A/N There's just...there's just not enough CroMa out there. So! I hope you all enjoy my contribution to the CroMa community.

This fanfic is rated for its language, suggestive content, and acts of violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater

A cold gust of wind chilled the air surrounding Death City, sending an ominous howl to resonate through the city's empty streets. Clouds threatening rain began to stir and swath the sky in a blanket of grey and black, wrapping themselves around the crescent moon whose face stretched in a mocking grin, its maw salivating rivulets of crimson. The stormy gusts continued to flow through the dusty Nevada air invoking a violent tremor in the lanky Demon swordsman trudging through the streets. His fingers clenched his arm tightly and choppy pink bangs hid his eyes from his downcast. A brown crinkly package in the shape of a large rectangle was gripped in the sweaty palm of his right hand, trembling with him as he walked. A bruise was now forming on his cheek from his battle prior to retrieving the item, but he paid no mind to it. His mind was too blank to anything on or around him right now.

A sharp intake of air then rushed into the meister's lungs as a pricking sensation filled his spinal column, an indication that the weapon dwelling inside him was emerging.

"Damn it's cold out here!" a shrill voice shrieked. The Demon Sword Ragnarok solidified from the hovering liquid mass into the short-limbed stubby body extending from his meister's back. The disgruntled weapon greeted his timid partner with a barrage of bangs to the top of his head with his miniature white-gloved fists. "Why'd you have to leave the apartment? Damn it there was food there! Not to mention a heater. After I save your ass from being attacked I expect to be pampered you little pest!

To relieve more of his frustration, Ragnarok stretched and pulled mercilessly at Crona's cheeks, eliciting a sharp whimper from the meister's trembling lips. After minutes of physical torment towards the sword's meister, Ragnarok settled atop Crona's head, his head leaning against his balled fist in boredom.

"So, where are we even going anyway? You just ran out like the scardey-cat puss you always are. Do you even have an idea? I'd like to get out of this damned cold, if that's not too much trouble."

Crona didn't respond. His slowed pace continued and his gaze stayed fixated to the floor. His hand gripped at his right arm furiously, his knuckles whitening against the bruising bicep.

Where was he going again? What was he supposed to do? Everything went by so fast... he couldn't remember.

As his exhausted mind ground its overloaded gears against the other in search of his memories, his trembling continued to intensify and his pallid face slowly shifted into a ghostly white. His shoulders began to shudder and his stomach spasmed and prickled in pain, as if the organ was churning sharp pieces of glass.

How was he supposed to deal with this growing anxiety? How did anybody deal with this? He didn't understand. His limbs shook violently and his heart palpitated against his rib-cage as his panic pursued.

Where am I going…? I know I ran…I always run. Even after nearly two years I'm the same nervous wreck I've always been, the same weakling. Why can't I…

"Hellllooooooooo!" Ragnarok yelled. The tiny demon began punching and pulling the terrified boy's head in search of an answer. "Answer me you little tranny! I want warmth! Just go back home!"

Crona stopped his trek to nowhere and lifted his head by a margin, his brows knitting together in thought. Was he supposed to go home? No…No home was where she was…where Maka was. He knew he couldn't go there. For the first time ever, he couldn't deal with being near her right now.

The grey-blue eyes he possessed began to swirl like an advancing hurricane, madness gleaming on the edges in an attempt to pry its sharp claws into his quivering pupils, eager to pull him under from his fear. A choked yelp then left him as he felt his brain's gears suddenly spark, pushing the shadows away as the organ shot its newfound energy throughout his body, back at full speed once more. His eyes screwed shut as his memory of the day came back to him in quick flashes: his mission, the package he held, his return home, his overhearing Maka and Soul...

He grabbed his head with his hands, the thick packet hitting his forehead with a thud as he fisted his fingers against the pink locks. The sword meister peeked through his clenched eyes to gaze at the parcel. After reporting in, Lord Death had instructed him to take it to Professor Stein after he had rested at home from his month long mission, but that wasn't happening now, not tonight.

What other place was there left to go to? He couldn't go home… might as well complete his mission.

