Chapter 7: Unconditionally

Soul stares at the ceiling and counts the glow in the dark stars he manages to see in the dimly lit room until his breathing has simmered. Maka lays beside him, her own breathing ragged and heavy from their nightly activity. He counts the stars over and over, pretends they're the same ones shining in the sky outside, imagines the shooting stars zooming by, but he can't shake the need to tell Maka how he feels. Tingles crawl along his skin from the fear telling her; from the fear of having his feelings be unrequited and her denying him and this entire thing ending.

He's scared, frightened, but it's the right thing to do.

"I need to go pee," Maka says.

The bed dips and creaks as she exits, and Soul seizes the opportunity.

"I love you," he blurts out without thinking.

Her body stilling half way across his room and the time it takes her to respond tells him it's a bad idea. Bile rises in his throat. He debates for a second whether to take it back - maybe he'll finally gain some superpowers and rewind time - but before he can do anything, Maka whirls around. Wide, green eyes flash in the dark, her mouth slightly open as she gaps at him, and a naked woman shouldn't look so intimidating.

"What?" she says. Her tone doesn't sound at all angry or ticked at what he said. It's somber. Almost a weak cry.

"I…" he manages before trailing off. His cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his neck before continuing. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while now that I love you, but I haven't-"

"You can't," Maka cuts in. "You can't love me. It's not-"

"What do you mean I can't love you?"

"You just can't," she says, shaking her head like she's trying to remove the memory of his words from it. "Not really. You love me as a friend, and that's it."

"Maka," he swings his legs over the bed and stands, "I love you as more than a-"

"Stop," she says sharply. "Just stop. Don't say it because it's not true, and you know it. You don't-you can't love me."

"Why not?"

"You're only saying that because we just had sex and sex has a way of screwing with your emotions and making you think you love someone when you don't."

Soul blinks once, twice, and tries to make sense of the situation. She isn't reciprocating or coddling or turning his feelings down. More like she's trying to convince herself he can't love her which is ridiculous and absurd. How can she possibly know if he's lying or not?

"What are-"

"Don't try and make things better, Soul. I'm not stupid, okay?" She takes a steady breath in and places her hand over her bare stomach. "When a man has sex with a woman, he tells her he loves her without meaning it because that's what he feels is right. My papa did all that time to the women he slept around with. It's what men do."

"I'm not your dad, though," he growls. "I'm nothing like him. I didn't screw around with you along with five other women. I've only been sleeping with you for these last few months, and why do you think that is, Maka?"

"Because guys will screw anyone who lets them."

"Is that really why you think I agreed to this whole thing?"

"Yes. Why else would you have?"

"Maybe because I really love you, and I thought having sex with you would help me get over you? But it didn't 'cause I love you."

Fear crawls over Maka's skin. An unsettling cold and warmth settles in the pit of her stomach when he says it again - I love you - and she wants to believe him but she can't. No matter how she tries to spin it, no matter how much her heart tells her to, her mind holds onto the idea that he can't. He can't love her. It's the after effects of their sex making him say these things exactly like the last time. Sex makes a person think they're in love with someone when they aren't.

Right?

"I gotta go," she says after a minute.

She searches the floor for her discarded panties and clothes, and when she finds them, she's quick to pick them up and slide them back on.

"Where are you gonna go?" Soul asks after she's done.

"I don't know, but I can't be here."

Maka adjusts her hair, smoothing out the ponytail before heading down the hallway. Soul's bare feet slap on the hardwood floor as he follows her, and she wishes he wouldn't. She can't hear him continue lying to her and telling her he loves her when she knows it's a lie. He can't love her; he can't be in love with her because they've been fucking each other. A small part of her knew this was bound to happen, but she never stopped and now it's here and she hates herself even more.

"You're really leaving?" Soul asks when she grabs her keys. "You're not gonna stay and talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about, Soul?" Maka asks, whirling around to stare at him and not his flaccid dick because he's an idiot who didn't think to put on boxers. "You need some time to realize you don't love me, and I need some distance from you because this is-"

"What are you talking about?" His voice is filled with anger, and she flinches at the ferocity behind it. "Of course I love you. I know I love you. I've been in love with you since we started this whole thing."

