Hey! This is my first Soul Eater Fanfiction. Woot Woot! I don't own Soul Eater. Please R&R

I Don't Love You

The man read his lab reports over and over again, stopping for only a moment to push the oval rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Reviewing his reports on the couch in his apartment he sighed. He had conducted multiple experiments, pulling urchins off the street, and even observing some of his students, to find an answer to his question: What is Love? It was something that the wickedly brilliant Dr. could never comprehend, no matter how hard he had tried. Normally, he wouldn't bother himself with such illogical endeavors, 'Matters of the heart' as some called them. He couldn't help but fear that his brain was turning to mush as he thought of Medusa, her lips against his in a passionate kiss. He thought back to the night, taking his left hand off of his papers on the clipboard, placing his fingers to his lips. Medusa. He thought. Could it be that I possibly…Love her? He questioned himself in deep contemplation.

Soul had helped …or for that matter hurt Stein's explanation on love earlier that day. The man spun around, his hands clasped over his heart.

"Oh, you've grown so much, from the anti-social man I knew before" the man proclaimed, tears welling in his eyes. The man's glasses tilted as he lowered his head slightly, glaring at the airheaded man in front of him.

"It's an experiment." The man said flatly. "I wanted to observe people in love, to figure out-" The man was abruptly cut off from his explanation as the tears started to form in his eyes.

"Just look at my darling daughter. How she loves her papa!" He said excited, pulling out pictures of the two from when she was just a sprout. Looking away from the pitiful excuse for an adult he noticed something that interested him. Soul and Maka. The way they walked together, watched each other's backs, but never proclaimed their love for one-another. He could explain it before, believing they were simply close friends, but now, his previous explanation didn't seem to fit the pair. Looking hard through his rimmed glasses, a slight glare casted upon him from the sun he saw the girl strike the teen with her book, as he yelped and glared. Was this the love that the others in his experiment had talked about? He couldn't seem to figure it out. How did such feelings develop between two individuals?

The scientist drew back from his memories, focusing on his data again. He could explain Love as chemical. Yes, that made sense. It was scientific, and it could be proven, that makes it correct, the man reasoned to himself. So, did he love Medusa? The man shook his head. Maybe it was as one of his urchins had said before Love is different for everyone who experiences it. That makes it impossible to explain to another. His head cocked to the side, the screw evident, shining from its position on the man's head. Yes, that made sense. Every single human body was different in structure, so it made sense that different chemicals would be distributed, and people felt different versions of the vague term Love. The man thought, his mind making connections, one after another. Finally coming to a conclusion that made sense to him., the man stood after writing it down at the bottom of his report.

Love is objective. For me, it's strictly physical.

That made sense. He did find Medusa quite attractive…but that was the only thing he liked about the woman. While Maka and Soul seem to have deep feelings of protection and concern for one another, I detest the woman. He thought, remembering the kiss. For a woman so disgusting and cruel, she sure does have a nice body. The man thought, beginning to lose space in his loins as he heard the key turn in the door. Shifting his weight on the couch, shaking his head of the woman's image, the door opened.

Her blonde tresses beat the woman through the door, as she made her way through the apartment, tossing her paperwork on the kitchen table before making her way to her bedroom

"Marie, what are you doing?" The man questioned, tilting his head at the thin woman who was clearly distressed. The woman hissed her words from the pits of her soul

