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@scythical
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kyomeiu .
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. ”
HE ALWAYS KNOWS WHEN SHE LIES , obvious through the years as they have grown together ( learnt together ) . her laugh is never as bitingly harsh unless she is hiding from him , a cacophony of sounds that he knows all too well . they both hide their nerves well , cloaked by their facades : this is your own talent , shapeshifting before each other and showing only the things you think the other wants to see [ but i will still love those things , more than if they were my own ] . the idea of breaking from this position makes his heart ache , but it’s necessary to ensure that she gets all she needs ; perhaps he’ll reset her alarm clock so she can have a few more minutes before they leave .
SHE MOVES FASTER THAN HIM , the loss of her weight against his body almost making him drop the small smile that appeared when she had agreed . so he gets up from his spot on the couch , hears the way it groans as he stands . all he wants to do is hold her hand as they start the short walk to the kitchen , to hold her close against him as they cook that is the life he’s always imagined . it’s a fever dream , one that only comes with these times . they’re so cruel , playing out fantasies that will always evade him [ you will never catch smoke in your hands ] . and so he just stretches , yawning lazily as once rigid muscles relax . ❛❛ ‘ i’m not making anything fancy , so don’t even ask . ‘ ❜❜ it’s a lie ; whatever she could ask for he would make , pour his heart and soul into every moment of it all for her . his walk is slow , lethargic , checking over his shoulder to make sure she’s following him . a stream of pale moonlight shines through the window , and soul pauses where he stands . he has thought of this so many times over , taking maka’s hands in his beneath this same moon and professing everything that he has kept locked away for so long , those things he dares not tell anyone . ❛❛ ‘ i was thinking eggs . you’ve always liked those . ‘ ❜❜
my blog exists solely for behira and noah and i love that for us
kyomeiu· .
“ 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 . ‘ ❜❜
kyomeiu .
“ I WOULDN’T BE STUCK HERE IF YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP , SOUL––––! ”
her efforts to tease are always sabotaged , be it his doing or her own embarrassment––– OH HOW HE MAKES HER FEEL SMALL , HOW HE MAKES HER WANT TO SHRINK INTO HERSELF … but never in a bad way , for within her she knows HE IS THERE. ( it is THERE that they could forever live like this , a place where the sun cannot be of interruption. ) thank the gods and all above for the night , the steel that hides silk , disguising the flush in her cheeks and admiration in her eyes : but thank them for the stars too , shining dim so she can still see enough to know this is real. the condescend he feigns can only take him so far though –––– she’s known him too long , spent more than enough time fixating on his words and the ways his cheeks pinch when he doesn’t truly mean them , tone a vessel for a secret of feelings they share which everyone already knew of. yet playing along is always easier : ASKING THE TRUTH OF HIM MEANS THINKING OF HERSELF AS WORTHWHILE. SHE KNOWS SHE’S NOT.
things are naturally coming to an end , tire catching up to the two of them –––– but she’s not ready to say goodnight now , otherwise condemned to a night of staring at her ceiling and rethinking every last stupid thing she’s said , every way she foolishly made herself open to him , why she trust her heart in his hands in the first place. she’s not ready , and so she’ll fight the same way the moon fights the sun for more time to be seen. ( OH HOW HE MAKES HER FEEL HOPELESS , ALL THE PLACES HE’S TOUCHED ACHING FOR MORE. ) maka perks up as he leans back into the couch , squirming beneath the blanket to fortify , to cross her legs beneath her , a thousand words somehow from such a subtlety : for you , i am here to stay. then she giggles , swaying forward to knock her head gently into his once. “ you’re far kinder than i am –––– carrying me to my room even when you say it’s so difficult –––– i’d just leave you here. ”
THEIR BATTLES HERE ARE SO UNLIKE THOSE WHO ARE CORRUPTED , words soft and attacks laced with affection . he can smile freely here , wide and unashamed , all pretences dropped . and yet he cannot shake himself to profess those things that make him squirm when she touches him as she’s doing , the things that haunt him at night when there is only the moon awake ( you can smell her shampoo ) . they are always there , digging their claws in especially now * it hurts so much but this is the agony you live with . it’s a losing battle he fights with her , the small huff that he lets out when their heads knock together , trying to lather it with tones of annoyance . and yet he touches her more , moving to hold her head like that . ❛❛ ‘ and now you’re holding me hostage . figures , you just can’t resist spending time with me ; i am much more fun than kidd . ‘ ❜❜ perhaps it’s more than he should give , smugness dripping in his voice . he feels like he’s on fire where their skin touches , unwilling to move and save himself from this pain .