"Then why are you telling me you love me now? Why didn't you say it before we started fucking each other? Before we kissed?" she spits at him. Her own anger rises to the surface in a reflection of his own, and she glares at him and squares her shoulders in a challenge. "If you knew you loved me since the beginning, then why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you said you only loved me as a friend," he retorts. "So what else was I supposed to do? Tell you no 'cause I love you and make things awkward between us?"

"It would have been the right thing, wouldn't you think? To tell me you love before you stuck your dick in me?"

"I only stuck my dick in you 'cause I love you!"

"That doesn't make any sense! A man can stick his dick in anyone without having the need to love them."

"I'm not that kinda man, Maka!" he counters. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe some men need to love someone before they can even think about sleeping with them?"

"That isn't true because Papa-"

"I'm not your fucking dad, Maka! You should know that. We've been friends for almost six years, and I thought of all people you would know me better than anyone."

Maka blinks, absorbing what he tells her, but her remind refuses to believe him nonetheless. Every logical she's been told since she was little doesn't add up to Soul being in love with her. Really, truly in love with her. She knows better than anyone sex doesn't lead to love; she watched her parents argue and fight over her papa's infidelity and him sleeping with women he felt nothing for. She listened to her papa insist he loved her mama for years, but continued cheating on her mama and hurting her.

"I want to believe you," Maka whispers, her voice wet and cracking, "but I can't."

Soul's brows furrow and something crosses his gaze she recognizes as hurt. When he speaks again, his voice is stony and cold. She's only heard him speak in such a manner once before when they were in college and his dad came to one of his concerts which lead to them fighting and Soul succumbing to the disappointment he was bound to remain.

"Fine," Soul says. "Then go. Leave for all I care. You're good at leaving. I've seen you do it plenty of times before so why make this time any different."

"Soul," she says almost pleading.

"You always wanted to be like your mom," he tells before turning on his heels and walking down the hall.

She sucks in a hard breath at his words and reaches for the nearest thing to throw at him but only grasps air. Tears sting the back of her eyes as her hands ball into fists at her side.

The last thing she says before leaving is simply, "Douchebag."

Soul stands in his room and listens as she slams the door. He roughly rubs the heel of his palm at his eyes to wipe away the few tears that escape as every fiber in his body screams at him to stop her. To run out of the apartment and tell her he loves her until she believes him, but a part of him knows it'll be futile. Maka's too stubborn to see things right in front of her and this is something she needs to figure out on her own. Nothing Soul says or does will make her believe him when says he loves her.

Plus, he had said some nasty things to her.

Things she had told him confidence once upon time during their all-nighters when sleep turned their addled brains to mush and the secrets poured out. He had stabbed her where it hurt the most with the comment about her mother. Even with knowing how much her mother's departure hurt her, how much it took for him to convince Maka he wasn't leaving her, he still managed to fuck up by bringing up old ghosts. Maybe that's what he's best at doing; fucking things up.

Sighing, he sits on the edge of his bed and runs his hands through his hair.

"God, I'm such an idiot," he mutters.

"Maka, what are you doing here?" Liz asks when she opens the door to her apartment.

Maka crosses her arms in front of her and shrinks into the jacket - Soul's jacket - she had found in her car, the remnants of wind and pine feeling her nostrils. She must look like a tired mess after spending the entire drive to Liz's crying what with her red-rimmed and puffy eyes.

"May I come in?" Maka asks.

"Sure, but what the fuck happened?" Her friend steps aside to let Maka in. When she closes the door, she says, "If Soul did something to you, you can tell me, you know? He may be my best friend, but I'm not afraid to cut his dick off."

"Soul didn't-" Maka starts but then stops herself. "Soul isn't the only one at fault here."

"Sit. I'll make us some tea and you can tell me why you look like you've been crying."

She doesn't argue as she collapses onto Liz's worn red couch. A minute or two passes before Liz comes over with two cups in her hand and gives one to Maka who willingly takes it. The liquid inside is hot as it burns down her throat, but the heat of it cools the cold ache in her heart.

"Alright, so what the fuck happened for you to end up on my front doorstep?" Liz asks, not bothering to beat around the bush. Classic Liz Thompson behavior.

"Remember when you asked me who I've been fucking?" Maka asks, chewing on her lip. "And you were trying to figure out who it was?"

The gleeful smirk on her friend's face tells Maka she already knows, but Liz still hums, "Mhm."

"It was Soul."

