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Summary:
It was just going to be another miserable night in Soul's life. He had an extensive list of them. Drinking away his sorrows until- Sea Glass. It was the first thing he noticed about her. Green eyes as bright as Sea Glass held up to the sun, and as lonely as he felt. Maybe it wasn't just another night.
Notes:
This started out inspired by Lonely Eyes by Chris Young, but got off-course pretty quickly. (Line-break near the end is the fic-epilogue line.) As always: Let me know what you think and all ideas welcome.
(And just in case there's any confusion, Sea Glass\beach glass is glass -most famously green, but also other colors- that comes from when bottles, or just any glass objects, are broken and swept away in the surf. The sand and water will wear away at them until -usually- they're smooth. Very pretty stuff.)
Soul sighed and raised his beer back to his lips. Just another pathetically typical night in a long, never-ending line of them. Just another disappointment he'd drink off at Death Scythe like a hundred times before. It was getting to the point he could almost see what was about to happen with the other regulars before it did.
To his right, he counted down the sneer that meant- and there it was, a disallowed cigar was pulled out from the ridiculously fluffy-collared white coat. The bartender seemed to have the same sense as Soul himself, not even turning around, "Giriko, you know I don't allow smoking in the bar. Take it outside."
Teeth as sharp and shark-like as Soul's own reflected in the amber light as Giriko leered at the blonde even as he lit up, "C'mon, Law, lay off for once."
Justin pointed to the door, "Out."
Giriko scoffed, but headed out, blowing a huge puff of smoke out just at the door to mock the blonde. Soul's red eyes were more focused on who came in when he went out, a woman ducking expertly under his arm, apparently not bothered in the least by the cloud of smoke she walked through, stopping just inside to scan the room a few times for an empty seat. She paid no mind to the catcalls and vulgar jokes that rang out from several corners of the crowded bar at the unusual sight of her. They didn't often get women in here, and certainly not women like that.
She wore something far more suited to a date at one of the high-end cafes on the other side of town than slumming it at an overcrowded bar on Death Street: a black dress that clung to her and stopped just past her knees, long black gloves going up beyond her elbows, something dark and gauzy and see-through starting where the black material ended above her breasts. She looked... not all that different from Soul himself, still dressed in the black tux he'd put on for his performance. Maybe she'd had just as bad a night as he had and hadn't felt like going home to a hauntingly empty place just to change to drink off her sorrows.
Or maybe he should stop projecting his problems on random strangers at the bar.
He turned back to his alcohol, freezing just a moment when, out of an entire establishment of possible places to sit, she chose the empty stool right next to his own at the bar, raising a delicate finger to catch Justin's attention and ordering a glass of red wine- and leave the bottle, please. Maybe Soul's assessment hadn't been as far off as he'd thought. Soul couldn't help wondering just what she was looking for- because everyone who found their way to Death Scythe was ultimately looking for something, even if they didn't know it.
It was one of the reasons Soul himself came here, looking to avoid his problems by watching others. He didn't know what Giriko had come here looking for, but he was pretty sure the rude man had found it in Justin- even if his only method of flirting was endlessly annoying the usually unruffled blond bartender. He remembered the first time he'd found this place, dragged out by BlackStar, who had apparently found his own 'something' in the asymmetrically striped guy who had also been dragged out unwillingly by the two blond girls that had bookended him. After a drinking contest and aided escape- with BlackStar volunteering Soul as the bait, of course- well, they made a good couple even if that wasn't Soul's thing. Turned out he hadn't needed to do much distracting in the end anyhow: Liz had been far too enraptured talking with Tsubaki to even notice Kid had slipped away.
Soul still didn't know what exactly he was looking for, besides the temporary escape from his life issues he found only here. He usually distracted himself from those thoughts by figuring out what others were looking for. Which brought him right back to the ash-blonde at his side, swirling the wine in her glass and staring at it like it held all the mysteries of the universe in its depths. Giriko strolled back in, tossing one of his half-assed, wholly rude pick-up lines her way, a single dismissing glance at her small bust before turning all his attention to Justin as the blond's back tensed.
Surprising -probably both of them- she rolled with it and turned him down with a painfully rigid smile before casually checking her phone and putting it -screen down- on the bar with a sigh. Compared to the screeching and, at times, physical violence Giriko usually instigated without a thought, it was a strange breath of fresh air. She finally looked up from the polished surface of the bar and looked around the room again, catching Soul's gaze before slipping away.
He focused back on his own drink, trying firmly to get the image of those eyes out of his head. They were beautiful, the perfect shade of green, really, like beach glass, and just as potentially sharp. He mentally scoffed at his flowery thoughts and took a swing of his beer, grimacing. He'd been lost in thought too long: it had grown warm.
He could see it already, his night was going to end like so many before it if nothing changed: He'd drink himself into a stupor in an effort to forget his goddamned parents -really, if they didn't like his fucking playing, the least they could do is, oh, not come to the death-bedamned recitals for fuck's sake- and absolutely perfect brother who he didn't measure up against despite being internationally renowned because he wasn't Wes and would never be good enough because of it and who the hell would even look at him with his perfect brother there? Of course his music only appealed to the younger Generation Chaos and couldn't compare to the ageless grace of his brother. He snorted in derision. Once he'd downed enough to at least make all that a foggy background noise, he'd have Justin call him a cab, fix his tab and pour himself into the taxi so he could go home to his empty apartment and stare out at the city and contemplate just how big a splatter he'd make if he threw himself from his penthouse suite until his consciousness slipped away in a lovely alcohol-induced blackout. Call BlackStar early in the morning just to piss him and Kid off by interrupting their morning make-out session to pick up his bike and bring it to him.
Just like every other post-concert or recital night of his pathetic life. Giriko would still be bugging the blond behind the bar, never working up the balls to actually ask him out like he did every passing skirt just to get Justin jealous, scar-faced prick in the corner would never work out that the pinkette on the opposite side of the place was watching him out of fascination instead of fear, and- sea glass.
He paused again, caught on those entrancing eyes before they slid away again. Soul's fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle, wanting them to land on him again. To stay, to see. For once, he wanted someone to just look at him and fucking see. He wanted her to be that someone. This girl who came in, not the least bothered by noise and ruckus and smoke, who sat next to the sulking albino in a suit and ordered a bottle of wine she obviously intended to finish off all by her lonesome. Who wore her hair up in what could so easily be a mockery of school-girl style pony tails, but somehow managed elegance with black ribbon instead.
Soul didn't even have to question himself on why her, because he already knew. Aside from being bright and gorgeous and startlingly green, her eyes looked just as lonely as his. He saw just a bit of himself in her eyes, and he wanted to know if she saw the same in him.
Soul shook his head and stared down at the polished wooden surface. The booze has obviously gotten to me. What the hell was he even thinking? He glanced over at her without moving his head. Despite everything, despite himself, Soul caught himself wishing for something for the first time in a very long time. The next time they strayed his way, he could only hope he'd be able to make them stay.
Death help him, he sounded like a creeper. Soul gave up on his warm beer and put it out where Justin would grab it and replace it with a cold one on his next round. What the hell did he care if he was wasting? He had the money to spare. He briefly considered tossing the bottle at the nearest wall to shatter in a satisfying explosion of glass and alcohol before giving up on the notion. It'd just get him tossed for the night and he wasn't even buzzed yet. And from the sound of it, the patrons behind him were already getting rowdy enough all on their own without him adding to the problem.
