A/N: Here is my third and final entry for Resbang 2016! I had the pleasure of working with leslietendo on tumblr for the event, and it was a huge pleasure to have her as my partner. She was so supportive and patient with me throughout the process. I also enjoyed talking with her and sharing ideas for the story as well as for her art. Her art can be found on her tumblr under the same name. Happy reading!

Warnings: mild sexual content, mutual repression of feelings, mutual pining, awkward family moments, fluff

Chapter 1: Stubborn Love

"Soul?" she asks a little incredulously.

He opens his mouth to respond, but promptly closes it because he doesn't have a very good excuse as to why he's standing on her doorstep. The last of his belongings have been moved from her apartment for a well over a month now. It isn't his turn to take Blair for the week as per to the custody order they had agreed on when he left. Maybe if he's forgotten a mug or one of his movies were mixed with hers he'd have a proper reason to be there. Unfortunately, neither of those are the case so her shock over seeing him again is understandable.

Soul doesn't blame her. He isn't a fan of seeing his ex-girlfriend of two months ago, either.

Maka was meant to remain in the past, only seen when it's his turn to take the cat, but, the situation called for this.

"May I come in?" he asks.

"No," she sharply tells him, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

She crosses her arms and places her small frame firmly in the doorway to block his path. It doesn't mean much, though. He can easily push her out of the way and enter considering how tiny and slender she is with absolutely zero intimidation in her features to someone who doesn't know her. Her legs are probably her most deadly weapon, but he also knows she's ticklish behind her knees which gives him a slight advantage. So, really, her blocking him is comical at best.

Even knowing this, though, he doesn't dare consider overpowering her and forcing his way inside because this is still her apartment. His name is long gone from the lease they had signed when they first moved in, and he's too scared to try her. He'd rather not take his chances and end up in jail because of breaking and entering or knocked out in a hospital bed for a week from one of her punches.

It's best not to test Maka.

"Whatever you have to say you can say it out here."

Sighing, Soul relents, "My family doesn't know we broke up since our Facebook statuses still say we're together."

"Then I'll change it," she shrugs. "You didn't have to come out here to tell me that. You could've text me or something... If I still had your number, that is."

Soul refrains from rolling his eyes. He knows perfectly well she does indeed still has his number in her phone. She probably doesn't have it filed under his name and instead replaced it with a choice word or two, but she definitely still has it.

"Yeah, well, that's not the only reason I'm here." She juts her chin asking him to continue. "Since my family still thinks we're together, they invited you to our lake house for a week because they think I'd have more fun with my girlfriend there."

The way he says girlfriend is filled with venom and distaste as if it were a rotten apple or moldy cheese. Maka doesn't miss this, and he finds far too much glee in her glare than he should.

"Then tell them you and your girlfriend," she mimics his tone, "broke up. It's not that complicated."

Her unwillingness to agree doesn't surprise him. He'd turn down the offer too if his ex showed up on his doorstep asking to pretend to be together for one week. But, at the same time, he knows her weakness exactly like she knows his.

"How 'bout you tell my mom that while she's going on and on about finally having a Pictionary buddy who can help her win against me and Wes?"

She softens at the mention of his mom.

"Yeah, doesn't seem that easy, does it?"

"Leave Evelyn out of this," Maka growls. "She's a nice lady who isn't part of this."

"Newsflash, Maka, she is part of this when my mother enjoys your company and will be upset to hear we've broken up. Can't imagine why she likes you 'cause you're a fat ankled girl who - Oof!"

He doubles over from having the wind knocked out of him while Maka shakes out the hand she used to punch him in the gut.

"The fuck, Maka!"

"That's what you get for being so goddamn rude!"

"You didn't have to punch me, though."

"That's what I do when guys are being jackasses, remember?"

Soul recovers a few seconds later. Pointing out Maka's physical flaws isn't how he's going to convince her to go to the lake house with him. In fact, it'll do the complete opposite, and if he hasn't fucked things up by now, he'll have to face the music and tell his family the truth. He doesn't know which is worse: kissing a girl he's supposed to have zero feelings for for a week or spending a week with his family's comments about him screwing up the best thing he had. The former is more appealing.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he drops his gaze from hers and pouts at the faded yellow mat below his feet. The letters on it are worn with the W and E barely visible;the only two letters that are readable are the M and E. How ironic. At least the sunflowers are still there like they had been when they bought the welcome mat together.