Liz only hums some more and nods. "Yep. I already knew that because you're little fuck buddy told me a week ago."

Her eyes widen as she says, "He did what?"

"Lay off him, Maka. He needed advice and decided to come to me which led to him telling me about you and him being friends with benefits. Didn't think you had it in you, but I'm impressed." Liz takes a sip of her tea, smiling over the rim. "But I take it things didn't go so smoothly since you're here. On my couch. With eyes that can rival Soul's."

Maka nods, takes a deep breath, and tells Liz about everything that's occurred over the last few months from how it started with a kiss and ending to the events of the day. When she finishes, silence falls between them and Maka waits for Liz to mull over everything she's been told.

"So Soul told you he loves you after you two had sex and you walked out?"

Maka takes a sip of her tea and nods. She sets the cup down in her lap, thumbing the handle as she waits for Liz to comment. Her mind plays out every possible scenario in those few seconds. Either Liz is going to chide her for not telling her about the friends with benefits relationship with Soul or curse her for being such a fool for going through it. Not only did it leave her broken hearted, it also ruined one of the best friendships she ever had. And she isn't sure which is worse.

"God, you're dense," Liz says, prompting Maka to look at her. "All throughout college I thought you were this brilliant girl who had a good head on her shoulders, but you've succeeded in refuting that ideal. Congrats."

"Geez, thanks. As if I didn't feel shitty enough about losing my best friend, you have to sit there and-"

"First," Liz cuts in, "you never should've done the whole fuck buddy thing with Soul. Even when I told you you should've. Sex isn't a thing you can do with no emotions especially when it comes to someone like you. You view sex as something you should do with someone you trust which is no surprise given your dad's a manwhore, so having sex with the guy you love was gonna fuck you over in the end. You're not like me, Maka. You can't fuck someone and be done with it. You need the whole package - feelings, relationship, trust - which I commend you on. Sometimes I wish I could do the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but it's just not for me."

"Second, Soul is in love with you. He wasn't lying when he told you that. That boy has literally been crushing on you since you two met in college, but he's been too thick to say anything until now. And you're an idiot for not realizing it sooner."

"What do you mean?"

"The songs he writes? The one I sang at open mic night that he wrote? They're all about you."

Maka blinks, the information her gives her slowly sinking into the confines of her mind. Her jaw slackens as Liz continues.

"Which is kinda creepy if you really think about it, but this is Soul we're talking about. His flirting style goes under the radar and isn't blunt at all which sucks 'cause his heart is in love with the densest person ever."

"That's ridiculous, though," Maka says, shaking her head. "He doesn't love me. He can't."

"And why can't he?"

"Because we're friends."

Liz lightly laughs. "Maka, let me tell you something about Soul. He doesn't sleep around. Those rumors in college about him fucking girls? They're all lies. Soul isn't the suave guy everyone thinks he is."

"Trust me. I know that."

"And he isn't the type of guy who's gonna agree to fuck too if he doesn't already feel something. That boy lives off his emotions and expresses them the only way he knows how. Tell me, has he ever done anything to make you think he even remotely loves you during this experience?"

Dropping her gaze to her hot cocoa, Maka watches the last marshmallow slowly disappear as she replays the events of their time together. The simple answer to Liz's question is yes. There have been plenty of times she wanted to believe Soul loved her; the lingering looks, touches, the way he rubbed his thumb over her hip, the times he went out and bought her Ghirardelli chocolate because she was doubled over in bed with pain. They hadn't been done with sexual intents or for meaningless reasons. Soul had done them because he cared. He remained faithful to her even when they were just fuck buddies which is a hell of a lot more she could say about her papa.

So maybe…

"He does love me," she whispers out loud.

"Now we're finally getting somewhere!" Liz says a little too excitedly.

"I made a mistake, then. I shouldn't have left. Oh no," Maka bemoans and places a hand over her forehead. "I fucked up. I told him he was lying and saying it because of the sex. He tried to stop me, but I… He probably hates me now."

"I can guarantee you Soul doesn't hate you. You can go back to the apartment and tell him you love him and apologize for walking out, and he'd still gladly kiss you like a damn mad man."

"I still broke his heart."

"He'll get over it," Liz waves off.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he loves you."

Maka opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. They'll only be going around in circles which she doesn't want.

"What I should I say, though?" Maka asks.