Justin turned their way, the bottle disappearing, but instead of replacing it, the blond's baby blues turned to him, "Soul, I know you just got done tonight, but do you think you could play something to distract them?" he nodded out to the sea of boisterous bar-goers.
He thought about turning it down. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done a gig for Death Scythe, but only when he hadn't come from an actual recital: he usually preferred to sulk and drink away his issues then. But, hell, it wasn't like he was at all impaired, and maybe some actual appreciation for his work would do some good. It was a change, at least, a difference from the impending same end to the night as all the previous ones. "What the hell, why not?" The grand piano in the corner never got any use if it wasn't by him anyway.
Soul stood up, unable to stop himself from checking on her, but she was too busy checking her phone, flipping through screen after screen almost frantically, to notice his perusal, finally setting it back down with a sigh that sounded like it came from the very bottom of her soul, tracing designs over her wine glass. Surprisingly, he couldn't manage to keep his mind off of her even as he moved through the crowd to sit at the instrument that usually captured his attention so completely. Whether it was because of her on her own, or just his mindset of playing twice in one night he couldn't be sure, but it was different.
For just an instant before his fingers touched the keys, Soul's mind was utterly and completely blank, unable to decide on what to play without sheet music in front of him, but one more look towards the lowered head of ash-blond hair, and he suddenly knew exactly what he was going to play. There is no past or future when Soul played, there was only the piano and the moment. He wouldn't have had it any other way.
His fingers crash into the keys with no grace, a cacophony of disharmonious sound that cuts off most of the discussions in the room, and before they could start back up, it's already changed. A dark, harsh melody that fits only here, in this place of searching, of escape. Disappointment and loneliness, anticipation and excitement, anger and irritation; they all echo through his mind, down his arms and come out through the piano. It's a tune that would be perfectly at home to a background accompaniment of breaking bottles and overturned tables.
It's like Soul: Dark, raw, with ragged edges and parts missing. No one complains, no one approaches or asks him to play something different. Giriko is leaned against the wall by the bar, watching Justin's every move as the blond's movements echo the melody. In the back corner, a scar stretches as the man it belongs to smiles ferally, tossing back a shot. And from the moment his fingers touch the keys, Soul can feel her gaze on him, unflinching, unmoving.
He just can't find it in him to give a fuck anymore, he's so sick of playing the same old songs, the same old game, tired of searching. Soul puts all his pain and loneliness into his song, the nights he's spent staring out over the city, caught in the insignificant lights that seem so small at a distance, of returning time and again to an empty apartment with no hope of anything, anyone, filling that void, of the bitterness that he hides from seeing his friends all happy when he's constantly left behind. Of nights spent with the lights off just because he can't stand to look at himself sometimes because he won't be able to see him, only the mistakes and failures others have heaped on his shoulders.
It's a harsh song, with sudden breaks and crashes like thunder on a stormy night, notes that harmonize before clashing together roughly, chaotically, perfectly. Soul lets it all out, and by the end, he feels... hollow, empty, and his last few notes trail off into silence that isn't nothingness like it could be, but instead a silence of waiting, of expectation, and his arms fall to his sides as he savors it.
When he finally got his head out of the post-playing cloud, the room was back to it's usual level of noise and chaos, and Justin was once again threatening to toss Giriko out if he lit up another cigar inside. Soul couldn't help smirking and shaking his head because it was all the same- only... it didn't feel quite as confining as it had before. He got up, stuffed his hands in his pocket, and made his way back to his seat.
Sea Glass-green eyes never left him as he moved. Soul looked up at her directly, neither of them shying away- until her phone rang. She picked it up to look at the screen, grimaced, silenced it, and put it back down on the bar. "What do you do when you get invited on a date, only to show up and see them kissing someone else?"
Soul rested his elbow on the wooden surface as she played with her half-empty wine glass, "Depends. Has food been ordered and delivered yet?"
"Dinner and the wine."
"Then I'd dump the dish on their head -bonus points if it's pasta or some kind of soup- grab the booze, and stalk off."
She smiled into her glass, "Ah, I knew I'd forgotten something."
Soul smirked at her, showing off pointy teeth that she didn't flinch from, "Kay, my turn, then. What do you do if your parents try to control your life by telling you how much you suck at every opportunity?"
"Move. Run away, become famous, and send them a post card of you in front of a stadium -or auditorium- of your many fans who all love you?"
Soul ran his hands through his hair, "Always thought I'd missed a step somewhere along the way." She giggled and he held out his hand, "It's Soul, by the way. Soul Eater."
She reached for his hand, then hesitated. Green eyes flicked down to her long black gloves before she frowned and tore them off, offering her bare hand, "Maka Albarn."
"Well, Maka, at risk of sounding like a stereotypical bar-goer in search of a one-night stand: want to get out of here?"
"That entirely depends: are you a stereotypical bar-goer in search of a one-night stand?"
"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"
She opened her mouth -whether to accept or decline or argue he wasn't sure- when her phone rang again. Maka huffed, turned it off and stuffed it in her purse, then turned back to him with a smile as brilliant as her eyes, "Sure. What's life without a little risk?"
Soul motioned for Justin and the blond waved him off, knowing he was good for it, so Soul pointed to Maka as well, then got up and held out his hand to her, "C'mon, let's get out of here." Maka put her hand in his, trusting him, and his fingers curled over hers, pulling her up and out the door where his motorcycle waited. It was cool outside and Soul didn't even think about it before he took off the pinstriped jacket and held it out to her.
Maka looked at it and back up to him, "But... won't you be colder sitting in front?"
He shrugged, "Maybe, but I also have pants."
She blushed -and he noted it suited her amazingly, just like her eyes and ponytails and that dress- and slipped it on, the shoulders way too wide for her and it really looked kind of adorable... Soul turned around to hide his grin as she pouted at swimming in the new layer of clothing.
Maka watched him as he started the bike, looked down at her ill-advised high-heels, then kicked them off, uncaring if she never found them again, and tossed her leg over the bike, the bottom of her dress raising but just loose enough not to hike up dangerously, wrapping her arms around Soul. She pressed her face to his back as the motorcycle purred beneath them and he took off, weaving out into traffic without even looking first.
His voice filtered back to her as they raced down the asphalt at the very upper end of the speed limit, "You good back there?"
She wasn't willing to actually look, but nodded against him, "Uh-huh..." Then she raised her voice, "What's life without a little risk?"
Soul grinned back over his shoulder at her and revved the bike up, then pushed them even faster, taking a turn off the main road to weave in and out through the city streets at breakneck speeds. By the time Maka had convinced herself they weren't going to crash and die horribly and mustered her courage enough to peek up over his shoulder she'd discovered he had a very pleasant scent even after half a night spent in the bar. It was... exhilarating on the back of the bike. Leaning into the turns with Soul, feeling his muscles flex under her fingers, feeling the vibration through his chest when he threw back his head and laughed as she told him to go faster.
The dark scenery was a blur around them, lights flicking past almost before they could be seen, leaving multi-colored streaks of light at the edges of the night as they rode past. The wind tore at them, whipping Maka's hair about and flapping her dress against her thighs, the chill air numbing her face and legs. And Maka couldn't care less, because even numb from the cold, she could feel the huge smile on her face. When they turned onto a straight-away, she let go of Soul carefully, leaning back to look up at the stars overhead, holding her arms out.