"Sorry for saying your ankles are fat and being a jackass," he mumbles. Honestly, his hostility comes from the sourness of their break up, but he chooses not to mention that. "I didn't come here to do that. I came to ask if you'd come with me to our lake house and pretend that we're still together for a week."

Maka doesn't say anything, but the anger vibrating off her body does dissipate. Barely. It's enough confirmation that she won't hurt him as he glances at her beneath his bangs. The same way he had done so many times during their relationship when he was in trouble and she would forgive him with a kiss and a smile.

Neither of those happen, though.

"At least this way you'll have a chance to say goodbye to my family properly," he adds as an afterthought. "I know you always did like 'em."

The more than me tastes bitter where it sits on his tongue.

She's silent for what feels like an eternity. Her body stiffens as she stands there, chewing on the inside of her mouth and mulling over his words. He sees the war raging on in her mind as she debates whether to take the bait or not. Dark green eyes steadily lighten as she comes to a decision, and-

"If I agree to this, there will be a couple ground rules," she says.

His heart gives a gentle tug at her words. "Not surprising."

"First, you and I are absolutely, without a doubt, not getting back together when this week is over. I don't want this ending up being a ploy for us to be a couple again."

"Wouldn't even dream of getting back with you," he bites.

"Feeling's mutual," she grins. "Second, after this week is over, you're only to come to the apartment for Blair. You're my ex for a reason, and I'd like it to stay that way."

It stings for her to push him out of her life even more, but he nods his response, tightening his mouth because he doesn't trust his voice.

"I guess we're back together for the week," she says, more to herself than him. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Trust me. Neither can I."

"So, what time are we leaving? Are you gonna pick me up?"

"No, you can drive your ass to the train station on Friday, and I'll meet you there with your ticket," he says.

"We're going by train?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd rather not be stuck in a car with you for three hours."

Maka rolls her eyes. "You're a regular Prince Charming, you know."

"Thanks. I try," he smiles, sharp teeth and all.

She doesn't return it. Instead, she places her hand on the door to close it indicating the conversation is over. Soul follows suit, stuffing his hands in his pockets and giving her a curt nod as he faces the direction of the parking lot. Maybe a nice drive around town on his motorcycle will help soothe the ache in his heart and the need to be with Maka. He always did find peace in the roar of his baby and the freedom she gave him.

"Bye, Soul."

"Bye."

The 'love ya' dances on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it down to prevent it from escaping. It pains him more than he wants to admit to not end their goodbye with it after so many years of doing so. He isn't sure if he's ready to pretend to be with Maka for a week, but he figures it'll do some good. At least, it'll give him a chance to be with her one last time and fill the void his dreams leave him with, particularly the ones revolving around her and them and who they were before. It's a selfish reason, but it's the only way he knows how to do it.

Faith has given him an opportunity to be with her for an extra week, and he's determined to make the most out of it.

Even if it'll no doubt leave him even more broken hearted than before.

It's five in the morning on Friday when he wakes up to catch his train at eight.

Though, wake up is a very loose interpretation of the word.

He snoozes his alarm from five in the morning until close to seven in thirty minute intervals as his body refuses to get up. It isn't until he sees the combination of Maka's name on his screen and the time he's finally inspired to get out of bed. Years of dealing with his ex-girlfriend's insistent need to be on time for any event (movies, dates, meetings) has taught him when he needs to get his ass out the door. Especially when he's the one who has her train ticket.

"'Lo?' he groggily says jumping into what he hopes are a clean pair of pants.

"Are you still asleep?" she asks in greeting.

"I'm not asleep, thanks." Soul stifles a yawn. "I'm getting up."

Maka's irritation practically seethes through the line as she says, "You do remember that you're the one who has our tickets. Supposedly. Since knowing you, you probably haven't even bothered to get them." The sound of her rummaging through something on the other end meets his ears. "If you want, I'll buy them now, and you can pay me back later. So long as you get your ass out of bed, that is."