HE SINGS HER SILENT LAMENTS DISGUISED AS TEASES , ones that even she cannot decipher [ maka albarn : top student ] . he wants to close his eyes , to have her beside him when he drifts and awakens , and yet he dare not even suggest it ; the harsh sting of rejection would leave a permanent scar . so he just forces himself to be alert , to sit straighter without disturbing her from her posture . ❛❛ ‘ ha i only took you back because you’re always so grouchy , and i know that you would be a real pain in my ass . ‘ ❜❜ there is no mask now , sharp grin wide and laughter licking at his lips . this is the only place he sheds his skin , letting her touch at the exposed parts of you * they beat for you , maka . this is safe , this he can handle without putting them in danger ; it is from himself , one not physical but that will tear them apart , the story of a girl who lost her scythe all over again . there are words that rest on the tip of his tongue , ones that he prays are heard in everything he does . ❛❛ ‘ it’s not a competition , you won’t lose by falling asleep first . ‘ ❜❜ it’s almost impossible to breathe , feeling the way her stray hairs drift over his fingers . can you not quell this heart of yours ? but now he cannot bear the thought of spending the night by himself , to have to break the position they are wrapped up in now .
kyomeiu .
IT’S NOT THE ENEMY THAT MAKES HER WORRY , but the partner beside her : every battle is an opening to fail him , every victory a step closer to inevitable separation. ( SHE CAN’T WIN –––– YET SHE’S SEEN HOW THIS ENDS , THAT SAME HAUNTING STORY , TIME AND TIME AGAIN AND DONE NOTHING TO STOP IT. ) her heart races at the thought alone ( though just as credibly it could because of him , the way they’ve draped over one another in the dark as if it’s some sort of secret ) , the sudden acknowledgment they aren’t those same stupid kids that started this journey together what seems like a lifetime ago. no , there’s nothing CHILDISH about the hardships they’ve endured , those they have yet to face , the way they look at each other. YET THOSE GROWING PAINS ARE WHAT MAKE HER CHERISH MOMENTS LIKE THESE ALL THE MORE , a grasp at the normalcy they’ve sacrificed –––– and so maka squirms against him like she would if he was just an ordinary boy and she was just an ordinary girl , fingers curling to scratch where he holds them in place in an effort to tickle her way to freedom. “ jeez , soul–––– you sound like my papa. ” her tone shifts , one of lighthearted mockery reserved for only those close enough to peek past her walls : “ close the window! you’ll catch a cold! i’m fine–––– you’re the worrier , not me. ”
but despite the way she taunts him , a competitive spirit’s ditch - efforts at salvaging pride , maka knows when she’s been beat : so as her wiggles prove fruitless she gives in , collapsing back against his shoulder with a huff of surrender. languid giggles come as hot breath in the crook of his neck , bliss overcoming apprehension of whatever challenge awaited her in the morning. ( if only she knew how to stop the sun , to exist in this moment before the end of the story could catch up to them–––– ) for a moment she’s utterly still against him , preparing the conviction it’ll take to take his hand in hers or press her lips to his shoulder before he’s all fun and games again , a forcible shift of his weight atop her. maka moves with urgency , linking an arm in his to push back on him –––– yet fatigued brute force is no match for deadweight , giving her no choice but to slowly lay back on the couch and accept yet another loss. “ souuuuul , ” she whines , huffing and puffing beneath him , though her pleas come from an ear - to - ear smile. “ i can’t get up ‘til you do , dummy! ugh , this is no fair––––!! ”
HE SHOULD BE CAREFUL , before he loses himself in her in this moment though perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad , knowing that she carries your whole heart in her hands . he can almost imagine how her hand feels in his , the way it would feel to brush those stray hairs from her face so he can truly look at her . and yet it feels like a weakness to have these ( frequent ) thoughts , to put her into danger with his own craving to be close to her . it’s never been like this with anyone else , the pull he feels to his meister ever since the beginning . there has always been that pull to her , ever since he can remember ; fate has always wanted you together . how long has it been since you first touched like this , moment eternal but never feeling so . [ you think her lips taste of stardust , pulling you in and never letting go . ] he would take this moment everyday if he could , to be here in this entanglement of limbs , hearts and souls resonating even here . and yet they are but a candle , snuffed out when they lose to their fatigue as the sun peaks . he cannot help the jolt that comes with her tickling , playful scowl forming and quickly grabbing her hands through the fabric of the sweatshirt .