Soul's laughter drifted back to her, "Crazy woman!" He tapped the brake to jolt her forward, her arms going around him instinctively and her heart hammering in her chest.
Maka couldn't even scowl at him for almost giving her a heart-attack. She leaned forward and bit his arm sharply, before beaming back, "Then we're a perfect fit!"
Soul jerked from her nip, sending them swerving into another of the empty lanes, the sharp retort he tossed back to her was lost in the sound of her giggling as she pressed herself against him and leaned with him into the turn to put them back on track.
Eventually, they wound up parked at a closed cafe across from a park separated by a wide, stone footbridge. Soul leaned back against the railing and leaned his head back, almost far enough to see his reflection in the waterway below, Maka carefully walking on the opposite railing with her arms -still sheathed in his jacket- out for balance. He turned his attention from the water to her, "So, what's your story?"
Maka looked at him from the corner of her eye without turning her focus from the next step in front of her, "Not much to tell, really. My best friend set me up on that date I asked you about. It was stupid, I told her I didn't even need a boyfriend anyway. What was the point? I'm a professional student: I'm working on getting my fourth Master's Degree and I work part-time at a book shop. Who'd be interested in me? I'm, I mean... it's not like when I was a teenager: I'm done growing, my boobs are never getting any bigger than this. Really, all I need are a pair of glasses to complete the whole spinster image. I even have a cat. What about you?"
Soul shrugged, "Eh, not much to me, either. Perfect brother, perfect parents, perfect lifestyle... and then there's me." He grinned to show off his teeth, "Who is just so very not-perfect thank you muchly. What's there to say?"
"I love your playing."
"It's not that great."
"It's fantastic! Your playing is amazing. Why don't you have a record deal or something?"
"Kinda do... I mean, I play plenty, and I've got money and a nice apartment and a view of the city you can't beat. Got great friends..."
"And it's hard to stop the thought of tossing yourself into the river from the highest point you can find?"
He looked up at her sharply and saw her frowning at her foot as she placed it precisely in front of the other, "I've never met anyone like me before. I'm surrounded by so many happy people, or angry people, or just... just people, and I have friends and we talk and go out and I just feel..."
"Alone."
"Yeah."
"Well I've certainly never met someone like you before, either." She smiled down at him for the joke and he smirked back, "Never saw a girl put up with Giriko without trying to kill him, or just walking through that cloud of smoke like you did without coughing or anything."
"My dad and his... partner, both smoke all the time, so I'm used to that. And my dad was also this huge flirt that chased after every skirt he saw, so I'm used to both those things."
" 'Used to'? So he doesn't anymore?"
She shook her head, "No. Stein would strap him to a table and do all sorts of things to him if he did."
"You sound way too happy about that."
Maka grinned at him and then almost gave him a heart-attack by spinning around in place and walking backwards on the railing, "Maybe a little. My dad likes to act like this big... goof, this unreliable person. But he's actually really sweet, and he loves me to bits- has to, since, you know, he's doing most of the funding for my schooling."
"What about your mom?"
"She... she died. A long time ago. I thought she'd left us, gone to travel the world because she was sick of dad's fooling around. I'd get post cards from all these amazing places talking about how much I was loved. A few years ago, I discovered that she had left us, and that her plane crashed and killed everyone aboard. The letter she'd left behind, all the post cards I'd gotten, they were all from my dad, pretending to be her, letting me hate him just so I wouldn't cry knowing that my mom had left me without a word and died trying to get away."
"Wow... That's... that's devotion."
"He's such an idiot. I'd rather have had those years with him."
Soul smiled, "Yeah, I've got a friend like that, too. Found me one night about to do something really stupid, stopped me, punched me for considering it, then took me out on the town to raise hell and have some fun. He's a complete goof-ball, too. 'Course, he was a bit more fun and tolerable to be around before-"
"He got into a relationship?"
"Yeah. Watching everyone around you getting twitterpated while being left behind completely sucks."
"Then let's get twitterpated."
Crimson eyes blinked, "Excuse me?"
Maka stood with a foot each on top of one of the stone-ball ornaments decorating the railing like she had supernatural weeble-wobble balance powers, hands on her hips, "I'm alone, you're alone. So let's be... not-alone, together. That's sound logic, right?"
Soul stared at her, at her determined face and stance, and threw his head back laughing. He hadn't laughed so much in a single night ever. Maka pouted at him, felt around in his jacket's pockets, then pulled out his cell phone and threw it at him in a huff. Soul only laughed harder, ducking out of the collision path and bent double as his phone plopped into the waterway below. Ah, that was worth it just for the story he'd have to share about how he lost the thing when Kid and BlackStar finally remembered the number to his landline in the morning.
He wiped his eyes and looked up when Maka gasped, "I'm so sorry! That was... your phone, wasn't it?"
And that set him off again.
"Stop laughing! I'm being serious!"
Soul gasped for breath, "Sorry, Maka. Ahhh, it's not a big deal. I've been wanting to do that myself for weeks now anyway."
She pulled out her own phone and looked at it, "You know what? Me, too." she held the white device out over the waterway and opened her hand, watching as it fell. She looked back to him and tilted her head in a way that sent warning bells ringing, "Hey, Soul..."
He arched a brow at her, "Yeah...?"
"You know one of the ways I was told that you could tell if a person is someone you can count on?"
"...If you toss their phone into a river and they don't get mad at you?"
"Nope. It's if they catch you when you fall."
He narrowed his eyes, "Don't even think about-"
"Catch me." She spun and let herself fall backwards.
Soul was across the distance in an instant, catching her as she fell back into his arms, "Oof." He glared down at her as she smiled at him, "You. Are. Insane."
"A bit." Little minx didn't even try to deny it! "Think that's a deal-breaker?"
"Sanity is vastly overrated."
Maka blinked at him, then giggled, ducking her head to his chest and snickering to herself. When she got herself under control again, Sea Glass eyes sparkled up at him, "Thank you, Soul."
He shrugged, jolting her whole frame like she weighed nothing and making her squeak and cling to him, "No problem, I'm cool like that."
"I've noticed."
"C'mere."
Maka cocked her head, "I don't think I can 'c'mere' any more than I am."
Soul proved her wrong by setting down her legs, half-turning, then hefting her up again so that he could hold her right leg with his right hand and grab her left leg with his left hand behind him, her breath rushing past his ear and her arms tightening around his shoulders from her new piggy-back position. "You were saying?"
"W-why did you do that?"
He shrugged again, "Maybe I just like the feel of your legs around me."
"Soul!" She smacked him over the head and he chuckled.
"Easy, there, Bright Eyes. I was kidding. I'm not looking for a one-night stand, just so you know."
She hugged him as well as she could as she laid her cheek on his shoulder, "I know... It wouldn't get rid of the loneliness anyway."
Soul's hands tightened on her legs, "Besides, I have to carry you like this if you don't want to ruin your stockings on the grass."
"Stupid stockings. Don't care if I ruin them. Shouldn't have worn this stupid dress in the first place. Uncomfortable, impractical- nearly killed myself in those dumb heels."
He smiled but held back his chuckle as she listed off all the faults in her outfit. They fell into a comfortable silence as Soul walked, Maka warm against his back as he moved across the grassy ground and through the trees of the park, Maka's breath puffing out across the nape of his neck. It was new, different, and entirely wonderful. Soul found himself thinking about Maka, what her dreams were, what her favorite foods would be, her favorite color. He was pretty sure his own had shifted to Sea Glass Green over the course of the night.
