“ HOSTAGE? ” and oh the masks she wears , faking offense because it was EASIER that way : lip jut out , brow furrowed , feigning sensitivity for a reason to sit up straight and rip away because she fears he might’ve heard the way her heart beat in its cage had they stayed so close. she corrects her posture to one far more dignified , no longer swooning like a silly little girl , and folds her arms––––– cross like a child whose toy was taken away. “ if it’s so horrible for you , you have every right to go to your room! i told you this before–––– you shouldn’t be up this late anyway. ”
but with him she can’t fake things , not even for a joke , a weary smile returning with yet another rock forward ( perhaps too close for the likes of friends , those destined to stay stagnant ) and a soft sigh. “ confident as ever , soul , ” she teases , adding a well - deserved sock to his arm. “ i don’t know how many times i told you : i’m not gonna crash out here. you’re the one who looks like you’re on your last leg. ” ( YET THE NIGHT GROWS DEEPER , EACH SECOND PASSING A CHANCE LOST AND A REASON FOR EYES TO GROW HEAVIER. HOW LONG CAN SHE KEEP UP THIS ACT–––– THIS PRIDE? )
and yet the act , poise for the sake of seeming strong to the person she fully intended to protect ( be it bad guys , madness , the tribulations of caring for someone difficult as she ) must falter eventually : WEAKNESS ISN’T MEANT FOR WANDERING EYES , BUT HE IS ANYTHING BUT THAT. ( a friend , a partner , an ideal. ) shoulders slump , indicative of a defeat uncharacteristic for one of her caliber : she has nerves of steel , yet a gossamer heart. now she is frustrated , eyes averted to the dark corner of the room. “ okay , you caught me : i do feel worried about tomorrow–––– it’s just–––– ” should i fail to protect you again? how would i live with myself? “ i don’t know. things are so different from our first time around , i––– i tried sleeping before and it didn’t work so well. i’m just anxious , i guess–––– i don’t know , it’s stupid. ”
AND NOW SHE HAS BROKEN DOWN HER WALLS , leaving him standing in the wake . meister’s heart is bared , vulnerability known only now in the dim light of the screen . her anxiety is shared , though honest intentions are muddied ; it is because of you , because you are not strong enough to stand by her side . this is the ballad that fills your mind , the one that comes with every touch of the ivory keys , flowing freely and never spent . but he would never hurt her , never give her another reason to leave in search of someone else ( someone more powerful ) . * his unspoken words are etched into every piece of him i love you / i love you / i love you . this facade he dons is crumbling , a losing battle to maintain a fallacy that they both know is false . pretences have slid away , masking themselves until they can rear their heads again in the light of the rising sun . it is the same song , the same dance they have performed a thousand times ; will you tire ?
THEY CANNOT ESCAPE THIS , they never have been able to it’s impossible to even try . lines have blurred beyond recognition , boundaries long since overstepped . and so he lets go , lets himself sink into this different type of madness . ❛❛ ‘ you’re the only meister i know who could take on a mission like this , even if you are sleep deprived . ‘ ❜❜ the honeyed words on his lips taste sweet , spilling the contents of his deepest thoughts into the light . maka albarn : his all powerful meister . they had held true power in their hands , the soul of a witch [ or so they thought , foolish eyes deceived by the magic bestowed to their now feline companion ] ! they were renowned , the first to get as close as they did to what so many have thirsted for ; and they are back to the beginning , kishin souls stacked ahead of them waiting for devouring . ❛❛ ‘ it’s not stupid . but nothing will happen , i promise . we’ll get his soul and get one step closer . kishins aren’t even the hard part . ‘ ❜❜ how he wishes to be tender , to be soft ; perhaps then she wouldn’t fear their task . but he is learning how to shed his skin , to be the person maka would want in her life even if they weren’t partners ( that day will come and you will have nothing , save for the status of the divine ) . and it’s almost inevitable , knowing that soon he will not be solely hers it almost breaks his heart . ❛❛ ‘ do you want something to eat ? i’m starving . ‘ ❜❜
HIS WORDS ARE HONEY , SWEET AS THEY ARE SICKENING : she doesn’t deserve half the praise he gives her , for had she been even a slight semblance of the success he so - readily claimed in her name , things wouldn’t have been as they were now : she’d be fast asleep in bed , unphased by the pre - mission jitters which haunted her now , practically begging him of assurances in their unspoken dialect. he’d be unbothered , left to his own devices in the night and free of his obligation to ease her mind. better yet , they’d have those ninety - nine kishin souls and one of a witch. he wouldn’t have that damn scar. to his praises , all she can do is fake a curt , nasally laugh , scrunching her nose and averting her eyes. even to her , her lack of a response feels deafening , overcoming the low hum of the tv.
saved by suggestion , she perks up in her seat at his offer , face contorting in a new way : one of tease , defaulting to her typical nature of nitpicking all he does ( the EASIEST mask for fixation , a way to hide her adoration , the need to be involved in his everything before it’s GONE because life has taught her that all good things must come to an end or else be exposed as not - good at all ). “ food? now? ” if his words are honey , hers are coffee : bitter , and yet an acquired taste which one learns in time to love on the tongue. the know - it - all within demands she reprimand him , spewing useless mantras from childhood ( admonitions from her mother no doubt , facts of life she held dearer than all else ) on the disorder in going to bed on a fresh - full stomach , yet she understands that saying no has no natural rhythm to her scheme : declining means saying goodnight or else risking just watching him like some lovesick puppy ( as if that was far from the truth !! ) and so she indulges , drawing out some dramatic sigh as if she’s been beaten and somehow convinced. maka uncrossed her legs to lean forward , scooping the blanket from his lap with a laugh and draping it over her shoulders. as she slinks off the couch and rises to her feet , she bunches it in fists and crosses her arms to conceal herself , the bits of flesh exposed besides what her tank top could cover turning to goosebumps. he was right earlier , even if the act of swaddling her into his arms didn’t do the trick in warming her up itself : she was cold. “ yeah , i could eat. only if you make something good though–––– none of your weird , experimental food stuff. ”
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