dwma shirt

higvchis-deactivated20160921  asked:

Hmmm, what about SoMa + "music"?

This took a bit longer than I wanted it to, but here it is! I hope you like it.


Soul ran a hand through his hair while he sat on the couch across from Maka, exhaling a sigh. He wasn’t even sure she’d like it. It seemed cheesy, now that he thought about it. But it had been expensive, and he had already placed the small, wrapped birthday present in his meister’s hands.

Maka had already received her generic gift from him: a simple DWMA shirt with her graduating year printed on it, which he had given to her during her party earlier. But his other gift had been made for her personally, and he wanted to wait to give it to her until the other guests had left.

The dim light from the side table lamp lit the living room with a warm glow, one that thankfully didn’t spread to the floor to display the array of trash their guests had left. Soul watched anxiously as Maka pulled the green ribbon off the package, delicately tore the wrapping from it, and with a bit of confusion evident on her face, drew the miniature baby grand piano out from the red box.

“It’s a music box,” Soul said hastily, pulling his gaze from hers and down to the trinket. “Open the top and turn the key on the side.”

Maka smiled a little, easing some of Soul’s apprehension. “Impatient, Soul?” she asked. Her weapon glanced up at her and offered a meager grin in return.

“I just want to know if you’ll like the song,” he mumbled slightly.

His meister slowly ran her fingers over the shining lid. “Well, it looks pretty,” she said. “I like it already.”

Soul crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re dragging this out,” he huffed. Maka shrugged, but her playful smirk hinted that she knew exactly what she was doing before she opened the box and wound it gradually.

A tinkling melody began to waft through the room as soon as she removed her hand from the key, and Soul watched eagerly as Maka’s eyes widened.

“This is…”

“Our song,” murmured Soul softly. “The one I play when we Resonate.”

Maka stared silently at the small piano in her hands, while the song carried through the air between them. Soul watched her, frowning a little. Did she not like it? Was that horror causing her mouth to hang open?

“I love it.”

Soul blinked, his own jaw falling slack. “Really?” he breathed. “It’s not too cheesy? Or uncool?”

Maka shook her head, leaning over to peck his lips once. “It’s perfect,” she beamed, leaving Soul’s face to burn as red as his eyes. He grinned, releasing a small, relieved chuckle.

“Happy Birthday.”