His parents had faded from his mind, their taunting and mocking words not even hollow echoes any longer, far overshadowed by the powerful, melodic sound of Maka's laughter in his thoughts. Strong and robust even when she giggled, not a tinkling little laugh, she gave herself over completely to it. Wes' pitying looks as he stood there and listened to their parents berate Soul, BlackStar and Kid's worried glances when they dropped off his bike after a night of binge-drinking; all of that was lost in Maka's smile, when her eyes sparkled in happiness from the dim hopelessness they'd held when he first saw them.
He felt her breath catch when he came to a stop. She rested her tiny chin on his shoulder as she stared out over the water of the man-made lake, a small waterfall feeding it before running through the waterway. The full moon low in the sky reflected on the still surface, and dozens of fireflies danced over the water, the glittering seeming to come from within when Soul turned his head to watch Maka watch the display.
She turned and caught him looking, not flinching away from his gaze. She looked down and smiled softly, "Oh, Soul..."
He grinned back, cock-eyed and sharp, "Like it?"
"I love it. Thank you." He shrugged and turned his head so she wouldn't catch his blush.
But he got the feeling she had anyway when she leaned forward and pressed their cheeks together, and he thought she might be blushing, too, because hers wasn't much cooler. She wiggled in place, and he let her down, her smaller hand finding his as she leaned against him.
Maka squeezed his hand, "Hey, Soul."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for this."
"It's cool."
"Yeah, you are. Hey."
"Yeah?"
Maka grinned up at him, "Race you back to the bike."
She took off running and he stood there gaping for a second before chasing after her, "Maka! Your stockings!"
"Fuck the stockings! Catch me~!"
Okay, that was kind of hot. His expression took on a feral quality and he put some effort into it, chasing her for all he was worth. Just when he thought he had her in his clutches, she made a sharp turn that shouldn't even have been possible, laughter taunting him playfully as she ducked behind a tree then peeked back out at him, sticking out her tongue.
He grabbed the nearest sapling and used it to adjust his angle, keeping almost all of his speed as he went after her. Maka feinted to the left and then darted right, but Soul was right on her heels. She tried to copy his move, but her hand slipped on the trunk and she stumbled. Soul ran headlong into her, wrapping his arms around her middle and sending them tumbling to the ground, rolling several times before stopping, breathless and covered in grass and dew. Maka panted on top of him, then leaned down and kissed him. Soul's hold on her went slack in shock- and the little minx used it to get away again.
He shot upright, galvanized by the tingling still on his lips, "Maka! Get back here!"
"Nope."
He took off after her as she hid behind another large tree. "Maka..."
"Yeess~?"
He sprinted around the tree, only to stop in confusion. She wasn't there. He turned around and went around the other direction. She couldn't possibly be predicting his movements well enough to be avoiding him... could she?
"Oh, Soooul..."
Wait a minute. That didn't sound like it came from behind the trunk, that sounded more like it was coming from... He looked up just in time to be dive-bombed and fell under her, "Oomph!"
She beamed down at him, "Got you."
He sat up and picked her up bridal style, "Mistake number one."
"Soul, put me down."
He echoed her earlier answer back at her: "Nope."
"Soul, put me down now. This is undignified."
"No... this is undignified." And he swung her up over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
"Soul!" she shrieked, flailing her legs ineffectually, stockings utterly ruined with grass, mud, and tiny rips.
"Yes, Maka?"
There was silence for a minute or two as he walked them back to the bike, then, finally, "I'm sorry. You won. I'm sorry I cheated." He smiled in victory and set her back on her feet, only for her to smirk up at him, "Not sorry I kissed you, though."
Soul shook his head and took her hand, "Come on, you."
"Where are we going?"
"Home."
Maka didn't argue, didn't ask if he meant his home or hers, didn't complain. She only held his hand tighter and let him lead her back to the motorcycle. She got on after he started the bike, holding him from behind as he set off at a pace that actually even sorta-kinda kept to the speed limit... well, mostly. They wove through the streets in companionable silence as twilight broke over the city, turning the black sky dawn-gray and purple.
"Soul?"
He barely even noticed the gentle, happy smile on his face, "Hmm? What is it?"
"What made you even notice me? In the bar. I was just one more girl coming in from a bad day. What made me stand out?"
"Your eyes. They caught me."
"My eyes? A million people have eyes the exact same color."
They leaned into a turn together, "It wasn't the color-" though he loved that about them, too, "they were like mine: Lonely eyes."
She nuzzled between his shoulders, "They're not... not anymore."
One of his hands left the handles to thread their fingers together and squeeze, "Mine, either."
Soul pulled the handset away from his ear with a wince, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FOUND A GIRLFRIEND!?"
He scowled at the phone, "Am I speaking French? What part of that did you find difficult to grasp?" Maka giggled from the doorway to the kitchen where she stood making breakfast in the mid-morning light, wearing nothing but one of Soul's long-sleeved white shirts. He grinned at her before going back to his idiot- er, best friend, rather, "Did I somehow mistakenly give out gay-vibes I was unaware of? What's the issue here?"
"WHAT-"
Kid apparently plucked the phone from BlackStar's hold and monopolized it for himself if BlackStar's ranting in the background was any indication, "I think what he meant was-"
"I'm serious! Give me back the phone!"
"I will not, you'll just shout again."
"It's my phone, Kid! And that's my best friend, I'll shout if I want to!"
"If you can't be responsible then you don't deserve phone privileges."
"Quit treating me like I'm freaking ten!"
"Then quit acting like it!"
Soul just sighed and cocked his hip, Maka coming up and listening to the conversation by putting her ear to the other side of the phone -as if she had to be that close to hear the commotion- but he leaned down obligingly anyway and she covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the giggling.
"Um, hi? I'm Soul's girlfriend, Maka. You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here..."
There was a crash -BlackStar tackling his boyfriend to the ground?- before a shout came over the line, "HOW DID SOUL MANAGE TO GET YOU?!"
"BlackStar! Get off of me!"
"That's not what you were saying last night~!"
Soul face-palmed while Maka blushed beside him, her lips twitching, "What can I say? He was just too cool to refuse."
"I TOLD YOU SO! YOU OWE ME!"
"GET OFF!"
"NEVAR! WHA-!" And another crash.
Soul got the impression of Kid standing up and straightening his outfit- it was just a very Kid-Thing to do, "We're happy for you. Lovely to meet you, Maka."
"You, too, Kid. Here, talk to Soul more, I have to go finish breakfast."
"Would you like to join us for lunch?"
She looked up at Soul, who shrugged, it didn't matter to him one way or the other. She'd have to get used to them eventually. "Sure thing. Bye, now." she paused for a moment, then, "BYE, BLACKSTAR!"
There was a quieter, "Bye, Maka!" from the other end of the line -what the fuck? Had Kid locked his boyfriend in the closet just to get the goddamned phone? ...Actually, yeah, that sounded like something they'd do- followed by a distressed sound from Kid who'd gotten the brunt of the verbal assault.
"She suits you well."
"...Why do you make that sound like an insult?"
Kid stopped the joking and got serious, "Does this mean no more binge-trips out to Death Scythe every other week?"
Soul switched the phone to his other ear and peeked into the kitchen, watching Maka meddle around, humming under her breath and moving in time to one of his songs playing on the radio. He pulled back and smiled, "Yeah. I found what I was looking for."