DOES SHE KNOW THAT SHE IS THE REASON YOU DO NOT SLEEP AT NIGHT , a shadow that lingers in the back of your dreams ? does he dare tell her ? she is on the brink of exhaustion , it’s obvious when he can read her as he can , and all he wants is to let her get the rest she so deserves . and he will stand watch , as he always does ready when she needs him . she does not need a protector , she never has ; she will slay the dragons by her own hand . and maybe that is why you love her . letting her hands drop back to a neural position , he almost presses them down , until she is as much of him as that damned scar . ❛❛ ‘ if you had just gone to bed when i told you to , you wouldn’t be stuck here , now would you ? ‘ ❜❜ an exaggerated yawn , a slight motion of nuzzling inwards until he realizes that this is your wall falling , leaving holes that spell her name and leave her vulnerable . so he plays it off , jerking his head back so it rests on the couch . ❛❛ ‘ hmph . maybe it’s finally my turn to sleep here and you have to carry me . ‘ ❜❜ he peeks back at her , eye only partially open . ( it hurts when you look at her / it hurts when you don’t . ) and this is why he is icarus reborn : you always fly too close .
kyomeiu .
THE MISSION IS THE LAST THING SHE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT. she can remember a time where pre - mission butterflies came from a place of excitement , impending the thrill of being one step closer to proving the world wrong. now sleepless nights are plagued by bitter echoes , memories of all recklessness and wrong - doing for every time she’s put him in danger. ( LET ME PROTECT YOU , EVEN IN WAYS YOU CANNOT SEE–––– ) and so she ignores his talk of missions and kishin and souls for now , resistance coming in a physical shift of the body ( of course , not enough to detangle limbs and lose the warmth just sitting in her bones –––– no , maka is far too stubborn to give this up after so masterfully finding her way into his hold without raising suspicion toward her motives for leaving her room in the first place ) . he must be punished for speaking so surely , a small struggle beneath the blankets as her hand creeps up the curve of his hip and plunges beneath his sweatshirt to press her ice - cold fingers against his abdomen ( against that DAMNED scar ) . yet the reoccurring guilt which reminders of his wound bring nor the facade of petty frustration is no match for the joy teasing him brings , both fleeting in the face of her sleepy bouts of giggles. “ who died and made you king of the couch? i’m not gonna fall asleep , soul–– i already said i’d get up when you did. ”
yet the drowsiness she so vehemently denies is apparent in the way she whines , as if she was still thirteen –––– like when they had met. ( what a funny thought , the ways in which time will take you. ) that day at the piano , the first time they’d spoke … she’d run all over campus looking for him upon word of a demon scythe , and so - foolishly neglected to realize things could end up like this. there’s that same old story , one she was too wise to ignore as she did now : A GIRL AND HER BELOVED SCYTHE. IT DOESN’T WORK OUT.
laughter can’t fend off guilt for too long , not after unconsciously making the choice to let her hand linger beneath his shirt and fingers dance across the rigid bumps of his scar. again she cozies into him , though with meekness unlike before –––– maka turns to face the tv and acts as if she’s watching , words muffled with her lips pressed against the fabric of his sweatshirt. “ i’m not worried , ” she lies , that same tired whine–––– “ i just don’t–––– i–––– we don’t know a lot about the guy we’re going after tomorrow , you know? he could be really strong , meanwhile you’re gonna be all tired out because you didn’t go to bed at a good time. ”
MAYBE THEY SHOULD KNOW BETTER , a story that she has lived through once unfolding even now [ when she looks at you , does she see her father ? does she feel that same anger when your eyes meet ? ] , the epilogue still unclear . their line has always been blurred , soft touches and hushed words in the light of the rising sun . and her fingers feel like his salvation , brushing against the part of himself that makes his stomach churn at the very thought of his failure but never when she’s around . she thinks you are strong , and she is the one who must work harder , do better , gain stregnth for you . perhaps this is all it will ever amount to , a harboured yearning from a boy who worships her as if she is the sun ( and you are the moon , never one without the other ) . he was right , she is cold , her touch against his flesh radiating across his limbs [ her punishment means little to him , as always ] . ❛❛ ‘ jeez , did you leave your window open ? you’ll catch a cold and black ☆ star would just love to steal this mission from us . ‘ ❜❜ concern is unfeigned , dripping from his words like honey . his reaction is almost automatic , flattening her hands against his chest with a quick movement of his own , holding her digits in place . be still , my beating heart .