Liz smirks before telling Maka exactly what to do.

"What'd you do?" Wes asks, answering the phone on the third ring.

"Why do you automatically assume I did something?"

"Because I know you, little brother. You don't call me out of the blue just to talk. So spill."

Soul sighs and rolls his eyes. He should have known he couldn't get anything passed his brother. Out of everyone in his life, Wes knew him the best, though, the lack of phone calls Soul made to Wes should've been a big hint.

"I fucked up," Soul says.

"Tell me something new." Soul can practically see the smirk gracing his brother's face as he says it. "What'd you do this time? Better not have anything to do with cops or drugs 'cause you're shit out of luck if that's the case. I'm not dealing with cops again."

"What do you mean again?"

"We're talking about you. Not me," Wes dismisses.

"I told Maka I love her," Soul says after a couple minutes of silence. "After we had sex, and she bailed out saying she didn't believe me. And as much as it pains me to ask this, I need advice on what to do."

Wes is quiet on the other line, the monotonous hum of the TV playing in the background, for a bit before he speaks again.

"That is a tough one. I've never really had anyone walk out on sex after I told them I love them. Then again, I've never exactly told anyone I love them either." Wes sighs. "Guess all you can do now is drown your sorrows in booze and sex and forget about her."

"Wes, that isn't exactly the advice I called you for."

"What do you want me to say, Soul? That you fucked up by not telling her you care for her from the very beginning? That you're an idiot for even going through a friends with benefits relationship with the girl you have a crush on? I told you from the beginning this was a bad idea. Someone's always bound to get hurt when it comes to sexual friendships because, news flash, there are emotions evolved. That whole 'just sex, nothing else' thing is bullshit, and I told you that. So this is your own damn fault."

"That's rich coming from someone who fucks anything with two legs," Soul spits at him. "I didn't call you to tell me how much of a fuck up I am. I can do that on my own, thanks. I called for advice."

"And I'm giving it to you."

"It's the same thing you've told me before, though!"

"Which you didn't listen to and now look at where you're at. Alone in your apartment."

Soul growls under his breath. "No shit, Sherlock. Can't you just tell me what to do to make up with Maka?"

His brother was turning out to be a real pain in his ass.

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"You should've told her you loved her months ago," Wes tells him bluntly. "You're shit out of luck now. Maka's not gonna walk back into your life any more than pigs will ever fly. So just give up. Go get drunk and pay for a lap dance from a stripper."

"Wes, you're really not being helpful at all."

"Welp, that's life when you've done fucked up. What are you gonna do about it?"

Soul opens his mouth to comment, but a knock on the door stops him from doing so.

"Hold on. Someone's here," Soul tells his brother.

"Can't be the strippers. I haven't called them yet… Oh! Maybe you got lucky and they read my mind. Or maybe I have them on speed-text. You'll never know for sure."

He responds with a low groan as he opens the door and feels his jaw slacken upon seeing the person on the other side.

"Maka?"

"Hmm?" Wes hums.

"Hey, Soul."

"Wait! You mean Maka went back!" Wes practically yells into Soul's ear, and he prays Maka can't hear a word of it. "Oooohoho, looks like little brother won't be needing any strippers tonight! He's gonna fuck his-"

"I'm gonna have to call you back," Soul says before hanging up. To Maka, he says, "What are you doing here? I-That came out ruder than I wanted it to… I'm just surprised. I thought…"

If she's phased or angry by his rudeness, she doesn't show it. "May I come in?"

Soul steps to the side to let her and closes the door. He takes a steady breath before turning to face her, but he's disappointed when she has his back toward him. His hand instinctively buries itself in his hair and rubs down to his neck.

"So you came back," he starts.

"When were you planning on telling me the song Liz sang in college was for me? That you had written it? Not her?" Maka accuses, turning on her heels to face him. Soul blinks, completely thrown off by her questions, and he must take a minute too long to answer because she asks him another one. "Well?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Maka? You had praised Liz after open mic night, and I couldn't tell you it was me who had written it. Or that it was for you."

"Maybe not then, but what about now? Like when you played it for me the other night?"

"I did try to tell you," Soul defends. "But you wouldn't listen."

"All you said was that you can write music. How was I supposed to know you were trying to say you wrote that song?"

He opens his mouth to retort, but she's right. He hadn't exactly flat out told her he wrote the song or did anything to convince her he had. How was she supposed to know the truth?

