A/N: I do not own Soul Eater, this is just a story I had on my mind and wanted to write for fun. Enjoy!

The pitter-patter of fingertips against keyboards keys came to a sudden halt, as Franken Stein demonstrated infrequency in his routine—checking the time on his computer screen. It was only then that he noticed his roommate's prolonged absence from the room. He could hear her humming a nervous tune and frantically fiddling with something. Curious, as always, he stood from the computer and slowly walked down the corridors of his home to her room—situated across the hall from his own.

The door was open and he could plainly see what was going on, although he did not altogether comprehend it. Six or seven, yes seven, dresses were strewn about the room—one hanging off the closet handle, one off the back of her desk chair, four across the bed, and one she was holding up to her body, as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her blonde locks had been pinned up in a bun, and her body wrapped up in a silk robe. He deduced she was getting ready for something, but that didn't quite make sense to him. They had only made plans to watch TV that evening.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watched as she grumbled and tossed the dress she'd been holding away—eliciting a slight, if amused, grin from him. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the dress she had been holding, except that it might have accentuated her large bust too much. He gathered that she was trying to impress someone, but not so much so that her breasts were the only things they were staring at. This confirmed to him that she would not be spending the evening watching TV with him. He almost felt a lonesome, disheartened ache tighten in his chest—but as usual, his desire to know what her new plans for the evening were and why they were so important to her, trumped any glum feelings he may have felt.

His fingertips scratched gently at the stubble on his chin and neck as he tried to formulate a hypothesis before she noticed his presence—she so obviously was too wrapped up in her own dilemma to pay him any mind. Her hair had been washed with a fragrant shampoo, but she was wearing perfume as well—he could faintly detect the scent of passionfruit, violets and vanilla. Her make-up was done to absolute perfection, and as was her hairdo. She had also shaved her legs. All that was left was her outfit (which was evidently proving to be the most difficult task).

All things considered, Stein should have come to his conclusion much sooner. She was going on a date. Satisfied with his observation, he decided to make his presence known.

"Wear the purple dress."

"Franken!" Marie peeped, nearly tripping over her own two feet. "H-How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know you're not going to be watching the nature channel with me tonight." He replied calmly, indifferently. He could never be angry with her, because there was nothing to be angry about. She was his weapon, not his wife—she had no obligation to live with him, much less spend the night with him.

Marie's shoulders drooped and he sensed her soul deflating out of guilt, "Oh, that's right, they found a dead great white off the coast of South Africa, they were going to record the dissection for science and discuss all of its killer qualities." She practically recited the commercial word for word; he couldn't resist another lazy grin.

"It's alright." He responded with a shrug, knowing that her normally positive soul would rebound quickly. "I'll tape it, we can watch it later. You have an important date, I take it?"

Marie blushed and instinctively tugged her robe up to cover her exposed collarbone. Stein pretended he didn't notice the way it caused the bottom hem to inch upwards and expose more of her thighs. "I was trying out this new dating site, and it paired me up with this guy pretty quickly! So we set up a date right away! He could be my future husband, Franken!" Doubtful, but Stein kept his opinions to himself on this matter, "So you think I should wear the purple one?"

"Yes." He thought that would be a sufficient answer, but it appeared that she needed confirmation as to why the purple dress would suit her better. Taking a hint, he plucked the dress from the bed and held it up to her, "The neckline suits your hair styled that way, and the plum violet color goes well with your make-up and complexion. It's not too revealing, while still being aesthetically pleasing."

She stared at him for a few seconds, her brow furrowing out of suspicion—she must have thought he might be lying or something. His expression remained passive, giving away nothing. Finally she responded, "Do you think I'm aesthetically pleasing, or just me in the dress?"

He refrained from asking the obvious questions on his mind: What sort of a question was that and why did she care what he thought?

But as he looked as he looked at her now, he realized she needed this in order to go on her date with confidence. Due to their closer proximity, his sense of smell was overwhelmed with her perfume, rather than his cigarette smoke and he found himself curious about what she was covering up with that robe. A thought that had never quite occurred to him in the way it was now.

Stein's eyes did not shift away from her own, singular eye, but instead bore into it with uncomfortable sincerity, "Marie, you are without a doubt, one of the most aesthetically pleasing people I've ever met."

"Oh um, thank you." She smiled awkwardly, "I think you're right, I'll wear the purple one."

"Fine choice." He smiled, although it was not wholeheartedly genuine, as he handed her the dress and stalked out of the room—back to his island known as the computer desk.