HIS WARMTH IS KNOWN ONLY TO HER , facade crumbling even now . their masks are never off , still walking around each other with hidden intentions ; it’s their fatal flaw . ❛❛ ‘ come on , we’ve kicked so many kishin asses that this one won’t be any different . you sound worried so stop lying to me . ‘ ❜❜ boy in two acts : weapon / death scythe . he can almost taste it , goal so close that he can practically grab it , feel the power it brings ; but also the sadness , the knowledge of knowing that maka will not be his only meister anymore . but those thoughts can never come to light , he could never allow it . will he ever brave the consequences of revealing this to her , of the chance she will be disappointed in her partner ? and here soul and spirit are one , letting their own selfish desires surpass those of the women they love . ❛❛ ‘ i guess you’re right , i should get some sleep . ‘ ❜❜ how easily betrayed you are , yawn slipping easily from his lips , physique slumping even more as his cheek meets the crown of her head . how hard would you have to beg for this night to last forever ? ❛❛ ‘ you have to go first , i cant move until you do . ‘ ❜❜
kyomeiu .
TO TONGUE - IN - CHEEK CRUELTY MAKA HEAVES AN OVERDONE SIGH , feigning irritation she does not truly feel as both warning and a harmless provocation. ( two can play at his game , one of poking fun and reminding one another of the secrets they share , and she’ll play as dirty as fatigue allows her too –––– ) yet just as she’s come up with a flaw of his own to nitpick , something sure to shut him up on oh - how - hard ! it is to carry a girl all of five feet , he claims victory in the most unprecedented of ways : her skin swells in all the spots fingers had graced at her hip , heat tingling beneath his fingertips and in her cheeks and stealing all her words away. so much for retaliation , it’s no longer an option : she can only shrink further into him , ditch - effort at drawing attention away from uncharacteristic speechlessness. THANK GOD THE ROOM IS DARK , NATURE’S INCOGNITO , PROTECTOR OF EVEN MORE EMBARRASSMENT.
the fleece blanket is soft , warming her in all the places a tangle of limbs could not –––– but she can only afford a soft hum as thanks , for her mind is elsewhere : SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SEEMS ALL - TOO - FAMILIAR , the story of a meister who loved her partner so much she’d willingly let him tear her apart ( bare to me all your worst parts , the things you so - foolishly find despicable , the things that make you scared , and i will only love you more –––– ) and so short - sightedly she lets it happen as if history is on their side , like the scars of distrust she shamefully brandishes don’t define her.
but maybe that’s what love is : knowing someone is capable of hurting you and thinking it a privilege to even have that chance.
or maybe she’s just plain crazy , a lovesick puppy unwilling to face the truth. maybe she’ll wake up one day and think this is all wrong. maybe that’s what happened to mama.
“ c’mon , i wouldn’t be that bad–––– ” she’s back to square one , typical maka fixated on one’s “ offenses ” –––– somehow easier than speaking sweetly , no necessity to second guessing herself. and still she lets him pull closer. “ i’m not gonna sleep out here all night. i’ll go to bed when you do … ”
THERE IS NOTHING ELSE NOW , just him and the girl who chose him as her partner , their languid forms merging together like it’s a second nature . he can smell her shampoo , a scent that wafts gently and makes his heart stir ( and yet you fight this feeling everyday , are you not tired yet ? ) . perhaps if there was not a war that rages in his head , it would be different ; he would surrender himself completely without hesitance to be able to hold her like this even when there’s no stakes laid bare in front of them . but this battle is all for her , so he can be strong enough to protect her when she may fall . and this is why she mustn’t know the depths of himself : it just exposes her further to weakness , her weapon a piece in her game that can fall at any moment . how close is she to discovering the secrets that bubble beneath your skin , the ones that make your shoulders ache with their heaviness ? even now , meister cannot feel the way he yearns [ you can feel the way your lips burnt as you kissed the crown of her head ] , hard and long and inescapable .
