6Maka leaves angry.
Soul lets her.
The apartment is too quiet.
The girls at Shibusen are too loud.
Spirit is relentlessly annoying
And Stein is full or smirks.
Nothing is different.
And nothing is the same.
His mood has not improved since.
He finds himself lingering in the door to her room,
And leafing through her half finished books.
She's only gone for a week.
He feels restless after a day,
Antsy after two,
Insane after three.
He curses his black blood.
With his meister gone,
He is approached by others.
Most of them are girls,
Pretty girls.
They are girls he should want.
He can't bring himself to care.
They just remind him that for now,
She is gone.
He only has nightmares.
The black blood,
And his little demon,
Mock him,
Push him.
He wonders is this how it would always be
Without her soul?
He can't remember what they were fighting about.
He finds he cares more than he'd like.
He considers the offers from pretty girls.
When did they stop being pretty to him?
Blair approaches him,
Brushes up against him,
He barely blinks.
Her touch is not the same.
He stops sleeping.
There's no point without her.
He doesn't want to face it alone,
He worries of what he will do if he does.
She will always pull him back,
But she is not here.
For now,
It is only him.
He plans to be ready for her when she returns.
So of course he isn't.
He has been sleepless for two nights,
Wrong for seven.
She comes home warily,
To the smell of burning curry.
He swears and spins.
She is smiling.
One word is blurted.
Hands are shaken.
He pulls her in for a hug instead.
He swears she'll never know how uncool he is,
Without her.
He apologises for burning dinner,
And,
For other things.
She is home and,
He sleeps free of bad dreams,
Her calming wavelength just down the hall.
He feels it lean against his.
It feels like her hand in his.
He'll never tell her so,
But they've just proven,
How much better he sleeps when she's nearby.
It hits him like one of her hardcover books.
Soul mates.
He thinks of the Book of Eibon
And he realises,
It's not the shape or form,
It's the soul.
But sometimes,
It's the shape and form too.
Soul resonance comes fast and strong.
He plays his piano madly,
Waltzes her around the black room suavely.
Together they fight a monster,
And win.
He transforms, his hand still in hers,
And he wonders,
When did she become beautiful?
It scares him,
But he knows it will scare her more.
So he acts as if nothing is different,
And accepts the Maka chops as they come.
Nothing terrifies her more than the thought of relying on a man,
Except maybe falling in love with one.
But,
She relies on him.
Eventually,
The nightmares come to her too.
They tease her with insanity and fear.
They bring her to his bed.
He does not complain,
Though he will tease in daylight.
He says nothing,
When her pillow becomes a permanent fixture of his room.
He can't remember when she stopped cursing all men.
He wonders how long it's been.
It's been almost four years since he told her,
"Cool guys don't cheat on their partners."
It's been almost two since her hand became a regular part of his.
And about one since he realised things are different.
Time doesn't bother him.
It's not planned by either party,
It's just one of those things that happens.
Her lips on his.
There's a lot of yelling after,
Heavy silence,
And awkward conversation,
And miraculously,
More kissing.
Nothing is perfect,
But when it is,
They enjoy it.
Souls keep resonating,
Partners always fight.
They fight enemies,
And each other.
Though making up is more fun now.
No announcement is made.
Her pillow stays on his bed,
His hand stays linked with hers.
Kisses are stolen,
And taken openly.
They are partners.
They are soul mates.
They are Soul and Maka.