Description
Summary:
It was just going to be another miserable night in Soul's life. He had an extensive list of them. Drinking away his sorrows until- Sea Glass. It was the first thing he noticed about her. Green eyes as bright as Sea Glass held up to the sun, and as lonely as he felt. Maybe it wasn't just another night.
Notes:
This started out inspired by Lonely Eyes by Chris Young, but got off-course pretty quickly. (Line-break near the end is the fic-epilogue line.) As always: Let me know what you think and all ideas welcome.
(And just in case there's any confusion, Sea Glass\beach glass is glass -most famously green, but also other colors- that comes from when bottles, or just any glass objects, are broken and swept away in the surf. The sand and water will wear away at them until -usually- they're smooth. Very pretty stuff.)
Soul sighed and raised his beer back to his lips. Just another pathetically typical night in a long, never-ending line of them. Just another disappointment he'd drink off at Death Scythe like a hundred times before. It was getting to the point he could almost see what was about to happen with the other regulars before it did.
To his right, he counted down the sneer that meant- and there it was, a disallowed cigar was pulled out from the ridiculously fluffy-collared white coat. The bartender seemed to have the same sense as Soul himself, not even turning around, "Giriko, you know I don't allow smoking in the bar. Take it outside."
Teeth as sharp and shark-like as Soul's own reflected in the amber light as Giriko leered at the blonde even as he lit up, "C'mon, Law, lay off for once."
Justin pointed to the door, "Out."
Giriko scoffed, but headed out, blowing a huge puff of smoke out just at the door to mock the blonde. Soul's red eyes were more focused on who came in when he went out, a woman ducking expertly under his arm, apparently not bothered in the least by the cloud of smoke she walked through, stopping just inside to scan the room a few times for an empty seat. She paid no mind to the catcalls and vulgar jokes that rang out from several corners of the crowded bar at the unusual sight of her. They didn't often get women in here, and certainly not women like that.
She wore something far more suited to a date at one of the high-end cafes on the other side of town than slumming it at an overcrowded bar on Death Street: a black dress that clung to her and stopped just past her knees, long black gloves going up beyond her elbows, something dark and gauzy and see-through starting where the black material ended above her breasts. She looked... not all that different from Soul himself, still dressed in the black tux he'd put on for his performance. Maybe she'd had just as bad a night as he had and hadn't felt like going home to a hauntingly empty place just to change to drink off her sorrows.
Or maybe he should stop projecting his problems on random strangers at the bar.
He turned back to his alcohol, freezing just a moment when, out of an entire establishment of possible places to sit, she chose the empty stool right next to his own at the bar, raising a delicate finger to catch Justin's attention and ordering a glass of red wine- and leave the bottle, please. Maybe Soul's assessment hadn't been as far off as he'd thought. Soul couldn't help wondering just what she was looking for- because everyone who found their way to Death Scythe was ultimately looking for something, even if they didn't know it.
It was one of the reasons Soul himself came here, looking to avoid his problems by watching others. He didn't know what Giriko had come here looking for, but he was pretty sure the rude man had found it in Justin- even if his only method of flirting was endlessly annoying the usually unruffled blond bartender. He remembered the first time he'd found this place, dragged out by BlackStar, who had apparently found his own 'something' in the asymmetrically striped guy who had also been dragged out unwillingly by the two blond girls that had bookended him. After a drinking contest and aided escape- with BlackStar volunteering Soul as the bait, of course- well, they made a good couple even if that wasn't Soul's thing. Turned out he hadn't needed to do much distracting in the end anyhow: Liz had been far too enraptured talking with Tsubaki to even notice Kid had slipped away.
Soul still didn't know what exactly he was looking for, besides the temporary escape from his life issues he found only here. He usually distracted himself from those thoughts by figuring out what others were looking for. Which brought him right back to the ash-blonde at his side, swirling the wine in her glass and staring at it like it held all the mysteries of the universe in its depths. Giriko strolled back in, tossing one of his half-assed, wholly rude pick-up lines her way, a single dismissing glance at her small bust before turning all his attention to Justin as the blond's back tensed.
Surprising -probably both of them- she rolled with it and turned him down with a painfully rigid smile before casually checking her phone and putting it -screen down- on the bar with a sigh. Compared to the screeching and, at times, physical violence Giriko usually instigated without a thought, it was a strange breath of fresh air. She finally looked up from the polished surface of the bar and looked around the room again, catching Soul's gaze before slipping away.
He focused back on his own drink, trying firmly to get the image of those eyes out of his head. They were beautiful, the perfect shade of green, really, like beach glass, and just as potentially sharp. He mentally scoffed at his flowery thoughts and took a swing of his beer, grimacing. He'd been lost in thought too long: it had grown warm.
He could see it already, his night was going to end like so many before it if nothing changed: He'd drink himself into a stupor in an effort to forget his goddamned parents -really, if they didn't like his fucking playing, the least they could do is, oh, not come to the death-bedamned recitals for fuck's sake- and absolutely perfect brother who he didn't measure up against despite being internationally renowned because he wasn't Wes and would never be good enough because of it and who the hell would even look at him with his perfect brother there? Of course his music only appealed to the younger Generation Chaos and couldn't compare to the ageless grace of his brother. He snorted in derision. Once he'd downed enough to at least make all that a foggy background noise, he'd have Justin call him a cab, fix his tab and pour himself into the taxi so he could go home to his empty apartment and stare out at the city and contemplate just how big a splatter he'd make if he threw himself from his penthouse suite until his consciousness slipped away in a lovely alcohol-induced blackout. Call BlackStar early in the morning just to piss him and Kid off by interrupting their morning make-out session to pick up his bike and bring it to him.
Just like every other post-concert or recital night of his pathetic life. Giriko would still be bugging the blond behind the bar, never working up the balls to actually ask him out like he did every passing skirt just to get Justin jealous, scar-faced prick in the corner would never work out that the pinkette on the opposite side of the place was watching him out of fascination instead of fear, and- sea glass.
He paused again, caught on those entrancing eyes before they slid away again. Soul's fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle, wanting them to land on him again. To stay, to see. For once, he wanted someone to just look at him and fucking see. He wanted her to be that someone. This girl who came in, not the least bothered by noise and ruckus and smoke, who sat next to the sulking albino in a suit and ordered a bottle of wine she obviously intended to finish off all by her lonesome. Who wore her hair up in what could so easily be a mockery of school-girl style pony tails, but somehow managed elegance with black ribbon instead.
Soul didn't even have to question himself on why her, because he already knew. Aside from being bright and gorgeous and startlingly green, her eyes looked just as lonely as his. He saw just a bit of himself in her eyes, and he wanted to know if she saw the same in him.
Soul shook his head and stared down at the polished wooden surface. The booze has obviously gotten to me. What the hell was he even thinking? He glanced over at her without moving his head. Despite everything, despite himself, Soul caught himself wishing for something for the first time in a very long time. The next time they strayed his way, he could only hope he'd be able to make them stay.
Death help him, he sounded like a creeper. Soul gave up on his warm beer and put it out where Justin would grab it and replace it with a cold one on his next round. What the hell did he care if he was wasting? He had the money to spare. He briefly considered tossing the bottle at the nearest wall to shatter in a satisfying explosion of glass and alcohol before giving up on the notion. It'd just get him tossed for the night and he wasn't even buzzed yet. And from the sound of it, the patrons behind him were already getting rowdy enough all on their own without him adding to the problem.