A shiver shook his body as the trembling meat sticks he called legs began to carry him to a new destination."Professor Stein…we're going to Professor Stein's house."Crona muttered, his slowed pace continuing.

"The screw-head? Ragnarok scoffed. "Why do you want to see that science freak at this time of night? Do you get your swift kicks off seeing him pry open little critters while I'm asleep?"

"N-No!" Crona stammered pulling his fright-filled eyes toward his partner to give him a quivering glare. "L-Lord Death told me we have to give him the package after our mission…so that's w-where we're going."

"But didn't he say we could do that later? The bone-faced queer said we should rest up tonight." The sword then grabbed a fistful of Crona's uneven nape hair and tugged on it to pull his meister's head back to face his angry "X" marked face. "So why aren't we resting Crona?!

"B-Because I said so Ragnarok!" Crona replied, shoving away his partner's harsh clench from his head. "I-I can't deal with going back home right now!…I..I-I just can't…"

Ragnarok groaned in exasperation, throwing his head back with his grief. His small hands grasped at the two strands hanging on the back of Crona's neck and gave them an encouraging tug. "Whatever you angst-filled pussy, do whatever you want. But his place better be warm and have mountains of food or I swear I'll be swiping your dinner for a week. Now go!" Ragnarok whipped the hair strands up and down as if he was a horseman encouraging his trusty steed. "Onward to warmth my pussy of a steed!"

Crona's weapon dissolved back into his spine, stirring into the depths of his innards in search of warmth. Crona quivered against the icy kiss of wind on his sweating face as he began his journey to Stein's lab.

Maybe...maybe going to Professor Stein and Marie's house could be a good thing. He had no where else to go and they always offered him a place to stay...maybe he could hide there for awhile.

Throughout the couple of years of his stay in Death City, the professors and he had become close, close enough for people to describe their bond as a parental relationship. He didn't know how to deal with that at first, he didn't like being reminded of that bond…of the tie that was supposed to be loving and nurturing, not cruelly controlling him like a puppeteer's tool. But with that bond being tied towards Stein and his wife, Professor Marie…he felt it wasn't so hard to deal with. They were always so nice to him, after all, always welcomed him in their home and offered their spare room to him. They never hesitated to lend a helping hand and Professor Marie always fervently told him they would be there for advice and a home. Sometimes her and Professor Stein's kindness was too much, so overwhelming he could feel his cheeks turn pink from the foreign affection and felt his brain begin to panic. He'd never understand why they were so kind to him, why they gave him such kindness…such tender care.

But despite that lack of understanding, he always appreciated their generosity, no matter how shy he always seemed upon receiving the affection or how he stumbled and tripped over his words. And although the gesture was extremely kind, he didn't need their vacant room; he already lived happily in an apartment, the one he had been invited to a couple months after the Kishin's death: Soul and Maka's.

Upon the thought, Crona felt his cheeks warm, his breath leaving him from the image forming in his head: a blonde-haired Scythe Meister smiling at him affectionately.

Maka….

Even with the dark clouds stirring in his mind, a blaze of warmth managed to seep through and spread across his tired mind and body; the heat branching out into his cold, tight muscles and into his very soul. Even after all this time his stomach still fluttered with butterflies and his heart thundered against his frail ribs when she was near him.

Maka was his girlfriend of more than a year now; she was an angel who extended a divine, helping hand when he was trapped in the pits of the terrifying abyss of the Madness, saving him from the lonely darkness.

He never knew which feature of her he loved the most. Everything to him was perfect. Her angelic blond hair and forest green eyes always made his face fluster an unnatural shade of crimson. Her now more matured, slim figure with a warrior's physique still made his knees wobble weakly, and her gentle, warm smile and touch left his pulse to skyrocket to a level he considered cardiac arrest.

A small smile twitched on his lips as he envisioned her whole: her pale skin shimmering in the bright Nevada light from Shibusen's balcony, her eyes sparkling, and warm smile entrancing as she stared over the city.