"I guess you're right," he mutters. "How'd you even find out about that?"

"Liz told me. I went over to her place when I left here, and she told me everything."

"Everything?" The failed blowjob comes to mind when she says the word, and his heart feels heavier in his chest. He silently prays Liz hadn't shared that story with her.

"She told me that you really are in love with me and that you weren't lying when you said that. She told me about the song, all the songs, and how you had written them for me. She also told me about the two of you and how you're still a virgin-were a virgin when he started this whole thing," she says. She averts gaze when she mentions the latter and folds her arms over her chest. "I know everything."

Soul doesn't know what to say. All he can do is stare at the floor and wrack his brain for something - anything - to tell her in response. Maybe tell her why he loves her, tell her about the little things she does that makes his heart lighter and causes his stomach to do backflips. Or tell about all the times he's wanted to kiss her and express how much he loves her through the smallest of gestures. Or tell her how difficult these last few months have been screwing with both her and her heart.

When he finally decides on something, she beats him to it.

"Before we go any further with this, though, I need to tell you something first."

Maka takes a deep breath as she braces herself for the conversation she knows they need to have before moving forward.

"I don't trust many people in my life, but you, I trust. I trust you above everyone else in my life," she says. Her voice is starting to crack, and she hates the moisture coating her vision. "I love you, and that scares me because it means I'm also trusting you with my heart. I saw Papa break Mama's heart for five years, and I always swore to myself I would never let a man get close to me because of it. But then you waltz into my life and everything changes."

She roughly wipes at the tears streaming down her face before continuing.

"Suddenly I'm introduced to this guy who isn't like the other men I've known before. He's sweet and kind and makes me laugh and brings me coffee when I'm studying and tea when I'm sick. I agree to share an apartment with him because somehow he's become my best friend and weaseled his way into my heart and treated me like his friend for another three years without wanting anything in return." She pauses and bites her lip. "And then I screwed everything up by asking you to sleep with me, and then you told me you love me after we had sex and it scared me."

Maka looks up to meet his gaze, and she hates the lost glaze coating them. It reminds her she's crying. She must look pathetic and sad standing there in their living room pouring her heart out, but she trudges on despite it.

"I don't want you to love me because we have sex. I want you to love me for me, and I want to believe you do, but the sex and-"

"Maka," he interrupts, and she goes silent.

He takes a tentative step forward, pauses to mull over a thought before he closes the distance between them. When she doesn't push him back, he cups her face and brushes his thumbs along the underside of her eyes to take away her tears. They're warm and strong and it takes everything within her to not relax against them because their conversation isn't over. She still needs him to tell her-

"It was never about the sex," Soul says, his voice low and gruff. "I only agreed to do that 'cause I thought you didn't love me. You could have ended it any time, and I would've still stuck around and loved you. For you."

Her heart tightens, and she sucks in a hard breath.

"You're the stupidest, smartest girl I've ever met," he continues, "whose stubborn and irrational but also kind and brace. You're someone I admire and love and would give anything to be with because I love you. For you," he emphasizes again. "I love your shitty taste in music and your need to buy a book every time we go to the bookstore and how you share your food with me and will listen to my music even though you don't understand it. You try to, and that's a hell of a lot more than what most people do. I love spending time with you even if we don't talk and we're both doing our own thing. I love your general presence."

Soul rests his forehead on hers. His gaze is hard, dark, as he stares down at her; that secret smile of his ghosts across his mouth and her heart flutters. She feels the warmth of his breath fill the space between them alerting her to how close his lips. All she needs to do is lean up a bit and she can mold them together and soothe the aching in her heart.

"I know what your dad did to your mom is shitty, but you have to trust me when I say I won't hurt you like he did. I love you, Maka. I love with every fiber in my body, and I'd rather stab myself in the eye before I ever hurt you because hurting you would be worst."

A comfortable heat wraps around her, and she believes him because she trusts him.

"Soul."

"Metaphorically, of course. I don't actua-"

"Soul."

"-lly mean I'll stab myself in the eye. That's insane. What I'm trying to say is-"

Maka cuts him off by gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him down for a kiss. It's chaste and short. Nothing too heat inducing or suggestive, but it's everything she needs at the same time. A lasting comfort that he does truly love her.