"I hate Valentine's Day, Stein." The man focused on the woman, butterflies suddenly stirring in his stomach. Had she always been this radiant? He thought to himself, reliving memories from his academy days, walking with the now grown woman, studying with her, getting beaten by her, protecting her just as much as she protected him. It reminded him of someone. His eyes widened, going unnoticed by the woman now sitting on the couch, rambling on and on about her lack of a husband and a lack of suitors. It reminded him of the love shared between Maka and Soul he had observed. Marie continued her pity party, oblivious of Stein's face, as it contorted in surprise, a rather odd face for a man who seemed to know everything a lifetime before anyone else. He came to realization as he sat with the woman. He didn't love Marie. Well, not with his previous definition of love. She lived with him, and he enjoyed her company, especially when her presence soothed him of his madness, and her kind words comforted him. He wanted to protect this woman like she protected him for the rest of his life. He felt feelings for this woman, not simply a desire to bed her, like he had with Medusa. His previous definition was null and void. He finally understood, love was not a chemical reaction causing physical urges…it was a feeling. From his heart? The scientist pondered. It didn't make sense to his brain, which told him that his central nervous system caused the flush on his cheeks to the shock of Marie walking through the door, and the realization that he was attracted.

Then again, his brain couldn't explain why he had butterflies in his stomach for the first time in his life, or the exact reason why Marie seemed to comfort his spirit so much. It all appeared so simple. This was a matter of the heart. His previous definition defined Love as lust for another's body, but it wasn't her body that soothed him when he slipped into the pits of madness, it was her entire being. The definition didn't fit his feelings for the woman. He reached forward to his clipboard, containing his conclusion and attempted to cross it off, realizing then that he did like Marie, physically. She was an attractive woman, her hair always falling to the right place to frame her face, the dress, hugging her body in the right places, exposing just the right amount of pale, milky skin. He tapped his pen, realizing that maybe the physical feelings from the chemicals in the body needed to combine with the feelings he felt in his chest. At this, he smiled, finally realizing that he had figured out what the word Love truly meant. Glancing down at the clipboard in his hands, he realized that Marie didn't fit his previous definition of love. He had to tell her that he didn't love her based on lust, like he had done for the scum Medusa. He placed his clipboard containing all of his notes on his love experiment on the couch, setting it down between the pair. He then reached for Marie's hands, cupping them in his own. This broke her from her ramblings, her head snapping to look into his alluring green eyes. The man leaned in, barely centimeters from the woman's face and whispered softly into her ear:

"Marie, I don't love you." His face formed into a soft smile after the words finally escaped his chest. Leaning in to kiss her cheek, the woman jerked back violently, shooting up from her seated position in the couch and grabbing the man's clipboard containing his true conclusion. Tears were in woman's eyes, threatening to spill over, as she hit the man over his head with his clipboard, his paper's scattering on the floor. She huffed into her bedroom, stomping all of the way in frustration, as she shouted the phrase 'Stupid Jerk!'

The man sat puzzled, confused by his companion's actions. He had just given her secret information into the life of his experiments, and she seemed so angry.

"I thought women liked to hear that they were not just seen as sexual objects, used for the enjoyment of their male counterparts." The man stated, rubbing the back of his head, still clearly confused. Unbeknownst to him, women, particularly the blonde beauty now sobbing and shouting behind her bedroom door, enjoyed hearing the men they were infatuated with whisper 'I Love You' in their ear, instead of the latter. "I assume Soul was correct about women always being right…I guess I should, apologize?" He questioned, expressing his concerns out loud. He walked over to her door, which was previously slammed shut. Knocking slightly on the door, he heard the room become eerily silent.

"What do you want?" She questioned the anger still evident in her voice, along with the despair as she sat on her bed.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Marie. It came out…wrong." He stated

"Really?" she asked, the up tone obvious in her voice, clearly wondering what he could have meant. He must of meant that he loves me, but he was just nervous! She reasoned to herself, waiting for the words to come through the door.

"What I meant to say…" He began, pausing slightly to put his words together. She didn't like it when he said he didn't like her for her body…so maybe he should compliment her insides, and she would finally understand.

"You have a really good personality, Marie" He said lovingly, soon shocked and stumbling back on his feet, as a large, metal object was thrown with great intensity at the unsuspecting wooden door. "Bastard" She shouted, shocked slightly at her own profane language.

He reasoned with himself that this new sensation of Love was going to be the death of him.