From the depths of his innards he heard Ragnarok let out a content sigh, his own blood acknowledging the increase in temperature as Crona's thoughts raged like a storm on moments with Maka: the first time her bright soul lit up his cold and thirsty one, their embrace in the searing desert, her passionate hug to him after her battle with a Demon God, the feel of her soft lips when they first touched his, the electric spark from the first time they…

Crona's pleasant smile suddenly fell into a grimace and his teeth began to chatter like a jackhammer against concrete. The pleasant warmth once swimming through his veins evolved into a cold, sickly clench in his gut and lungs. His fingers dug into the bicep of his arm again.

Maka….it's my fault you're sad isn't it? I know you would say it isn't….but it feels like it is. It always does. I don't know what happened. Everything was such a blur…I-I don't…understand.

The looming clouds above exploded in light as lightning began to surge across the sky, droplets of rain following in its wake. After more booms and flashes of blue littered the blackened heavens, a heavy rainstorm began to pour onto the dry land below.

Crona rubbed the tears brimming in his eyes with a black sleeve from his robe and continued to walk. He hunched his shoulders and brought the package to his chest in protection as the rain fell down on him. He glanced up at the sky and felt the cold kisses of rain splashing against his skin.

He always liked the rain, whether it was just the sound against the window or being in it. It gave him the feeling that he was being cleansed of his sins, all of it washing down into pools on the floor to make him clean; that he had the chance to be forgiven for his transgressions.

But no matter how much his tortured soul wanted it, the cleanse would never come. The blood of the innocent remained on his hands, seeping into every pore to stain him forever. His self-loathing and horrid crimes already tormented his fragile soul. But the hatred of himself only bubbled and spilled over as his racing mind focused on that confusing night one month ago, the memory repeating over and over and consuming his every thought.

One month earlier

Through Crona's cloudy and lazy eyes, the apartment appeared to move on its own; the noise around him now dull and in booming echoes. He felt a slight hick twitch in his esophagus while his dazed and dilated eyes continued to spin in his sockets, scanning the room.

His drooping eyes observed the banner which hung over the kitchen labeled "Congratulations New Death Scythe Team!" Colorful balloons were scattered across the ceiling, music thundered in the room, and everyone seemed to be laughing; a tinge of red on all their cheeks and drinking what looked like water from glass bottles.

Crona stirred in his recliner and hiccuped again. It was a little confusing. For some reason they didn't take out those long bottles until Maka left to the store with Tsubaki to get more food. Which was weird, because he could have sworn he put extra groceries in the refrigerator, but they mysteriously vanished after Maka told Soul to take out the garbage. From Crona's perspective, Soul seemed strangely happy to do a chore he always despised, but it was a celebration of him becoming a Death Scythe, so why wouldn't he be happy today? Right?

Crona arched a curious, unsteady eyebrow at the bottles his friends held and peered at the glass resting in his hand; the same liquid swishing around in a small puddle at the bottom. What was that stuff Black Star gave him anyway? It looked so much like water, but it tasted so foul, so concentrated. Maybe that's what this "magic water" is supposed to taste like. His cocky friend gave it to him saying the magic would, "Rid him of his girlish doubt and give him god like confidence". It didn't seem like a bad idea really. For the entirety of the swordsman's life he was plagued with insecurities and self-pity, it would be nice to have something help pull him out of what people labeled "chronic depression".

Ragnarok also seemed ecstatic about the water once Crona had gulped it down. He even demanded his own glass saying….how did he say it again? "Gimme some buzz drink? I want to get loaded?" Yeah, that was it. It was so funny Crona couldn't help but giggle lightly. Black Star just said it was magic water, not buzz drink.

Besides, how do you even buzz a drink? The silly comment made him giggle more but it didn't seem to faze Black Star. He just replied confidently, "Sure, bask in the awesomeness of what the god Black Star's has brought."

The sword must have enjoyed it, because the weapon couldn't stop laughing, he even cursed more than usual: spouting off slurred insults to everyone in the group, laughing wickedly, and even making perverted comments toward a currently not present Tsubaki. Crona wasn't sure if he regretted gulping down the drink or not. Everything was so fuzzy... and Ragnarok seemed more unstable than usual.

