Soul is burdened by two large, undoubtedly heavy bags, which he's carrying with some strain. I practically run into the front room to wait for him. This was the plan, I keep reminding myself. This is it. There's no turning back now.
The door creaks open, and I hear him calling out, "Maka, I'm home!" This is my cue. I have to be brave. I have to be brave.
"Hi, Soul!" I let my mouth curl into a nervous smile before taking the bags and setting them on the ground by my feet. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"Oh! Hi, Maka. And, uh, sure." He glances away, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he speaks. Blushing already? Jeez. But he probably knows what's coming...
"Uh, I just wanted to say, thank you...for that letter you wrote for me. That...that was really sweet."
His face instantly turns bright red. And not watermelon red, like it does whenever Blair bursts into the room naked. It's crimson, like his eyes, but more vibrant. And when he opens his mouth, every word is a panicked stutter. "Oh, yeah, that...Maka, I'm really sorry. I-I wasn't thinking about how you'd react, I...I just needed to tell someone, but...but the others would probably have just laughed at me..." He trails off.
"Why are you apologizing?" For the first time that we're not in combat, I deliberately touch his hands. They're calloused, but they're unfathomably warm (especially for a boy that can turn himself into a cold metal scythe). Slowly, carefully, as not to worry him, I relax my fingers and let them lazily lace through his. I can't help but laugh when his breath catches in his throat.
"Soul, writing that letter was one of the nicest things you could have done for me. If it weren't for that, I would've had no idea what you felt for me, and I wouldn't have known how to begin to respond."
Blood begins to trickle from his nose. Well, there's a sure sign that he's telling the truth. "Maka..." he manages. "Maka, I..."
"Shhh, you don't need to talk if you can't." I bring myself ever closer to his face as I speak, until our noses nearly touch. And then I feel a genuine smile crossing my face. "You're adorable like that, you know?"
I can do this. This isn't hard. It'll only take a second. I close my eyes, lean in the tiniest bit more, and kiss him.
His lips are the exact opposite of his hands; cold but soft and gentle against mine. Unsurprisingly, it feels absolutely amazing. For a moment, his entire body tenses up, but then he returns the gesture, wrapping his arms around my waist. I do the same, trying my best to restrain countless fits of giggles. Is it wrong to be in love with a boy that you use as a weapon?
We break away a few seconds later, mainly because Soul's nose is beginning to spout blood like a goddamn fountain, and I know that if I linger any more he'll leave me a sticky, red-splattered mess as well. Honestly. I hand him a tissue and demand that he clean himself up, and that's when I hear it.
Laughing. Talking.
At first, it seems like the sound is in the distance, a mere echo of other people's daily lives. But it quickly grows closer and closer, until Tsubaki walks up to me, smiling gently.
Holy shit. The door wasn't closed. They probably saw everything. How many stupid things can I do in one day?
"Good job, Maka," she says cheerfully. "Black Star and I have been waiting for you to get together for...I don't know how long..."
Wait...what? "Sorry, Tsubaki, but did I hear you right? You...and Black Star?" He'd wait for something?
Sure enough, the obnoxious blue-haired boy comes dashing up to the door like a jet, just barely landing safely by Tsubaki's side.
"Yeah, yeah!" He laughs. "You should've heard how much he talked about you, I had to hit him to get him to shut up!"
"Hey, Maka?" Soul reappears, holding a largely reddened tissue to his nose. But when he notices the others, his expression changes in an instant. "M-Maka...what are they doing here?"
The situation seems to suddenly occur to him, as his eyes quickly widen and his face turns red once more. "Did...did they see us...?!"
"I think so..."
"Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. Black Star. Listen to me." He leans into both their faces, his eyes darkening and narrowing markedly. "Do not tell anyone what you've just witnessed, even if your life should..."
"Stop it. They wouldn't do that, stupid." I cut him off with a peck on the cheek, whereupon he collapses in another gush of blood. Sighing, I help him back up, giving him another tissue, but at the same time I find myself smiling. In the space of two days, we've realized, recognized and reached a consensus of our feelings for each other. We've ascended to a place beyond friendship. What are the odds? And how long will this last before we get sick of each other and I'm forced to bid him a tearful farewell?
But still, I can't help but think that we may have a future together. Maybe, if we're still a couple once we've graduated from the Academy, we can move away from this crazy hell that is Death City. So, I hope that nothing ever changes how we feel.
But I truly hope he doesn't keep getting nosebleeds.