Justin turned their way, the bottle disappearing, but instead of replacing it, the blond's baby blues turned to him, "Soul, I know you just got done tonight, but do you think you could play something to distract them?" he nodded out to the sea of boisterous bar-goers.
He thought about turning it down. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done a gig for Death Scythe, but only when he hadn't come from an actual recital: he usually preferred to sulk and drink away his issues then. But, hell, it wasn't like he was at all impaired, and maybe some actual appreciation for his work would do some good. It was a change, at least, a difference from the impending same end to the night as all the previous ones. "What the hell, why not?" The grand piano in the corner never got any use if it wasn't by him anyway.
Soul stood up, unable to stop himself from checking on her, but she was too busy checking her phone, flipping through screen after screen almost frantically, to notice his perusal, finally setting it back down with a sigh that sounded like it came from the very bottom of her soul, tracing designs over her wine glass. Surprisingly, he couldn't manage to keep his mind off of her even as he moved through the crowd to sit at the instrument that usually captured his attention so completely. Whether it was because of her on her own, or just his mindset of playing twice in one night he couldn't be sure, but it was different.
For just an instant before his fingers touched the keys, Soul's mind was utterly and completely blank, unable to decide on what to play without sheet music in front of him, but one more look towards the lowered head of ash-blond hair, and he suddenly knew exactly what he was going to play. There is no past or future when Soul played, there was only the piano and the moment. He wouldn't have had it any other way.
His fingers crash into the keys with no grace, a cacophony of disharmonious sound that cuts off most of the discussions in the room, and before they could start back up, it's already changed. A dark, harsh melody that fits only here, in this place of searching, of escape. Disappointment and loneliness, anticipation and excitement, anger and irritation; they all echo through his mind, down his arms and come out through the piano. It's a tune that would be perfectly at home to a background accompaniment of breaking bottles and overturned tables.
It's like Soul: Dark, raw, with ragged edges and parts missing. No one complains, no one approaches or asks him to play something different. Giriko is leaned against the wall by the bar, watching Justin's every move as the blond's movements echo the melody. In the back corner, a scar stretches as the man it belongs to smiles ferally, tossing back a shot. And from the moment his fingers touch the keys, Soul can feel her gaze on him, unflinching, unmoving.
He just can't find it in him to give a fuck anymore, he's so sick of playing the same old songs, the same old game, tired of searching. Soul puts all his pain and loneliness into his song, the nights he's spent staring out over the city, caught in the insignificant lights that seem so small at a distance, of returning time and again to an empty apartment with no hope of anything, anyone, filling that void, of the bitterness that he hides from seeing his friends all happy when he's constantly left behind. Of nights spent with the lights off just because he can't stand to look at himself sometimes because he won't be able to see him, only the mistakes and failures others have heaped on his shoulders.
It's a harsh song, with sudden breaks and crashes like thunder on a stormy night, notes that harmonize before clashing together roughly, chaotically, perfectly. Soul lets it all out, and by the end, he feels... hollow, empty, and his last few notes trail off into silence that isn't nothingness like it could be, but instead a silence of waiting, of expectation, and his arms fall to his sides as he savors it.
When he finally got his head out of the post-playing cloud, the room was back to it's usual level of noise and chaos, and Justin was once again threatening to toss Giriko out if he lit up another cigar inside. Soul couldn't help smirking and shaking his head because it was all the same- only... it didn't feel quite as confining as it had before. He got up, stuffed his hands in his pocket, and made his way back to his seat.
Sea Glass-green eyes never left him as he moved. Soul looked up at her directly, neither of them shying away- until her phone rang. She picked it up to look at the screen, grimaced, silenced it, and put it back down on the bar. "What do you do when you get invited on a date, only to show up and see them kissing someone else?"
Soul rested his elbow on the wooden surface as she played with her half-empty wine glass, "Depends. Has food been ordered and delivered yet?"
"Dinner and the wine."
"Then I'd dump the dish on their head -bonus points if it's pasta or some kind of soup- grab the booze, and stalk off."
She smiled into her glass, "Ah, I knew I'd forgotten something."
Soul smirked at her, showing off pointy teeth that she didn't flinch from, "Kay, my turn, then. What do you do if your parents try to control your life by telling you how much you suck at every opportunity?"
"Move. Run away, become famous, and send them a post card of you in front of a stadium -or auditorium- of your many fans who all love you?"
Soul ran his hands through his hair, "Always thought I'd missed a step somewhere along the way." She giggled and he held out his hand, "It's Soul, by the way. Soul Eater."
She reached for his hand, then hesitated. Green eyes flicked down to her long black gloves before she frowned and tore them off, offering her bare hand, "Maka Albarn."
"Well, Maka, at risk of sounding like a stereotypical bar-goer in search of a one-night stand: want to get out of here?"
"That entirely depends: are you a stereotypical bar-goer in search of a one-night stand?"
"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"
She opened her mouth -whether to accept or decline or argue he wasn't sure- when her phone rang again. Maka huffed, turned it off and stuffed it in her purse, then turned back to him with a smile as brilliant as her eyes, "Sure. What's life without a little risk?"
Soul motioned for Justin and the blond waved him off, knowing he was good for it, so Soul pointed to Maka as well, then got up and held out his hand to her, "C'mon, let's get out of here." Maka put her hand in his, trusting him, and his fingers curled over hers, pulling her up and out the door where his motorcycle waited. It was cool outside and Soul didn't even think about it before he took off the pinstriped jacket and held it out to her.
Maka looked at it and back up to him, "But... won't you be colder sitting in front?"
He shrugged, "Maybe, but I also have pants."
She blushed -and he noted it suited her amazingly, just like her eyes and ponytails and that dress- and slipped it on, the shoulders way too wide for her and it really looked kind of adorable... Soul turned around to hide his grin as she pouted at swimming in the new layer of clothing.
Maka watched him as he started the bike, looked down at her ill-advised high-heels, then kicked them off, uncaring if she never found them again, and tossed her leg over the bike, the bottom of her dress raising but just loose enough not to hike up dangerously, wrapping her arms around Soul. She pressed her face to his back as the motorcycle purred beneath them and he took off, weaving out into traffic without even looking first.
His voice filtered back to her as they raced down the asphalt at the very upper end of the speed limit, "You good back there?"
She wasn't willing to actually look, but nodded against him, "Uh-huh..." Then she raised her voice, "What's life without a little risk?"
Soul grinned back over his shoulder at her and revved the bike up, then pushed them even faster, taking a turn off the main road to weave in and out through the city streets at breakneck speeds. By the time Maka had convinced herself they weren't going to crash and die horribly and mustered her courage enough to peek up over his shoulder she'd discovered he had a very pleasant scent even after half a night spent in the bar. It was... exhilarating on the back of the bike. Leaning into the turns with Soul, feeling his muscles flex under her fingers, feeling the vibration through his chest when he threw back his head and laughed as she told him to go faster.
The dark scenery was a blur around them, lights flicking past almost before they could be seen, leaving multi-colored streaks of light at the edges of the night as they rode past. The wind tore at them, whipping Maka's hair about and flapping her dress against her thighs, the chill air numbing her face and legs. And Maka couldn't care less, because even numb from the cold, she could feel the huge smile on her face. When they turned onto a straight-away, she let go of Soul carefully, leaning back to look up at the stars overhead, holding her arms out.