Luckily, Ragnarok had become so unstable that his solidified form could no longer be maintained. The small form he took almost rained small droplets of blood on him as the demon's control wavered. As always, he made sure to make a dramatic exit, making a comment that the "hooch" helped save him from the disgusting friendship-filled hippy circle occurring in the living room. After that last insult, he fled inside Crona's back.

Crona let out a small giggle as the crowd began to laugh. Ragnarok got it wrong again. Ragnarok was silly, everyone was being silly, even he was being silly; giggling and laughing at every little thing so heartedly. The magic water made him feel carefree, something he never experienced. He had no idea the emotion could be this blissful. Feeling immensely grateful to Black Star for letting him experience this new emotion, Crona wanted to show his appreciation to him for this foul but relief-filling drink he held in hand.

As Crona pushed his shaking hands against the armrest to stand, his clumsy legs wobbled under him and he fell on his rump to the floor with a loud THUD. The crowd looked at him, a strange red flush on all their faces and he returned their gaze with a shaky thumbs-up while pointing to the glass in hand.

"Damn kid!" Black Star laughed. "Check out Crona! The vodkas really getting to him!" The spiky blue-haired man shot a thumbs-up to the young swordsman and bright sparkles glistened next to his eyes. "Your God is proud of you, Crona! Live it up!"

The laughing continued and a flushed Soul helped him back into the recliner he sat in, making a comment of "It's a wild ride for anyone's first drink" Crona didn't understand completely, as he has tried many hot and cold drinks before, but gave Soul a wobbly smile nonetheless.

Everything was so nice. The room was in an uproar, everyone was having fun and laughing, and the bubbly Patty seemed to wave happily and greet the source of a loud slam, someone she knew must have come in. It was possibly more people to add to the fun.

Crona sighed. The blissful atmosphere felt amazing, so calming…but Crona felt it was missing something, something he couldn't pinpoint.

Suddenly, he felt two hands cup his cheeks, pulling him sideways to force his lazy gaze to the source. His eyes were met with a set of concerned emerald eyes staring at him. Even through the fog of bliss the water gifted him with, those eyes always induced a blush to stream across his cheeks and his eyes to widen. There was what was missing.

"Are you okay?" Maka asked. Her angelic voice seemed to echo for some reason, over and over again in his head. Was it the magic's fault? No, it wouldn't do that. The water just wanted to help him.

Crona managed a groggy smile, another hic escaping his throat. He slowly flopped his head back and forth to respond to her. He weakly lifted the glass held in his hand and softly rattled it back and forth in front of him.

Maka's concerned gaze turned into a light frown as her nostrils sniffed to detect the aroma of the glass, the bridge of her nose clenching in what looked like disgust. She left one hand on his face while the other pointed at the glass. He heard her voice in the echoes asking, "Who?"

Crona's head slipped downwards out of Maka's hand, rotating his head to the right to find the confident blue-haired ninja guffawing with his shark-tooth grinning friend; a bottle of the magic water in both of their hands and cards in the other. He let out a drunken chuckle as he lifted his wobbling arm in the Star clan member's direction.

"H-He gave it to me." Crona slurred. "He said I'd feel less worried if I drank the magic water."He looked up to what appeared to be a fuming Maka, her eyes intently focused on Black Star and said, "It actually k-kinda works. You should try some too."

"No, I don't want any."Maka quickly replied. "And you shouldn't be having any of that either." She put her hands underneath his jaw and gently placed his head against the headrest of the armchair he sat in. Her hands always felt so soft, so gentle against his pale skin. It was the loving touch he'd craved his entire life.

One of those soft hands removed the half-filled glass out of his grasp and ran a hand through his hair. "Just rest here for a while, I'm going to have a….talk with Black Star." She kissed his forehead and spoke softly against his blushing skin, "I'm not going to let you get into this like Papa did."

Crona blinked as she stormed off to the other end of the room, the walls and floors still moving slowly in his vision. He wondered how Maka could walk so easily in a room that seemed to be spinning endlessly. She was always so talented…so brave. One day he could possibly be like her. One day…

A small spark of realization hit him as his mind wondered off. Maybe…today's that day? He could feel the water on his side; with that power he could do anything, right? Yeah…Yeah today he'd be just as brave as Maka. Today he would do everything he wanted to do but never found the courage to. A small smile tugged at his lips as he felt a seed of confidence sprout within him.

