilla-and-strawberries scent. But they didn't. The distraction never worked. My imagination couldn't supress my want- no, my need for her- I could feel myself automatically gravitating toward her whenever I was bored. Whenever I kiss a girl, I feel disloyal, and I want to tear away from her and hold my beautiful meister instead of all these sluts. But I have no idea what would happen if I asked her on a date. I break up with the latest girl, finally fed up with trying to substitute Maka. But my Maka is unique; she could never be replaced. I knock on her door and enter before she can answer. I stare in shock at the sight in front of me. She was sitting, singing along to an emo song, her voice hitching frequently. She holds a knife in her hand. The skin on her wrist was torn and jagged, where there was any. An insane grin was plastered on her face. Blood is everywhere. And the worst part is? She is digging the knife into her own flesh.