Soul's laughter drifted back to her, "Crazy woman!" He tapped the brake to jolt her forward, her arms going around him instinctively and her heart hammering in her chest.
Maka couldn't even scowl at him for almost giving her a heart-attack. She leaned forward and bit his arm sharply, before beaming back, "Then we're a perfect fit!"
Soul jerked from her nip, sending them swerving into another of the empty lanes, the sharp retort he tossed back to her was lost in the sound of her giggling as she pressed herself against him and leaned with him into the turn to put them back on track.
Eventually, they wound up parked at a closed cafe across from a park separated by a wide, stone footbridge. Soul leaned back against the railing and leaned his head back, almost far enough to see his reflection in the waterway below, Maka carefully walking on the opposite railing with her arms -still sheathed in his jacket- out for balance. He turned his attention from the water to her, "So, what's your story?"
Maka looked at him from the corner of her eye without turning her focus from the next step in front of her, "Not much to tell, really. My best friend set me up on that date I asked you about. It was stupid, I told her I didn't even need a boyfriend anyway. What was the point? I'm a professional student: I'm working on getting my fourth Master's Degree and I work part-time at a book shop. Who'd be interested in me? I'm, I mean... it's not like when I was a teenager: I'm done growing, my boobs are never getting any bigger than this. Really, all I need are a pair of glasses to complete the whole spinster image. I even have a cat. What about you?"
Soul shrugged, "Eh, not much to me, either. Perfect brother, perfect parents, perfect lifestyle... and then there's me." He grinned to show off his teeth, "Who is just so very not-perfect thank you muchly. What's there to say?"
"I love your playing."
"It's not that great."
"It's fantastic! Your playing is amazing. Why don't you have a record deal or something?"
"Kinda do... I mean, I play plenty, and I've got money and a nice apartment and a view of the city you can't beat. Got great friends..."
"And it's hard to stop the thought of tossing yourself into the river from the highest point you can find?"
He looked up at her sharply and saw her frowning at her foot as she placed it precisely in front of the other, "I've never met anyone like me before. I'm surrounded by so many happy people, or angry people, or just... just people, and I have friends and we talk and go out and I just feel..."
"Alone."
"Yeah."
"Well I've certainly never met someone like you before, either." She smiled down at him for the joke and he smirked back, "Never saw a girl put up with Giriko without trying to kill him, or just walking through that cloud of smoke like you did without coughing or anything."
"My dad and his... partner, both smoke all the time, so I'm used to that. And my dad was also this huge flirt that chased after every skirt he saw, so I'm used to both those things."
" 'Used to'? So he doesn't anymore?"
She shook her head, "No. Stein would strap him to a table and do all sorts of things to him if he did."
"You sound way too happy about that."
Maka grinned at him and then almost gave him a heart-attack by spinning around in place and walking backwards on the railing, "Maybe a little. My dad likes to act like this big... goof, this unreliable person. But he's actually really sweet, and he loves me to bits- has to, since, you know, he's doing most of the funding for my schooling."
"What about your mom?"
"She... she died. A long time ago. I thought she'd left us, gone to travel the world because she was sick of dad's fooling around. I'd get post cards from all these amazing places talking about how much I was loved. A few years ago, I discovered that she had left us, and that her plane crashed and killed everyone aboard. The letter she'd left behind, all the post cards I'd gotten, they were all from my dad, pretending to be her, letting me hate him just so I wouldn't cry knowing that my mom had left me without a word and died trying to get away."
"Wow... That's... that's devotion."
"He's such an idiot. I'd rather have had those years with him."
Soul smiled, "Yeah, I've got a friend like that, too. Found me one night about to do something really stupid, stopped me, punched me for considering it, then took me out on the town to raise hell and have some fun. He's a complete goof-ball, too. 'Course, he was a bit more fun and tolerable to be around before-"
"He got into a relationship?"
"Yeah. Watching everyone around you getting twitterpated while being left behind completely sucks."
"Then let's get twitterpated."
Crimson eyes blinked, "Excuse me?"
Maka stood with a foot each on top of one of the stone-ball ornaments decorating the railing like she had supernatural weeble-wobble balance powers, hands on her hips, "I'm alone, you're alone. So let's be... not-alone, together. That's sound logic, right?"
Soul stared at her, at her determined face and stance, and threw his head back laughing. He hadn't laughed so much in a single night ever. Maka pouted at him, felt around in his jacket's pockets, then pulled out his cell phone and threw it at him in a huff. Soul only laughed harder, ducking out of the collision path and bent double as his phone plopped into the waterway below. Ah, that was worth it just for the story he'd have to share about how he lost the thing when Kid and BlackStar finally remembered the number to his landline in the morning.
He wiped his eyes and looked up when Maka gasped, "I'm so sorry! That was... your phone, wasn't it?"
And that set him off again.
"Stop laughing! I'm being serious!"
Soul gasped for breath, "Sorry, Maka. Ahhh, it's not a big deal. I've been wanting to do that myself for weeks now anyway."
She pulled out her own phone and looked at it, "You know what? Me, too." she held the white device out over the waterway and opened her hand, watching as it fell. She looked back to him and tilted her head in a way that sent warning bells ringing, "Hey, Soul..."
He arched a brow at her, "Yeah...?"
"You know one of the ways I was told that you could tell if a person is someone you can count on?"
"...If you toss their phone into a river and they don't get mad at you?"
"Nope. It's if they catch you when you fall."
He narrowed his eyes, "Don't even think about-"
"Catch me." She spun and let herself fall backwards.
Soul was across the distance in an instant, catching her as she fell back into his arms, "Oof." He glared down at her as she smiled at him, "You. Are. Insane."
"A bit." Little minx didn't even try to deny it! "Think that's a deal-breaker?"
"Sanity is vastly overrated."
Maka blinked at him, then giggled, ducking her head to his chest and snickering to herself. When she got herself under control again, Sea Glass eyes sparkled up at him, "Thank you, Soul."
He shrugged, jolting her whole frame like she weighed nothing and making her squeak and cling to him, "No problem, I'm cool like that."
"I've noticed."
"C'mere."
Maka cocked her head, "I don't think I can 'c'mere' any more than I am."
Soul proved her wrong by setting down her legs, half-turning, then hefting her up again so that he could hold her right leg with his right hand and grab her left leg with his left hand behind him, her breath rushing past his ear and her arms tightening around his shoulders from her new piggy-back position. "You were saying?"
"W-why did you do that?"
He shrugged again, "Maybe I just like the feel of your legs around me."
"Soul!" She smacked him over the head and he chuckled.
"Easy, there, Bright Eyes. I was kidding. I'm not looking for a one-night stand, just so you know."
She hugged him as well as she could as she laid her cheek on his shoulder, "I know... It wouldn't get rid of the loneliness anyway."
Soul's hands tightened on her legs, "Besides, I have to carry you like this if you don't want to ruin your stockings on the grass."
"Stupid stockings. Don't care if I ruin them. Shouldn't have worn this stupid dress in the first place. Uncomfortable, impractical- nearly killed myself in those dumb heels."
He smiled but held back his chuckle as she listed off all the faults in her outfit. They fell into a comfortable silence as Soul walked, Maka warm against his back as he moved across the grassy ground and through the trees of the park, Maka's breath puffing out across the nape of his neck. It was new, different, and entirely wonderful. Soul found himself thinking about Maka, what her dreams were, what her favorite foods would be, her favorite color. He was pretty sure his own had shifted to Sea Glass Green over the course of the night.