THERE’S A SMALL SMILE BLOOMING ON HIS LIPS , words barked out at her soft reply . ❛❛ ‘ of course you’re going to fall asleep again . that’s just like you , leaving all the hard work up to me ! ‘ ❜❜ he cannot help the roll of his eyes , though he fears he has gone too far this time they are equals , one unable to fight without the other , souls connected in resonance forever . what he wants to say : i’m sorry if i fail you / if you get hurt tomorrow , i’ll never forgive myself / i will always protect you . what he does say : ❛❛ ‘ stop worrying about the mission ; it’s only a kishin and we’ve beaten like . . . well , we had gotten the souls of ninety - nine before . ‘ ❜❜ voice hitches in his throat , a moment where he wishes he could have seen through blair like he sees through the others [ the souls taste like charcoal , lingering on his tongue even now ] . and yet he was blinded , falling so deep into their shared hubris that all he could consume was the feeling that they had succeeded . the feeling that he was finally more , finally something to be proud of . ❛❛ ‘ you’re falling asleep now , you’re practically drooling on me ; just go back to your bed before you pass out and i leave you here for the rest of the night . ‘ ❜❜
MAKE YOUR MUSE !
wait quick like this for a starter !
kyomeiu .
he is an anomaly in her eyes , somehow what she knows best though confuses her most : what she’d give to live within his head and see all as he does , if even for only a few hours or minutes or seconds. ( maybe then she could figure out all the right ways to remind him to care for himself , what it is he needs before pestering him with an impromptu game of twenty questions , every instance a part of the sadness that hides behind his eyes. ) upon an expected dismissal comes a soft sigh from the lips of his meister , a typical designator of her defeat … and yet she stops while she’s ahead , no longer set on picking his brain as she so insistently seemed to be moments before ( or as she told herself she was –––– no , she certainly didn’t come down faking such conviction because she would’ve been too nervous just asking for the comfort she craves ! )
“ i did go to sleep early. earlier than usual. ” she lets the grumpy comment slide , instead fixating on the holes she hadn’t accounted for in her story. such a flimsy defense ( a “ re - telling ” of the truth , more - or - less a ditch effort to spare her ego –––– GOD FORBID HE’S IN THE RIGHT ! ) lies in the crossroads between a whine and a gripe , fatigue - apparent voice barely above a whisper. like clockwork maka moves into him , body shift attuned perfectly to his as an arm raises to take her in. already does her stomach ease , humming softly in silent gratitude as her cheek meets the crook of flesh beneath his shoulder. she hooks her arm lazily across his chest , a hand laying over the adjacent hip to absently pluck at the frayed bits of his sweatpants. his words make her realize that nights like this have transcended the occasional ritual to something of muscle memory , to which she slightly seizes against him and suddenly feigns interest in the program playing on the tv. “ so what if i do? it’s not like i asked you to carry me last time , you know–––– ” and just as quickly as it’s said , she so - seamlessly tries to change the subject to something other than her habits––– “ what’re you even watching right now anyway? ”
THE NOISE OF THE TELEVISION HAS STARTED TO BLEED INTO ITSELF , the words from hours earlier warping and repeating itself over again , until there is a cacophony of static that rings in his ears . it seems like it has always been like this , so desperate to beat down everything that can break through the facade he has spent his entire life building with these toiling hands . but he will always let her in when he can hold the sky on his shoulders without wavering ( i would never burden you with this weight , i promise you ) , when he is at his strongest point . and even now , he can see her emotions brushed across her visage as clear as if she had said it herself ; this is a partnership like no other . and so he keeps building a wall to protect her , to save her from the pieces of himself he despises the most , the parts which seem to leave new scars that never seem to fade . meister can never see him the way he views himself , for she would push you away for someone who could truly fulfil her dreams [ someone who has not been stitched back together piece by piece , someone who has not fallen like icarus ] .