"I know," she says when she falls back to her heels.

She threads her hand through his hair, the white curls soft to the touch, and he leans into her, eyes fluttering closed. So serene; so calming. The familiar heat crawls over her stomach and up to her chest when he places his hands on her hips, his deep crimson eyes opening to meet hers again, and her heart bursts into flames under the intensity of it. His lips brush over hers like feathers before they press against them for another short kiss, but she wants more; wants to taste him, feel him, give him every emotion he drives within her.

Snaking her arms around his neck, she pulls him in for another kiss and swipes her tongue along the seam of his lips asking for entrance. He gladly opens his mouth in acceptance, growling when licks his teeth and teases him, and molds their hips together. She rubs her thighs together to find she's wet and horny; the complete opposite of what she had been going for, but she'll take it. Soul loves her, he really loves her, and the sex isn't why he stayed, she knows that now.

He cups the underside of her rear, squeezing it and drawing a small, feline moan from her before she wraps her legs around his waist and lets him take them wherever.

It's ironic, really, how they end up in his bed stripped of their clothes and Soul's face between her thighs. She also doesn't complain, though, as Soul languidly licks and fingers her pussy, drawing out every moan and weak of his name she makes. Through her foggy, muddled brain she is able to figure out how this sex is different in comparison to what they'd been doing before.

Before, it had been meaningless screwing around with your best friend who you love and adore but accept the fact they don't love you back. They had been holding back the love they felt for each other, only allowing themselves a small taste of indulgence, of false hope, that this person they're in love with and fucking might love them, but knowing afterward they don't.

Now, though, it's different.

Soul enters her slowly, the intense fire burning in his eyes as he holds her gaze, and a loving, warm fire rushes through her as he fills her. They sigh contentedly together when he relaxes on top of her, accentuating each thrust with a promise filled kiss. For the first time, she feels his love wash over her. Their souls connect with a thin red line sending shockwaves of his beating heart to her own, and she's close to bursting at the seam. His hands grip her hips as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot, and she feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge each time his cock glides into her.

The kiss on her collarbone and the quiet 'I love you' he whispers against her skin is all she needs.

Sooouuulll," she croons out like a song, her voice rasp and tight.

Her walls tighten around his cock, and all Soul can manage to do is grunt as he reaches his own orgasm.

He collapses on top of her, holding her to him and feeling the rapid beating of her heart as it echoes his own. The pure joy and happiness bubbling up in his stomach is intoxicating. Soul doesn't mind it happening every time they have sex because Maka fucking Albarn loves him. She loves him, and nothing can change the excitement it draws from him. It's everything he's dreamed and hoped for the last three years - probably even longer - and now that it's here, he holds onto it and cherishes it.

Kissing her forehead, Soul slides his cock out of her and lays next to her on the bed. His hand finds the dip of her hip and rubs along her bone enjoying the slight shudder she releases.

"I didn't think you were ever gonna sleep with me again," he rasps out.

"You got lucky," she tells him.

The bed creaks as she rolls onto her side and hovers over him, those green eyes penetrating and begging. He instinctually threads his fingers through her hair and pulls her down for a small kiss.

"I love you," he whispers. "God, I fucking love you."

"Really?"

"Yes," he tells her simply.

Maka's eyes search his own, and he knows she finds what she's looking for when a smile ghosts her face and her green eyes brighten and she leans down to kiss him back.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

They end up making love again.

Except this time it's with more kisses, more whispers of 'I love you' and more caresses of intimate parts of each other.

They lay there afterward, both completely spent, their breathing coming out in tired pants. Maka moves her sore legs into a position where they feel more comfortable, closes her eyes and runs her hands through her hair. She attempts to steady breathing but to no avail. Next to her, she heard Soul doing the same thing in his own fashion of ways. It's several minutes before she's ready to speak again, and a shaky laugh erupts from her as she flips onto her side to face Soul.

"What's so funny?" he asks, still breathy.

"We did things the wrong way," she states. "We're supposed to tell each other we love the other, date a while, and then have sex. But we're doing it completely backwards."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I know it's not. It's just not how I pictured this happening."

Soul flips onto his side to face her, his hand resting on her hip to pull her closer to him. Flickers of heat course over her skin where his fingers dig into her, and the familiar desire bubbles up in her lower abdomen.