A loud thud then pulsed in Crona's ears and he felt the room shake. His focus returned back to his shaky reality and moved his head to glance at the event in front of him.

Soul seemed to be laughing louder than he did before, his hand clutching against his stomach as he pointed at the sight in front of him, the twins following in his mocking. Black Star lay in the crater on the floor, his eyes spinning and a dent in the shape of a book's spine molded into his skull. Maka poured the remaining contents of the glass onto his head and was speaking angrily at him. If Crona heard right, she didn't seem so happy about him drinking the water of the heavens, saying it would hurt him more than heal him.

But how? He felt so at ease right now, his mind silent and focused on the whir of the room. It couldn't be bad for him…was it?

Crona then felt a gentle hand grab his hand and wrap around his waist, as if to help support him. He looked over to see his love worriedly looking at him and telling him she was going to let him lie down for awhile. Had it been any other person he'd question it or claim he could lift himself so he wouldn't impose his weight on them. But this was Maka, he could never deny his angel's wishes.

So he began to stand.

Maka helped support him as he pushed a hand to the armrest to straighten into a standing position. It was a lot more difficult than he remembered. So much more that he almost fell into Maka as he stood in his standard hunched posture. His angel told him everything is okay, causing another small smile to twitch on his lips. She helped keep him steady as they walked toward the hall to the bedrooms. As they walked, the curious Crona gazed into the living room to see if his hubris friend was alright.

To Crona, he seemed to be…alive at least. Black Star's tolerant and kind weapon partner, Tsubaki, attended to her partner's injury, her face full of concern and a hint of embarrassment. Soul didn't even seem to cease laughing as he and a red-faced Liz seemed to be re-enacting Maka's approach to the hard-headed ninja meister. The bubbly Patty was busy making edible works of art from the food the table provided: cheesy giraffes peppered with olives as spots and salami stick pigs with curly fry tails and toothpick legs covering her dinner plate. Even Kid seemed entranced in his own works; mumbling words of sweet symmetry as he organized the large bookshelf and the knick knacks it and other furniture pieces held.

Before Crona could witness more of his friend's amusing antics, Maka had pulled him into her bedroom and walked him to the bed. She patted the comforter in a silent command for him to sit. Crona responded and staggered to the bedside to fall clumsily on top with a soft exhale. He flopped over the comforter, like a fish out of water struggling to breathe on its belly, as he tried to make himself comfortable, causing Maka to let out a quiet giggle. He smiled. He loved that laugh.

"Stay here for a bit Crona and get some rest. "Maka said sweetly. She placed a hand on his shoulder blade and rubbed it softly, causing his smile to broaden. "I'm going to go clear everyone out. This celebration has gotten way out of hand."

Maka left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar as Crona lay on the cozy material. He used the palm lying limply on his side to rub against the silk sheets. Maka always had pleasant things, whether it was her personality, home, friends, or bedroom. He couldn't help but let his eyelids slip shut as he reminisced of the memories here.

He remembered his savior coming to the rescue from his corner of comfort when a thunder and lightning storm clapped ferociously outside, taking him to her room to sleep peacefully through the night. How they would play card games or read books to each other on the bed every night. A tinge of pink then crept into his cheeks as he recalled the night when they shared their first kiss under the stars, laying on the ground peacefully and knowing their deep love for the other.

His grip had tightened against the sheets and a rising heat scorched his body as he relived his most cherished memory: it was here where they shared their promise of love. The pink flush was now a deep red as the images of that night flashed through his mind: the way she looked and felt under his palms, the searing heat which radiated off their close contacted skin, the overwhelming desire and hunger fueling their actions of eternal bounding until they collapsed. The images ravaged his mind as the warmth turned into a spiking, overwhelming heat. He felt a need grow uncomfortably strong within him as he remembered that moment, remembered all of his turmoil of even performing their bond of souls.