AND YET SHE COMES CLOSER , two halves of one soul resonating . it’s so easy like this , to allow himself to get swept up in every aspect of her ; this is what partners do , isn’t it ? her tenderness is displayed here these nights , something not bared to the world every occasion ; perhaps she has walls of her own he has yet to conquer . his touch is absentminded , digit tracing slow circles on the material of her shirt as she busies herself with the frayed edges of his pants . ❛❛ ‘ you can be a real pain in the mornings , y’know you wouldn’t survive the mission if you slept on the couch all night . ‘ ❜❜ there’s a laugh that breaks lose , not one of mockery and malice , but warm and filled with mirth . it’s all in jest , teasing commonplace between them ; this is what partners do , isn’t it ? his quivering fingers pause at maka’s next question , glance stolen away back to the screen . truthfully , he hasn’t been paying attention , mind wandering to all the different scenarios that could play out the next day . ❛❛ ‘ i changed the channel right before you came in , and it’s a commercial right now . but i think it’s some movie that i’ve probably seen a thousand times . ‘ ❜❜ he knows better than to ask how she’s feeling , knows she’ll tell him that she’s fine , that he shouldn’t worry like he does ; this is what partners do , isn’t it ? instead his hand travels to her head , bringing her closer to his chest ( to his beating heart ) , free hand taking the blanket bundled at his side and wrapping it around her until she’s swaddled in the soft fleece . ❛❛ ‘ you , uh you looked a little cold . ‘ ❜❜
dear diary,
i drank one gallon of cream
‘I want love, I want to be loved I kept looking for this treasure with my little hands’
kyomeiu .
@scythical· ♡’d
OH , THE MASKS SHE WEARS : friend , partner , confidant , something of a substitute mother ( or at least that’s what they say when she fusses , perfection threatened by those deemed less reliable than she. ) –––– and soul is no exception to her tendencies ( IF NOT THE ONE WHO BEARS HER NEUROTICISM WORST OF ALL ! ) , no matter the insistences that her reminders to eat , to sleep , to do his homework on time are all fruitless.
yet her pleas are merely reflections of herself , demands put on others because it’s easier to point than take a look the mirror –––––
it must be closer to one in the morning when she creeps out of her bedroom and into the living room , the dark of night illuminated by the tv screen once she’s out of the hallway. maka’s eyes squint to its illumination , still adjusting from the tenebrosity of her bedroom. she clears her throat so as to make herself known before approaching where he lay on the couch , batting his legs softly once with a palm as a suggestion that he should sit up so she can sit beside him. then slowly she sinks to his side , curling her legs into a ball and making herself small.
“ the tv woke me up. ” that much is a lie , albeit a little white one for the purpose of seeming CALM & COLLECTED : truthfully she couldn’t fall asleep anyway , her stomach a mess of nerves and butterflies impending the next morning. “ you shouldn’t stay up so late , soul. we have an important mission tomorrow –––– you can’t be all grouchy and tired for it. ”
DEEP BELOW HIS FACADE , he is just a boy , one who felt himself slipping into the darkness with each moment . has she seen how far you sunk , the way your mouth filled with the black blood until you were a mere shadow of yourself , struggling under the weight of it all silently ? his meister should never be privy to that , an new uncontrollable need to be strong for her overwhelming and all - consuming . it comes with every breath , every blink ; a meister cannot succeed without a weapon that matches their own raw power and talent . has he failed her , time and time again , disappointing the legacy she has to live up to ? even on days like these , when the pair are preparing for another mission , an uncertainty eats away at his mind [ no , you are not good enough to stand by her ; it’s your fault you lost the ninety - nine souls ] . and yet she has seen him through it all ; an unwillingness to leave his side in his weakest moments . ( oh , meister : do you know that i would trade my life for yours ? ) even now , as her shadow approaches him in this hour , the doubt picks slowly , and all he wants to do is scream .
HIS MOTIONS ARE LAZY , scooting over to give her as much room as she needs ( you can take every part of me , until i am nothing and i will still give you the whispers of my soul ) . she does this every so often , and it’s always the same : i can’t sleep / the tv woke me up / is blair back yet ? and he knows why her mind turns into a tornado these nights , a place that gives no rest ; because they are one and the same . it’s almost without thinking , an arm wrapping around her own frame . ❛❛ ‘ come on maka , we all know it’s you who’s grumpy in the morning . and if it was that important , you would’ve gone to bed earlier . ‘ ❜❜ but his body has grown weary , bulky frame slouched deep into the cushions of this worn - down couch . there’s a small yawn that escapes his lips , a pointed glance following down to his girl at his side . ❛❛ ‘ don’t tell me you’re falling asleep here again . last time i had to carry you back to your bed . and it’s not like it was easy ! ‘ ❜❜
bakusoul?
bakusoul <3
i am your weapon partner maka ! that means i'm always prepared to die for my meister ! ind . priv . highly sel . soul evans from soul eater . heavily manga based . written by whit . cred .
“I guess I was the uncool one of us today, huh?”