"Don't bother. I bought them and printed them out last night."

"You did?" There's a hint of surprise mixed with confirmation in her tone.

"Yes. Now gimme twenty minutes to get over there. I don't live far from the station."

A brief silence on the phone.

"I didn't know you lived close," she says.

"Yeah, I do."

Soul sorts through the pile of dirty clothes on his floor for a shirt and sniffs each one until he finds one that's fairly clean smelling. Thankfully he had showered the previous night so he doesn't need to worry about stinking too bad. All he needs to do is put on some deodorant, a dab of cologne, and he'll be appropriate to sit by Maka for four hours.

"I'll see you in a few with coffee," he grumbles.

"Better be a caramel macchiato," is all she says before the beep indicating she hung up sounds.

Sighing, he tosses his phone onto his bed before changing shirts.

Unfortunately for him, his past self hadn't been kind enough to pack his suitcase for him leaving Soul to sort through his drawers and toss clothes into his luggage. At least he's consistent, though. His one bad habit had always been his last minute packing for a trip whether for a weekend getaway or a week at the lake house. It was one of the things Maka always bugged him to change when they were dating. Something she's probably complaining about at the train station this very minute because even if they're broke up, she still knows him. She knows him better than anyone else in his life - including his family.

Leaving his apartment with his suitcase in tow, Soul silently hopes this next week doesn't prove how true that is. He isn't fully ready to let her go, and he doesn't think remembering her quirks and habits is going to help push him in the right direction. Two months isn't enough for him to forget those, he figures, like her consistent need to bring a book wherever she goes.

"I brought you coffee," he says, waiting for her to glance up from her book.

The worn edges and broken blue spine tell him it's her copy of Persuasion. It's the same novel he's seen her read about a dozen times on their old couch while he massaged her feet and watched reruns of The Twilight Zone. Or when they used to lay in bed together, him on her chest watching the city lights glitter and glow outside, and she'd rest the novel against him as she read. Familiar warmth spreads over his chest at the memories it brings up. Memories he's forced himself to not think of for quite some time now. He's quick to swallow it all down.

Slowly, she pulls her gaze away from the novel to meet his, her finger marking the sentence she left on, and briefly checks the clock hovering above the ticket booths.

"And you're only late by a minute or two. Congratulations. I think that's a new world record," she says with a bite in her words.

"Yeah, yeah. Can we skip over the sass bit and jump to when you take this damn tray from me so I can get our tickets?" He shakes the drink tray once for emphasis.

She takes her sweet time sliding a bookmark between her pages and setting the novel to the side before taking the tray from him. He rolls his wrist to rid himself of the ache from carrying it for so long and unzips the front of his suitcase where he had stowed the tickets.

"Here," he says, handing her hers. "I got us our own compartment. I know you don't care to share with me, but it was cheaper like this."

Surprisingly, he isn't lying to cover up his own selfish desires.

"I suppose I'm fine sharing the same oxygen as you for four hours," she dryly comments.

Soul snorts. "As if I wanna be stuck with my ex for the next four hours with her glaring at me."

"I won't be glaring at you. I'll be ignoring you and reading my book."

"A book you've read about a hundred times since the day you were born."

"I've been reading it since high school, thank you very much. And at least it's more reading than you've done in your lifetime."

"Why read when there's probably a movie for it somewhere?"

"Lazy ass," she mutters under her breath.

His mouth twitches slightly as he turns around to face her, a snide remark on the tip of his tongue, but stops halfway when he realizes why he wants to say it. It's comical how easy their banter has revived itself as if they haven't gone two months without speaking to each other. It's comical how much Soul wants to give her a witty comeback for the sole purpose of making her blush and puff out her cheeks in the way he always loved so he can kiss it away afterward. Or say it purely to laugh and kiss her and whisper in her ear he's joking to feel the shiver ride over her body like so many times before.

Swallowing the remark, his permanent scowl returns and he busies himself with grabbing his coffee.

"Think we better start heading to our platform," he mumbles.

