.Simple Touches.
That point to where you can't possibly hold a person any tighter but you try anyways. You try because every fiber of your being is calling for that other and close just isn't going to cut it. Closer turns to closest and it's still not enough to satisfy; you want to feel them, feel every last bit even down to the last crevasse on their body. You want to feel it, you have to feel it. The attraction is just too much for one to handle alone, that's why you must share the feeling…
He wanted it, wanted it more than anything-the touch the feeling…! It was maddening!
Your fingers slowly roam long, smooth thighs, fingers finding ticklish spots you never even knew could be ticklish. One of your thumbs comes to a rest just barely above her knee; slowly you begin to move it around in a circular motion earning a soft moan from your partner as she begins to relax more and more into the hold you have around her. You are grinning smugly as you gain entry beneath her usual neatly tucked shirt, rough hands sliding up soft porcelain skin stopping right below the naval as your pointer finger pays the same attention her knee was receiving only moments before. But it loses interest moments later wanting to continue exploring the new territory it's been given access to. All fingers participate as they began to stretch across the span of her stomach, scratching and rubbing small indentations present in her skin.
Her body, full of scars, was strangely enticing. Every hand run across her flat stomach received a new finding and proceeded to study it with a strange/sick/ fascination. He greedily took in her body and his finding permanently locking it's sight and feel away into a part of his mind saved for a night when he would be alone and seeking self-pleasure…
The discoveries are endless you summarize. There is too much your trying to discover in such a little amount of time, Black*Star's going to be back in half an hour to unlock you two out of the janitor's closet and your partner would never forgive you if he opened the door to find you two in the position you are in now: her hips being straddled between your knees as you hunch over her frame mashing some of your weight onto her, not enough to squish her but enough to have you pleasantly close to one another. One hand roams her abdomen, feeling over scars a bumps and whatever else is there to discover across the silky, soft canvas of skin while the other is tightly clasped over her left cheek, groping and squeezing her firm ass. Your right hand is slowly inching towards dangerous territory, her black, lacy bra enclosing two plump mounds of flesh that have greatly sized in the elapse of time. You want to free the delicate breast from the prison and gentle squeeze and play with them, fondling them between your ever curious fingers but you don't. There's an unquenchable fear rising in the pit of your stomach because you know how your meister can get when it deals with her chest. She is so sensitive about them it's not even funny and you can't help but be blamed for part of that sensitivity-you and Black*Star have always make fun of them for how they lacked. But as of recently you've noticed how they've begun to fill out. What used to barely even be an A is began to become a B border lining a C! Now you know she'll never be a Liz, Patty, or Tsubaki and god help us if she were to ever become a Blair but for her small, lithe size her breasts seemed to have filled out just for her frame and it's perfect.
She's perfect.
And this is wrong…!
Naturally it's impossible for any person to be perfect but you find it the only word worthy of describing your meister. Of course she has her flaws, always nagging and yelling even if what you're doing is right-like the time you were ready to give your life for hers proceeding to take a fatal wound from your shoulder to you hip, she will never let either of you live that one down. Or how she takes anything to heart, how one stranger could convince her that she wasn't worthy of being your partner for example. You've never had the urge to hit a girl before but your partner surely could have used a punch to the jaw for listening to that bullshit, if anyone wasn't worthy it was you… but flaws and all she was still perfect. Perfection as herself and perfection as your meister, nothing anyone ever said would ever make you think or feel any other way.
His motive for pleasure is begging to subside as his ecstasy-filled mind starts to process what he's doing. The more he thinks the more he realizes he is ruining everything about his meister that he enjoys the most:
Her strong will and independence, he has her lying under him like a cat would a mouse, as the small mouse waits helplessly as the cat makes its final move…
Her innocence, because everything about her is pure and naïve and wreaking that with his actions would be like tearing a piece of her personality away from her and there is nothing in this world that he would ever want to change about her.
Her values as a person and more specifically as a young woman, she was the type of girl who never wanted to ever have to rely on a man. Because of her papa she was determined to be different; not slut around like her dear father did but be smart about relations making sure she was in love before giving herself away. She had spoken of abstinence once before too…
And most of all by following his dark intentions not only would he be ruining everything she was, but he'd also be ruining who they were as a team. The two of them against the world it had always been and that's the way he wanted it to stay. Satisfying himself would be the only thing he would gain out of this compromising position and no matter how much his body yearned for hers at this very moment giving up them wasn't an option.
And that's when you realize you love this girl.