Every time he even thought about…that, the terror of hurting her overcame him, so much that he often couldn't advance in their kissing and touching. The nightmares of tearing her to pieces from loss of control were rooted too deep. Even after a year of dating the fear still ran strong, his broken mind still unable to accept that someone wanted him. Instead it fed him cold words, lies that he would hurt her if he did try, that he would kill her mercilessly.

But despite all that angst and internal torture, Maka remained patient with him. She stayed with him still, her eyes never filled with disappointment but only of love, care, and understanding. She waited until he wanted to attempt, and with her help of guiding him through it, they completed their promise, a blissful haze meeting them upon finishing.

Crona's fist clenched against the comforter, frustrated with himself and the previous incapability to reciprocate Maka's actions. He was tired of being the one to hold Maka back, to barely initiate anything, to be afraid. Maka wasn't the man of the relationship, he was, and here he was proving Ragnarok right of being a wimpy little pansy; he proved that to be true through their first kiss and first time. It wasn't fair to her and he wanted to fix that.

Inside his hazed brain, he mentally thanked Black Star for giving him something to help find his courage. Without this confident drink, he probably wouldn't have gathered it himself. A new plan was now forged within him, and he intended to carry it out.

He scooted himself on his belly along the comforter and reached out his shaky hand for the drawer to the nightstand to check for something. He slipped his shaking fingers around the handle and struggled to pull it open. He propped himself up and looked inside; searching for something Soul gave him in the start of his relationship.

As he stared into the drawer, the swordsman frowned in discontent as he found the small box inside was empty. He could have sworn he had more of those rubber things, the box wasn't gigantic, but it should have had enough.

His frown deepened. He remembered Blair coming out of their room once. She never really went in unless it was to sleep in cat form, but this time it was different; she acted like she was hiding something. Only until now did he notice as he was too distracted then in trying to get away and panicking from the voluptuous woman who rubbed herself against him. During his moment of terror, she had mentioned something about the need for a "plastic army" for the night. He didn't understand at first, as he didn't have any plastic army figurines in his room, those green plastic soldiers are for little kids. Sure he often felt like one, but that doesn't mean he owned children toys.

…so…plastic army…did that mean she meant…?

Crona blushed a dark crimson and quickly closed the drawer, lying back on the bed sheets.

Okay, so maybe a cat burglar left him barren in his stocks of protection, but he couldn't let this issue change his resolve, he wouldn't. He finally had something to give him confidence and with help from the magic water, he was confident nothing would go wrong. He could deal with this.

A creek of a door opening sang through the room. Crona looked up to see a grumbling Maka taking off her tie in frustration and placed a book on her dresser, a tinge of blood visible on its spine. He glanced through the crack in the door and caught glimpses of their group exiting the apartment. A worried Tsubaki supported an inappropriately slurring Black Star and their red-faced roommate, Soul, left with an arm wrapped around the elder Thompson sister with Patty and Kid following in suit. The door closed behind them and the apartment was filled with silence.

They were alone.

He let out another hiccup as he felt a rise in his confidence. The other times they were together doing…that, they made sure every sound was stifled. But after seeing Soul leave and remembering a certain purple cat woman would be working until early morning at the cabaret club tonight, that wouldn't be the case this time.

"Finally, some peace and quiet." Maka huffed. She opened her drawer and started to collect pieces of clothing. "I swear those idiots don't have any amount of self-control. Leave it to Black Star to go out of his way to seem like an even bigger insensitive jerk. I leave for twenty minutes and he breaks out the booze just like that. Honestly, is he so stupid to think I wouldn't see it when I got back? Or was he too high off his own confident ego to even think straight?" His blonde goddess turned to face him, her eyes filled with concern and frustration. "I'm so sorry I let them do that to you, Crona, I should have been here. I should have known he and Soul would pull an immature stunt like this. You didn't know any better, but heshould have."

Maka twitched a brow and shook her head. After a few moments, she squared her shoulders and looked at Crona. "But, at least we have them out now and we can enjoy the quiet." She gave him another one of her vibrant smiles. Warm shivers shook through him as she stared at him tenderly, causing his already red face to burn brighter. "I'm going to take a shower, I think some of Black Star's disgusting man sweat and blood got on my skin. I'll be back before you know it, just stay here and rest."