He misses the way she blinks and opens her mouth slightly before ducking her head as she slips her book into her purse.

"Yeah. I think you're right," she whispers.

They both get their things ready, neither one saying another word, and head over to the ticket booth where they give the attendant their tickets before going to their platform.

Soul sits across from Maka on the train, his forehead resting on the wall beside him. Maka sits on the side by the window with her legs beneath her and her book on her thighs. His own legs are outstretched in front of him so that they take over the other half of her seat while he listens to music. He tries not to steal glances her way, but ends up wonderfully failing at it. Every now and then, he catches the intrusive thoughts sneak into his brain and whisper dumb, romantic things to his heart before he quickly pushes them back to the blackhole where they came from.

It isn't his fault, though.

Maka's still as lovely as ever when she reads. Her hair's tied up in a messy bun with a few strands dancing on the side of her face, fringe bangs a curtain over her emerald eyes. Sunlight dances around her, moving her shadows across the wall behind her. Somehow, it gives her an angelic glow with the way it bounces off her blonde hair, and his heart warms at the image. He notices the small smile tugging on his lips before it can show and covers his mouth with his hand to hide it.

He hates the gooey warmth that spreads across his chest and squeezes at his heart. He hates the tingly sensation from his fingertips as they crave the touch of her hair or her legs or any part of her really.

The emotions he goes through upon seeing her perched on her seat so delicately like a bird are lovely and hideous at the same time. Reminding himself that they aren't together anymore and will never be together again constrict and twist his heart until the point that he refuses to believe it. That portion of himself who still loves Maka refuses to let her go, and he hates it. He isn't sure how he's going to get through this next week without fucking it up in some way.

What's worse is that he's the one who dug himself into this mess.

If he had only fessed up to his mom and told her that him and Maka broke up, he wouldn't be dragging said girl to a lake to spend time with his family. What makes it worse is that the only reason he hadn't was because he selfishly wanted to spend a little more time with her. Their break up had happened too quickly, their separation too soon, and he needed to find some sort of closure for their relationship.

Their break up hadn't been mutual, and it pains him that she was willing to let him go so easily.

Especially over something so stupid.

Maka both loves and loathes this trip she's being dragged to go on.

Of course, she could have easily told Soul to fuck off and think of an excuse to give his family, but she hadn't and she still hasn't figured out why not. Her final opportunity to twist the knife she had speared through his heart when they broke up was right in front of her, and she didn't take it.

Instead, she agreed because she likes his mom and Wes.

A part of her felt bad for deserting the family so quickly even though they weren't immediate kin to herself. She wanted to say goodbye to them in the best way possible, and this weekend is her chance to do so. They had met each other a few times during her relationship with Soul that it only feels right that she's going along with this ruse. Maybe this trip will help seal the gash over her heart that Soul's betrayal left her with and move on from because in truth, even if two months have passed, she does miss being with him which is what makes this whole thing worse.

She constantly catches her gaze drifting from the relationship that surrounds Anne and Captain Wentworth and their love story to the one sitting in front of her.

It's funny how it feels so natural sitting across from him in their little compartment; how it feels as if no time has passed since their argument and she kicked him out of the apartment. She isn't surprised in the slightest that he's listening to music - no doubt one of the jazz musicians he enjoys. Or the way his fingers silently tap against his thigh absentmindedly to the tune of the song.

The atmosphere surrounding him is so relaxed and familiar that her deepest desires - the ones buried within her - slowly rise to the surface and wrap around her heart. Her mind strays away from the world of Anne Elliot and invents another where Soul rests his head in her lap and she soothingly runs her fingers through his hair while she reads. A world where they're together and content; a world that's familiar and comfortable. A world that doesn't exist at all in that moment because they aren't any of these things.

They're two exes who have separated on mutual grounds and are traveling to another city for the sole purpose of appeasing his family.

For the sole purpose of saving face.

That's what this trip is about. It isn't about rekindling her relationship with an old flame - an old flame that's only been an old flame for two months.

This isn't a trip that's similar to her book or a cheesy romance film.

This is real life, and in real life, exe's aren't meant to stay exe's.

No matter how much her heart begs to differ.