(Won’t let me actually answer so I just screen shotted it)
Guessing I’ll do this in AU format. Hm, never tried that before but let’s give it a try.
Maka’s fingers traced the crisp edge of the page. Her attention wasn’t truly on the book, something else pestering her. Impatience. Just as she flipped the page, the soft ‘ping’ she had been awaiting sounded and Maka grabbed her phone, opening the messenger. A bright yellow icon of a soul showed the other user. She grinned, trying to suppress the excitement of his message.
She quickly replied.
‘Eater162: what r u doing?“
"BookQueen: reading (as usual)you?”
“Eater162: got some sick new tunes. Blasting them.”
“BookQueen: you’ll ruin your ears.”
“Eater162: you’ll ruin your eyes”
And so it went as it did every night, sharing stories about things that had happened that day. Maka almost felt sad her only friend was someone she didn’t even know the face of but maybe it was better than way. Someone half way across the world wouldn’t decide to join her one of her enemies instead of her. ‘One of’ was too broad. She mainly meant Soul. He was too obsessed with being cool to have empathy. Part of her, a part she loathed, admired his confidence and laid-back attitude. But he still tormented her. Maka glanced out the window, seeing the sun had surrendered to sleep and was dipping beneath the horizon. She sighed and replaced her phone and book upon the side table before snuggling under the covers.
“Oi!” He called, “tiny-tits.”
“Shinigami, kill me.” Maka muttered to the gym ceiling before turning go see him. Sure enough her scythe classmate came sauntering up with his meister, Black ★ star. Maka had never seen them battle but heard it was quite a sight, seeing as the two couldn’t match wavelength. Not that she and her weapon, Tsubaki, were any better. Soul smirked with his sharp teeth and his ruby eyes glinted behind tuffs of snowy hair.
“Soul.” She greeted coldly, hoping she looked more courageous than she felt. His smile fell slightly but soon returned, “who pissed in your soup?”
“That’s….disgusting.” She commented, frowning. Soul shrugged, “I see you haven’t changed, still flat, no ass, boring. No wonder you’re single.”
“What’s you’re excuse? Or have girls actually noticed your personality?” Maka smiled slightly at what she found to be a witty come back.
“I’d rather not jump on any of the girls that want me but instead find one I like.” He shrugged.
“Tits not big enough for you?” Maka guessed. Soul formed a scowl, lips opening for a retort when Maka felt a hand on her elbow.
“Tsubaki-chan?” She asked, turning to see her tall friend. Tsubaki had her usual motherly-concerned aura about her.
“Maka-chan, please don’t fight with soul. ” she pleased, earning an eye roll.
“He started it!” The meister stated.
“And that’s his own problem.” Tsubaki sighed. Maka begrudgingly left the issue alone. When class ended, Maka adorned her phone once more and felt a tug of excitement to see a new message.
“BookQueen: hey. How are you?”
“Eater162: fine. U?”
“BookQueen: kinda upset :/”
“Eater162: uh-oh. Wazzup?”
“BookQueen: in one of my classes there’s a kid who’s a total douche and he torments me everyday”
“Eater162: sucks. In my class this chick bitches me out when I flirt with her. I don’t think she even gets I like her”
Maka felt a twinge of jealousy. She really didn’t like it but she had begun to feel a crush on this faceless friend.
“Eater162: yeah :/”
“BookQueen: maybe she’ll come around…?”
“Eater162: *crosses fingers* *breaks fingers* I doubt it. She’s stubborn.”
“BookQueen: good luck.”
“Eater162: u 2 with that douche lol I’d beat him if I was there. G2G
Eater162 is signed out”
Maka sighed and closed the app, going to the changing room. It was almost as though Soul specifically aimed his flat chested remarks for gym as a way to be extra cruel. The girls in the locker room where all big busted and NOT shy about showing it. Maka ran to the showers and back, struggling Into her clothes as quickly as possible to avoid being nude amongst her more sexually appealing class mates. She finished she adjusting her pigtails and went to the door. It had begun to rain, grey clouds filling the sky and sheets of silver drops obscuring her view. She started into the rain but stopped at the sound of an engine growling. Soul whistled from his motor bike, “oi! Need a ride?”
“I don-” as though to prove the point of ‘you do’, thunder cut her off. She sighed and nodded. He motioned her over and she unsteadily mounted the vehicle. After feeling Maka’s arms tangle around him, Soul sped off. The rain seemed to be purposely beating itself against their faces and the wind whipping them for good measure. By the time they stopped, Maka was soaked, half blind and shaky but she thanked Soul any way and dashed inside. She ran up the creaking stairs to her apartment and fell into her couch, pulling out her phone. She opened the chat window and a pop up blocked the page, a blue arrow pointing to a picture of a camera that read, “video chat now available”.
Maka paused then messaged him.
“BookQueen: did you see we can now video message?
"Eater162 is typing….
Eater162 is typing….
Eater162: yeah, wanna?”
Maka swallowed her excitement.