She walked over and gently pecked Crona's forehead. She gave him another smile and dimmed the lights of her room as she exited.

No matter what, he always blushed when she kissed him, even if the gesture had been done a thousand times. The thought that Maka actually belonged to him still made his head reel and spin. He could grow to be eighty and still be bewildered, still believe this was a dream. How could someone like him be so lucky to have her?

His heart then skipped a beat and his blush brightened. Shower, He thought to himself. Was this how it was supposed to start? Was he supposed to go in there and…you know, do something? Or was he supposed to wait until she gets back?

Or did he already miss his chance…?

Frustration ruffled in Crona's pink brows and he forced himself up from the bed. "No more questions." He thought, shaking his head. "It's now or never. The magic might fade and I'll lose my nerve again."

Shaky palms leaned against the end of the bed to support his lifting. His knees shook and he seemed to stagger as he put a palm to the wall to keep him steady. As he regained his balance, he took in a large intake of oxygen into his calming lungs.

It's now. Today is the one day fear won't exist with him.

Out of sheer willpower, Crona commanded his body to exit the room, his new mission located in the restroom of the apartment.

Beams of light shone through the curtains into the bedroom as the sun rose in the morning sky. A ray of sunlight shined through the curtains to reach the sword meister's face, causing him to stir from his once pleasant sleep. His eyelids felt as heavy as stone and his head throbbed painfully as his slumber was disturbed. A warm movement shifted against his chest as his body started to twitch. The young man forced his heavy eyelids open to view the scenery around him.

The room appeared too bright. He winced from the excessive gleaming that had spread throughout his vision. He squirmed against the warm mass he felt against his chest and directed his foggy vision onto a thread-like silk residing below his chin. He blinked rapidly as his blurred sight began to clear, his eyes taking in the sight before him.

A familiar scalp stemming with wheat-blond hair and sunlight strands slept soundly against his chest, her angelic face relaxed from her slumber. Her arms were wrapped around him and her legs entangled in his own. The heat of the sun's rays and Maka's body added to the rising temperature and blush staining Crona's face as he scanned the image before him.

Their clothing was absent, it wasn't even scattered on the floor as it normally was. Apparently he was able to pull off his own courage the previous night. They had carried on in the bedroom what he had started in the restroom; it was clear as the comforter still had a slight dampness of water still drying.

As Crona continued to gaze around the room, a sudden wrench of throbbing pain pulsed in his skull, causing him to quickly lift a hand to hold his head and gritted his teeth in pain as the aching waves washed through him. Normally the after effects were always so pleasurable, like a fuzzy bliss filling his chaotic mind. But this time a pounding ache thundered against his temples, replacing the blissful effects of afterglow. He bit back a groan to not wake Maka and rubbed his cheek against the top of her head to calm him.

As he cowered from the pain in his head, he heard a melodious yawn grace the air. The soft mass of hair below him moved to look up and he was greeted with the sweet, tired eyes and smile of his beloved. "Good morning, Crona." Maka said sleepily.

He returned his own timid smile. "G-Good morning Maka. How are you?"

Her smile stretched wider as she drew a hand from Crona's back and brought it to his chest, her fingers drawing circles against it."I'm wonderful."Maka sighed. She rested her forehead against his clavicle and kissed it; her smile broadening further across her face. "I'm still in awe. You were more amazing than usual last night."

He felt his cheeks burn a bright blood-red as he shivered in embarrassment. He hunched his shoulders and hid his face in her hair. She returned his bashful reaction with a small giggle and a tightened embrace.

"T-Thank you." He muttered happily.

Maka giggled lightly at his shyness, cute and adorable like her laughs always were. Despite the aching pounding in his skull, he managed a wide smile, laying with her comfortably under the sheets. What felt like blissful hours passed as they simply held each other, no talking, no moving, just peace from the quiet and warmth they shared. It wasn't until his heavy lids opened in curiosity to glance at her nightstand, curious to the time. As his sights met the electrical clock, Crona felt his insides grow cold, his eyes widening in horror.