"Look at it this way." He gives her a half sharp grin. "We bypassed the awkward sexual stuff and can have sex whenever we want."

Rolling her eyes, she says, "True."

Maka reaches up to stroke along his jaw. The slight stubble resting there pricks her fingers like like a spiky cactus for a few moments before she threads her fingers through his hair. He hums at the feel, his eyes closing as she massages his scalp, and she scoots a tiny bit closer to him. Muted freckles dot his nose and cheeks like constellations in a night sky that she starts to connect with her eyes. White lashes rest on top of tanned skin making him serene and beautiful before they open to reveal his deep burgundy gaze boring into her.

"Eight dates," she whispers. "What if we say we'll go on eight, real dates before we sleep together again that way we can say we did things somewhat normal?"

"If it means I can be with you, I'll wait a whole year."

She laughs, tugging him closer so their noses touch and she feels his lips ghosting against hers.

"You can be so cheesy sometimes."

"But you love it."

No words are exchanged as she presses her lips against his, slanting to mold with his and moving in time with him. It starts out chaste and simple before Soul kisses her back, hard and rough. She digs her nails into his scalp as he pulls her body closer to him; their limbs twist around the other like vines as her heart feels lighter, freer, and everything feels right. From the heat stroking her body to the flutters in her chest, everything pieces together like a puzzle, and she doesn't remember a time she's been happier. Soul loves her, she loves him, and nothing can be better.

They break away, both breathing hard. The faint light from the blinds illuminates his face, coating it in a light glow that highlights the freckles along his nose, the scars, and his plump, pink lips. Maka smiles as she admires her handing work and outlines the bottom of his mouth with her finger before moving up to stroke it along his jaw. It's strong and pronounced, tightening at her touch, and he audibly swallows. She feels the soft beating of his heart beneath her finger; notes the way his breathing is more rigid compared to before.

Lifting her gaze, she meets his deep, wine colored stare. His eyes are lazier than normal, more relaxed and calm than what she's used to, but they still manage to strike a fire around her heart. She squirms a little beneath his tense glare, uncomfortable with what they do to her body and the story he tells her with no words. They're filled with love and want. Two things that scare her more than anything given her parents past together, but she knows with him it isn't like that. Soul isn't her papa; she isn't her mama. It's a different kind of love her and Soul have for each other. A love that's stronger than what her parents had because this love is real and genuine.

She smiles slightly. The fear building in her simmers beneath the calming waters of hope.

"Guess this means we should look for a one bedroom apartment when this lease is up," she says.

"What if you get tired of me and wanna be alone?"

"Then I'll throw you out to stay with Wes."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," he groans.

Maka giggles as she kisses the tip of his nose. "I guess that means you'll think twice before you annoy me from now on?"

"Can't keep any promises."

"You could at least try," she says with a small pout.

"I'll think about it. How's that?"

"It's still not good enough, but I'll take it." She rolls off him and to the edge of the bed where she gets up, the sheet draped around her body and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be back. I need to pee."

The mattress creaks behind her and arms wrap around her waist to pull her back to the bed. She squeaks at the impact that turns into a small gasp when Soul kisses the space between her shoulderblades and she feels his hand brush over her breasts as he removes the sheet from her. Her heart skips a beat his touch and she swallows thickly. A familiar heat boils in her lower abdomen, but she pushes it down, squishes it until it's merely flakes of embers. They made a promise of celibacy for eight dates. There's no way she's going to cave into it now.

"I'll be taking this," Soul says.

She sits completely naked on the bed as the sheet leaves her. A blush blossoms over her face when cold air touches her skin, and she hates how perky her nipples get because she can sense Soul's cheeky grin behind her.

"Wouldn't want to leave me naked here, would we?"

"No," she says, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her arm comes up to cover her chest when she confirms that lazy smile of his, the one coated in smugness and sharp teeth, is there. "You'd rather me be the one naked. Perv."

"You don't have a flaccid dick right now, either. It's embarrassing when it looks normal," he mutters.

Mustering up her courage, Maka stands from the bed and walks with her head high toward the bathroom, keeping her arm over her chest. "It's not like I haven't seen it like that before," she says over her shoulder.

"Your ass is cuter than my dick, though."

He chortles when she squawks and flings her arms to her rear as if it'll cover it up.

A/N: Thank you for reading this story! I hope y'all enjoyed it.