His parents had faded from his mind, their taunting and mocking words not even hollow echoes any longer, far overshadowed by the powerful, melodic sound of Maka's laughter in his thoughts. Strong and robust even when she giggled, not a tinkling little laugh, she gave herself over completely to it. Wes' pitying looks as he stood there and listened to their parents berate Soul, BlackStar and Kid's worried glances when they dropped off his bike after a night of binge-drinking; all of that was lost in Maka's smile, when her eyes sparkled in happiness from the dim hopelessness they'd held when he first saw them.
He felt her breath catch when he came to a stop. She rested her tiny chin on his shoulder as she stared out over the water of the man-made lake, a small waterfall feeding it before running through the waterway. The full moon low in the sky reflected on the still surface, and dozens of fireflies danced over the water, the glittering seeming to come from within when Soul turned his head to watch Maka watch the display.
She turned and caught him looking, not flinching away from his gaze. She looked down and smiled softly, "Oh, Soul..."
He grinned back, cock-eyed and sharp, "Like it?"
"I love it. Thank you." He shrugged and turned his head so she wouldn't catch his blush.
But he got the feeling she had anyway when she leaned forward and pressed their cheeks together, and he thought she might be blushing, too, because hers wasn't much cooler. She wiggled in place, and he let her down, her smaller hand finding his as she leaned against him.
Maka squeezed his hand, "Hey, Soul."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for this."
"It's cool."
"Yeah, you are. Hey."
"Yeah?"
Maka grinned up at him, "Race you back to the bike."
She took off running and he stood there gaping for a second before chasing after her, "Maka! Your stockings!"
"Fuck the stockings! Catch me~!"
Okay, that was kind of hot. His expression took on a feral quality and he put some effort into it, chasing her for all he was worth. Just when he thought he had her in his clutches, she made a sharp turn that shouldn't even have been possible, laughter taunting him playfully as she ducked behind a tree then peeked back out at him, sticking out her tongue.
He grabbed the nearest sapling and used it to adjust his angle, keeping almost all of his speed as he went after her. Maka feinted to the left and then darted right, but Soul was right on her heels. She tried to copy his move, but her hand slipped on the trunk and she stumbled. Soul ran headlong into her, wrapping his arms around her middle and sending them tumbling to the ground, rolling several times before stopping, breathless and covered in grass and dew. Maka panted on top of him, then leaned down and kissed him. Soul's hold on her went slack in shock- and the little minx used it to get away again.
He shot upright, galvanized by the tingling still on his lips, "Maka! Get back here!"
"Nope."
He took off after her as she hid behind another large tree. "Maka..."
"Yeess~?"
He sprinted around the tree, only to stop in confusion. She wasn't there. He turned around and went around the other direction. She couldn't possibly be predicting his movements well enough to be avoiding him... could she?
"Oh, Soooul..."
Wait a minute. That didn't sound like it came from behind the trunk, that sounded more like it was coming from... He looked up just in time to be dive-bombed and fell under her, "Oomph!"
She beamed down at him, "Got you."
He sat up and picked her up bridal style, "Mistake number one."
"Soul, put me down."
He echoed her earlier answer back at her: "Nope."
"Soul, put me down now. This is undignified."
"No... this is undignified." And he swung her up over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
"Soul!" she shrieked, flailing her legs ineffectually, stockings utterly ruined with grass, mud, and tiny rips.
"Yes, Maka?"
There was silence for a minute or two as he walked them back to the bike, then, finally, "I'm sorry. You won. I'm sorry I cheated." He smiled in victory and set her back on her feet, only for her to smirk up at him, "Not sorry I kissed you, though."
Soul shook his head and took her hand, "Come on, you."
"Where are we going?"
"Home."
Maka didn't argue, didn't ask if he meant his home or hers, didn't complain. She only held his hand tighter and let him lead her back to the motorcycle. She got on after he started the bike, holding him from behind as he set off at a pace that actually even sorta-kinda kept to the speed limit... well, mostly. They wove through the streets in companionable silence as twilight broke over the city, turning the black sky dawn-gray and purple.
"Soul?"
He barely even noticed the gentle, happy smile on his face, "Hmm? What is it?"
"What made you even notice me? In the bar. I was just one more girl coming in from a bad day. What made me stand out?"
"Your eyes. They caught me."
"My eyes? A million people have eyes the exact same color."
They leaned into a turn together, "It wasn't the color-" though he loved that about them, too, "they were like mine: Lonely eyes."
She nuzzled between his shoulders, "They're not... not anymore."
One of his hands left the handles to thread their fingers together and squeeze, "Mine, either."
Soul pulled the handset away from his ear with a wince, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FOUND A GIRLFRIEND!?"
He scowled at the phone, "Am I speaking French? What part of that did you find difficult to grasp?" Maka giggled from the doorway to the kitchen where she stood making breakfast in the mid-morning light, wearing nothing but one of Soul's long-sleeved white shirts. He grinned at her before going back to his idiot- er, best friend, rather, "Did I somehow mistakenly give out gay-vibes I was unaware of? What's the issue here?"
"WHAT-"
Kid apparently plucked the phone from BlackStar's hold and monopolized it for himself if BlackStar's ranting in the background was any indication, "I think what he meant was-"
"I'm serious! Give me back the phone!"
"I will not, you'll just shout again."
"It's my phone, Kid! And that's my best friend, I'll shout if I want to!"
"If you can't be responsible then you don't deserve phone privileges."
"Quit treating me like I'm freaking ten!"
"Then quit acting like it!"
Soul just sighed and cocked his hip, Maka coming up and listening to the conversation by putting her ear to the other side of the phone -as if she had to be that close to hear the commotion- but he leaned down obligingly anyway and she covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the giggling.
"Um, hi? I'm Soul's girlfriend, Maka. You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here..."
There was a crash -BlackStar tackling his boyfriend to the ground?- before a shout came over the line, "HOW DID SOUL MANAGE TO GET YOU?!"
"BlackStar! Get off of me!"
"That's not what you were saying last night~!"
Soul face-palmed while Maka blushed beside him, her lips twitching, "What can I say? He was just too cool to refuse."
"I TOLD YOU SO! YOU OWE ME!"
"GET OFF!"
"NEVAR! WHA-!" And another crash.
Soul got the impression of Kid standing up and straightening his outfit- it was just a very Kid-Thing to do, "We're happy for you. Lovely to meet you, Maka."
"You, too, Kid. Here, talk to Soul more, I have to go finish breakfast."
"Would you like to join us for lunch?"
She looked up at Soul, who shrugged, it didn't matter to him one way or the other. She'd have to get used to them eventually. "Sure thing. Bye, now." she paused for a moment, then, "BYE, BLACKSTAR!"
There was a quieter, "Bye, Maka!" from the other end of the line -what the fuck? Had Kid locked his boyfriend in the closet just to get the goddamned phone? ...Actually, yeah, that sounded like something they'd do- followed by a distressed sound from Kid who'd gotten the brunt of the verbal assault.
"She suits you well."
"...Why do you make that sound like an insult?"
Kid stopped the joking and got serious, "Does this mean no more binge-trips out to Death Scythe every other week?"
Soul switched the phone to his other ear and peeked into the kitchen, watching Maka meddle around, humming under her breath and moving in time to one of his songs playing on the radio. He pulled back and smiled, "Yeah. I found what I was looking for."