"M-Maka?"Crona asked.

His body had become tense against hers, his eyes wide as dinner plates as he remembered something.

"Yes, Crona?" Maka replied.

The muscles in his throat convulsed as he made a hard gulp, eyes glued to her nightstand. "I-Is that clock right?"

"Clock?"

Crona nodded and shook against her. She rubbed a palm against his chest to reassure him and looked behind her to glance at the clock. The alarm standing on Maka's nightstand shone a bright green set of numbers reading: 9:35 a.m. Maka looked back at Crona, puzzled.

"Well, I don't remember touching it recently. And there have been no cut offs of power. It should be right."

Crona's let out a startled squeak in shock and scrambled beneath the sheets, lifting it up in the air. He wormed his way out of her grip and fell over the side of the bed in his haste. He clutched one of the sheets against his bare form as he scavenged his dresser for his clothes.

"Crona?"Maka asked worriedly. "Crona, what's wrong?"

He pulled his black robe with white cuffs and button up collar onto his body and struggled to get his boxy, black shoes on. "I-I'm sorry Maka. "Crona said nervously. He shoved one his shoes onto his feet and buttoned its collars. "I'm so sorry I have to rush out. I c-completely forgot about my mission today. I was supposed to leave on my transport five minutes ago! I-I promised Lord Death I wouldn't be late!" The swordsman flinched again and brought a hand to soothe his pulsing headache. "But this pounding in my head just hurts and it makes me want to sleep…I don't know why it hurts."

A soft frown formed across Maka's features. She put her hand to her forehead and grumbled a small Thanks a lot Black Star, to herself. He blinked at her, puzzled on what Black Star had to do with this but continued to put on his clothes. After a few moments, she released her head and covered her body by moving under the sheets toward him. She made a messy dress of sheets as coverage and placed a hand on Crona's shivering back, kissing the side of his neck. His cheeks grew hotter and he gave her a shy smile.

"I don't know how long this mission will take…"He said sadly. "B-but I'll always have my mirror with me." He showed Maka the small pocket mirror and placed it in his robe's pocket. "I'll let you know when I'll be back as soon as I can."

The Scythe Meister gave him a warm smile. She placed a hand on his cheek and pressed her lips to his, savoring him before he stepped out to leave. The two meisters softly moved their lips against the other, lingering as long as they could before parting, both of their faces flushed red. She wrapped her arms around him and he returned her embrace.

"You sure know how to give a girl an amazing last night of romance. "Maka teased into his ear. He felt his face emanate an enormous amount of heat and tension spread across his shoulders, hunching into her from self-consciousness. He still didn't know how to respond to her teasing, so he just let out a nervous laugh.

Crona allowed a trembling grin to grace his face. He released Maka from their embrace and twirled his forefingers around each other. "U-uh T-T-Thank you."

"You're welcome." Maka said, kissing the bridge of his nose. "Be safe and good luck. Now go on! Your mission is waiting for you!"

Crona smiled and nodded. He kissed her forehead and sat up from the bed. He grabbed the pre-made bag of clothes and traveling gear for his missions as he walked to the door. He paused and looked back behind him, those beautiful green eyes staring tenderly at him.

"I'll be back, Maka." He said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Crona." She smiled.

He exited through the door, his feet feeling like they were lifting off the ground with every step, as if he was walking up to heaven on invisible clouds.

He took out the mission directive etched on a piece of paper from his bag and scanned it attentively to refresh himself. Lord Death had assigned to him to search for a Kishin egg fitted in charcoal-plated armor, nicknamed "The Black Knight"; a pre-demon who has been terrorizing different parts of America and was sighted in South America, leaving a trail of kidnapping cases and possible ties to murders in his wake.

With the happiness of last night and his current life under his belt, he felt like he could do anything. This Kishin egg would be a walk in the park.

Nothing could tear him down. Nothing would tear him down; not even the splitting headache in his skull or this Black Knight he was to track. He was genuinely happy and nothing in the world could spoil that happiness he felt.

Everything was finally perfect.

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