Love. That is such a foreign concept to you that you begin to doubt that you do love her but then you stop yourself from doubting and truly take a moment to think about what that word really is. For one, any horny teenage boy who's willing to stop himself right before he's about to score must have a pretty good reason for stopping, and love seems like a very reasonable answer. For two, any teenage boy who is willing to throw away his life away just as it's starting to begin for a flat-chested, loud, annoying, bookworm must feel something towards that girl because that just wouldn't make sense otherwise. And for three, any guy who's willing to stick by a girl with a bad taste in music, who can't play basketball what-so-ever, who frowns upon video games, beats him up daily for no good reason, and has issues with the male proportion of the world must be in love, because love can be a one-sided thing and you're willing to stick it out and see if maybe she could love you back. You are not prepared to be heart-broken or anything of that nature, nobody ever is, but you wants to see how this ends up. You wants to see if the juvenile delinquent, who never does any work preferring to sleep instead, can end up with Bookworm, the star-student who does all of her work and then some, a person whose willing to help anyone and everyone and give her life for the people she loves.
"I'm sorry. You don't have to force yourself to enjoy this…"
That's when you realize that you've completely stopped moving for a good five minutes if not more, so deep in thought that you didn't even realize she had been talking to you until now. "…I'm sorry that a kissed you first, you must feel like you obligated as my partner to keep this going. But you don't have to, if you really don't like it that's fine. And if this makes things awkward between us we can always find new par—mhffmm!"
Your mouth presses against hers, swiftly but softly, forcing any of that nonsense she was just talking about back down her throat and out of her mind with any other thoughts she's come up with in your silence. Your lips are eager but gentle because you want this kiss to count. Your last kiss was fun, but it was wet and sloppy and reminded you nothing of your sweet, little, innocent meister. You are feeling privilege to have her pressed against your puffy, chapped lips again this time for a sweeter kiss. You slowly pull both of you up into a seated position, with her legs and back held gently in your arms while sitting in your lap. Her arms slowly slither around your neck pulling you closer to her mouth. You don't try to deepen the kiss, nor do you pull away, you just wait-wait until she's out of breath and needs to pull back which she does moments later.
He's in complete bliss. There's no words to describe the feelings he's experiencing now but his racing heart is enough to let anyone know he's happy. She is turning him into a complete sap…and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Her eyes are asking questions that she's too scared to voice; them and all their emerald glory flicker back and forth looking to both of your ruby ones and you decided it's time for you to finally speak, "Never."
She gives you the same questioning look, "The day I go and find a partner that isn't you is the day you die, and that's not going to happen anytime soon, not if I can help it."
You press her as close to your body as you can, one arm placed on the small of her back and the other wrapped around her shoulder pressing her closer and closer to you until she's the closest she can be. Her nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you faintly begin to hear the sound of soft sniffles.
He hopes she can understand how crazy she drives him just by her being her. He's not exactly ready to confess, to bluntly tell a person you love them was not an easy thing to do, hell, he didn't even tell his mother he loved her…but he is silently hoping he is giving of the right signals, how he is hers and nobody else's an how if another man so much as glances at her in a sexual way how he will proceed to beat his ass into next week. He would never stop her from dating other guys, but it doesn't mean he can't slug them a few times to make sure they behaved…
Your lips ease into a gentle smile, a smile she only gets to see because she's special and the smile is only meant for her. "You're stuck with me until either of us die, and I plan for that to be a very, very long time away."
She pulls back a little, her small cherry lips stretching into a grin you've only seen a few times. "You're the best partner a meister could ever ask for Soul!"
You, Soul Eater Evans, take your thumb and sweep her cheeks clear of any tears, "And you, Maka Albarn, are the best Meister any weapon could ever ask for."
And you enclose her into a hug once more, savoring the sweet feeling of her small form pressed against your larger one. Black*Star should be here any minute, he'll probably open the door and the endless teasing and mockeries will begin in the moments after he catches them in this position. Maka will then pull out a book from who knows where and beat him within an inch of his life before you take her hand in yours telling her that it's enough and that you two should go home and watch a movie or something for the rest of the evening. If she agrees then that's great, but if she doesn't and wants to kill Black*Star some more than that's fine too.
Either way you plan to not let go of her hand.
I will never let go of your hand, I will certainly never leave you behind, and I will never stop loving you, Maka Albarn.
A/N: Is this good? I read a story styled this way before (meaning in the 'you' point of view) and always wanted to try it...I know that it's mothers day and I should upload something motherly but I this came into mind instead...? I don't know.
Don't ask me why Black*Star locked them in the Janitor's closet, I leave that for you to consider. And be honest, if it's bad tell me it's bad, if there's mistakes tell me there's mistakes, and if you like, well I'm glad one of us do. xD
R&&R, that's all I am asking for.(:
Happy Mothers Day!
-Rawrsuzie