“Eater162: warning, I’m unbelievably sexy. Try not to get wet”
“BookQueen: I’m already wet”
“BookQueen: I meant its raining here!”
“Eater162: XD oh LOL. raining here 2”
“BookQueen: nice. Uhm, call?”
“Eater162 is video calling you”
Maka’s fingers almost slipped on the screen and she answered. Finally she would see him.
He had ruby eyes.
Spiky, snowy hair flattened by rain.
” Soul?” She croaked.
“Shut UPSoul!” Makaroared, so loud that I nearly slopped cream all over myself. Mid-dinner too,
and Maka-chan was yelling, loudly, and I could make out muffled
sounds beyond the wall after her scream had settled into the apartment.
And then, silence.
Worry bubbled in my
stomach, only because I knew that Maka-chan and Soul-kun have been missing each
other recently. What was cute was the
fact that they always made time together to turn on the tv. Whether it was a
movie or some program, I could always find them there, curled up together, legs
tangled and hands and arms haphazardly strewn, but they always looked so content that I never bothered to try to interrupt
But this time, there
was no smell of fake butter or hot cocoa in the air.
Instead, there lay a
And I know my tensions
– this one wasn’t of the sexual kind.
He only used pet names when he was afraid of her anger, her blazing temper as hot as the sun and twice as fierce. They surprised her, distracted her, let him convey whatever bit of unpleasantness he had to share, like ‘I’m going to the witches realm for a week’ or ‘your dad is coming for dinner.’
Most of the time, she didn’t seem to mind.
Angel—Love—even the questionable baby she could handle.
And then, Soul made the mistake of calling her sweetheart, and all hell broke loose.
“What did you just say?” Maka asked, seething. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her teeth gritted,
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Black Star expects me to go to his bachelor party, and it’s at a strip club which is gross I know, but I—”
“I—” she interrupted, growling. "Am nobody’s sweetheart.” She spat out the last word like a curse, and then he was on the floor as she stormed past him, book embedded firmly in his skull.
She hadn’t chopped him—well, Soul couldn’t even remember the last time Maka had chopped him, not since well before they’d started dating—and quite frankly, it frightened him. Not the thought she might hurt or kill him, but that she was hurt enough to resort to something she’d long since outgrown, at least when it came to him.
Clearly he’d fucked up, badly, but he didn’t get it. Was this about the strip club? She knew him better than to think he was really interested, didn’t she? She seemed pissed about the pet name he’d used but—that couldn’t have been it.
Still twitching on the floor, confused as all fuck, Soul forced himself to sit up, knowing his meister was long since gone. His heart was still in his throat when he decided he needed help with this one and fished out his phone. Whatever he had done, he would make it right. He had to.
It was really taking an effort to not scrunch up her nose at the ticklish brush. Maka flicked away Blair’s happily swishing tail whenever it got too close, it’s owner currently babbling on about “contouring” and “highlighting” while expertly applying Maka’s costume makeup. Blair tended to get rather alarmingly enthusiastic about Halloween, as did practically everybody in DC. In a city as eerie and creepy on halloween as it was any given day of the year, it’s residents usually went all out to try and impress their desensitized neighbors. As Blair finishes with a flourish (declaring her Purrfect, Maka-chan!) she straightens her waistcoat and sticks the iconic 10/6 card in her hat, heading into the living room to hassle her partner off the couch and to the costume party at Death the Kid’s mansion.
She rounds the corner and her brain comes screeching to halt, because…well. He’s wearing a half-ass vampire costume, reclining on the couch in a posture that was in no way unfamiliar. Dress shoes and slacks are offset with a simple white button down, along with a cape she’s ninety percent sure he borrowed from Kid. His head is propped up by a fist on his temple, the flickering lights from the TV playing up the sharp angles of his jaw and reflecting strangely in his pale hair. Not-even-fake fangs peek out of his lips as he idly chews a twizzler, the sight oddly causing Maka’s face to flush deeply. She clears her throat in what she hopes is an authoritative tone, but only manages to swing that sleepily intense gaze toward her own. Soul gives her a quick up and down, grinning before drawling out, “Mad Hatter? Heh. Leave it to you to dress up as a book character."
Maka narrows her eyes. "That supposed to imply I’m some sort of ultra- nerd?”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, which only seems to make his grin grow wider.
“How’d you even find this with all the ridiculous sexy nurse outfits and stuff?” he asks, coming to her and studying her elaborate frock coat.
“It’s called creativity Soul, of which you seem to have none. And I’m sure there will be plenty of other skimpy costumes around, so don’t stain that shirt with too much blood from your nose, kay?”
From this close his eyes seem to deepen, zeroing in on her face before leaning in close - unnecessarily close, close enough for her heart to start hammering and her breath to come up short- to open the door behind her.
“Could say the same to you” he murmurs in her ear, that damn smirk of his practically audible. And then he’s off, cape rippling dramatically (which she thinks he might be doing on purpose) as he strides down the steps and into the cool desert night. Scoffing, Maka is confused until she raises her hands to her burning face, pulling away to discover a thin trail of blood leaking out of her nose.