He watched her from behind as she walked just ahead of him. Swinging her arms, she always walks with purpose. He hunches his shoulders and sighs, he's stuck walking in her shadow but he doesn't mind. He thought about her all the time but she was too busy getting stronger to notice.

"Hey tiny-tits, slow down a little."

She turned back with a scathing look but she did pause to let him catch up. Even though he teased her about it, he was glad her tits were small; it kept away the shallow portion of his competition. Her curves were the subtle kind that took a second glance to notice.

Of course, some boys did give her a second or third glance, but when of them looked too long he gave them a pointed glare from his bloody red eyes and slipped his arm carelessly around her shoulder, baring his teeth in something between a grin and a snarl. He hated feeling like an animal, but he hated boys looking at his meister even more.

He'd always been aware of his distinctly girl presence in their shared apartment. Her shampoo in the shower, her hair ties in literally every room, the socks and occasional underwear he came across on the bathroom floor.

He'd been more aware of her in the past year though. While puberty hadn't hit her hard, it hadn't left her alone either. He was painfully aware of the fact that she was no longer a washboard when she curled up on the couch next to him in the middle of a movie. He felt something soft against his arm.

She apparently didn't include a bra in her sleep attire.

He was always glad that there were parts of her that no one else got to see. The way she looked in the morning: hair in dark blonde waves, mussed from a night of tossing and turning. She hardly ever left the apartment with her hair down, and as much as he loved staring at the nape of her neck and thinking about nibbling it, he liked it when her hair was down better.

He felt secure in their absolute loyalty to each other. If she didn't feel anything else towards him, at least there was that. He knew she trusted him when she didn't trust anyone else, especially no other men. Her fear and distaste of men was a blessing.

He knew that more than anything, he was unconditionally in love with the hot headed and skinny girl called Maka Albarn.

He was sitting on the couch playing video games when Maka strolled in with a book, plopped down next to him and spread her legs across his. He lifted his elbows from his knees to make room for her and rested them between her shins. He'd be damned if he acted like it was anything abnormal for her to be this close to him. Of course, it was this normal for her to be this close to him, it happened all the time. He was just all too aware of it.

Of course she wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt and he could see her nipples, erect from the cold air. She is so oblivious to the affect she has. He clenched his teeth as she nudged her feet against him. He felt a twist in his stomach. No way was he going to get a boner with her legs on top of him like this.

"Hey, can you move," he growled, "I gotta shower."

She lifted her mile-long legs straight in the air, freeing him from the weight of her. Dear god she is flexible. He rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Nope, not helping. He stripped down and got in the shower, letting icy water pour all over him.

Maka was going to be the death of him.

He dried off and slipped his pajamas back on, toweling off his hair until his scalp hurt. He left the bathroom, praying that she had gone to bed by now, but no. There she was, sprawled out on the couch with her mouth wide open, eyes shut, and her book on the floor.

What a dummy.

Of course he did the cool thing to do and scooped her up to put her to bed. Her legs dangled close to the ground and she instinctively clutched his shirt in her sleep. Her laid her out on her bed and pulled the covers over her. She was beautiful when she wasn't angry. He brushed his lips against her forehead and made his way to the door.

"Goodnight Soul." He heard her murmur.

"Goodnight little angel."

They were all at Kid's mansion, sitting in the hot tub and drinking fruity cocktails. He kept his eyes on her, and while she hadn't had any more to drink than anyone else, the fact that she weighed less than a hundred pounds made a big difference. She was getting progressively closer to him, her leg against his. She was wearing an absolutely tiny bikini.

"I'm going to get out and cool off," he announced and stood up. He felt woozy from the heat and the sudden rush of blood from his head. Thankfully he hadn't had anything to drink since he was riding home tonight.

He dangled his legs in the cold pool and looked behind him. Maka was wobbling towards him, her balance precarious from a combination of rum and heat. Her knees buckled and she crashed forward, He reached his arms out to catch her and she crumbled into his arms. Dripping wet, bikini clad, goose-bump covered Maka was in his arms, smelling like rum and pineapple.

"Soul, 's real warm," She slurred and nuzzled against his naked chest.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder protectively.

"You're drunk," he whispered in her ear.

"No 'm not." She closed her eyes and wiggled close to him.

"Let's get your stuff and get you home," Soul stood up, pulling Maka up with him, "you're gonna regret if when you have a hangover tomorrow."

He was thankful that she followed him obediently as she threw her bag over his shoulder and tossed her his T-shirt. She stared at it like she didn't know what to do with it.

"Oh give it here," he took it back and held it open, "head and arms."

She dove into the shirt and emerged out the other side, head and arms all in their proper places.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna get Maka home before she gets into any trouble," he called over his shoulder.

"You wouldn't let me do that would ya?" Maka leaned on him heavily. She put a lot of pressure on him for being such a tiny girl.

He led her to the motorcycle and lifted her onto the front, no way was he trusting that she'd hold onto his back safely. He buckled her helmet on and climbed on behind her so that his arms held her on before reaching the handlebars. Good thing she's so small.

"Hey Soul," she mumbled, "I trust you."

"I know."

He revved up the engine and drove them home, struggling to concentrate with her hot, rum scented breath against his neck.

He lead her up the stairs and into the front door, holding her up when she slipped.

"Soul," she mumbled and pressed her lips against his.

Goddamn. He felt her tongue slide into his mouth and he kissed back for just a moment before pulling back.

"Maka, you're drunk."

"I still wanna kiss you," she grumbled and tried to kiss him again.

"I'm not letting you do something you wouldn't do when you're sober."

It would definitely not be cool to take advantage of drunk Maka, willing as she seemed.

He left her on the couch to get her a glass of water and found her asleep when he returned.

He carried her to bed and left the water on the desk next to her.

He climbed into his own bed, hoping half that she wouldn't remember it tomorrow and half that she would. It wasn't exactly how he had hoped their first kiss would happen but he couldn't stop thinking about the way her tongue slid feverishly against his. Damn. His face was getting hot. Not cool.

His mouth tasted like rum.