Theme: 28) Flippant

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

Learning by Example

Maka's first kiss was not all too pleasant. She remembered to close her eyes a second too late, and ended up having that terrifying pink pucker emblazoned in her mind for the many never-ending seconds they maintained lip-to-lip contact. He angled his head too high, giving her neck a crick. Their front teeth accidentally collided. His breath felt weird in her mouth. She pulled away too quick, too reluctantly. “S-sorry,” she apologized, flustered. He stared at her.

The situation was not cool at all.

She had her lips clamped down shut the whole way home. If that's how kissing was, she thought in embarrassment, then she was never kissing again, if she could help it. She wasn't sure who messed up, but she was sure that that was not how it was supposed to go. Well, she ruminated, it was his fault for getting too far ahead of himself. They hadn't even started hand-holding yet and he was just diving in without her permission.

“Oh, you're back. How was the date?”

Maka closed the door behind her. “Um,” she replied, then clamped her lips back together. It just hit her. She hadn't even thought of it. What if it was her fault for being romantically inept? Was the horrible kiss her fault, then? She suddenly wanted to cradle her face in her hands. Humiliating. She ruined her own date.

Soul frowned wryly. “Are you okay, Maka?”

“Fine,” she answered mechanically, surprised she could form something on her lips that wasn't going to blow her stupid secret. She sat down on the end of the couch and picked up her recently reheated bowl of carrot soup; she didn't even have energy to thank him. Soul sat on the other end, and the television was still going, but he was still looking at her.

“Did he break up with you?” he asked delicately.

“No,” she said petulantly.

“What happened?” he prodded. “You look funny.”

Would it be okay to tell him? Maka wondered. Soul had been her partner for years now. He could usually read her like a book. He wouldn't laugh at her, would he? Her hand went up to her mouth and rubbed at it gingerly.

Soul suddenly went still, eyes going round. “Did he kiss you?”

Maka turned to face him, startled. Her hand jerked down immediately to her side. Too late. She was already guilty. “N-no!” she responded belatedly.

Soul's eyes flicked back to the television screen, expression fading from concern to disinterest. It wasn't exactly the reaction she was expecting. He wasn't even cracking a Maka-chop-worthy joke. He didn't even ask about it.

“It wasn't good,” she uttered inaudibly, unexpectedly despondent. He glanced askance at her. She was looking down. The TV was still going.

Finally, she mustered a weak, “Thanks for the soup, Soul. Goodnight.” She got up, ready to trudge into bed and think about how she was going to dump the guy the next morning. She heard Soul shift in his seat. When she turned around, he was no longer there. She sighed, before turning back around and bumping into something that she was certain wasn't there a second ago.

“Did he do something to you?” Soul asked her, his gaze penetrating. “You don't seem happy, Maka.”

She took a short, surprised breath, blinking rapidly at him. He smelled sweet, like carrots and the detergent in her blankets. His breath was warm, comforting; she wasn't alarmed by his propinquity at all. It took a her a little while to formulate her thoughts; she didn't even know what she was saying until she was saying it. “It was . . . probably my fault,” she admitted, her words coming out in uncontrolled strings. “I don't know how to kiss,” she whispered, insistent red blooming across her cheeks.

Soul paused. “You . . . don't know how to kiss?” he repeated, with a hint of incredulity.

“Don't make fun of me, Soul,” Maka replied sullenly, unable to look at him in the face. Soul chuckled. Maka tensed. “It's not that funny. It's really stupid.”

He stopped. “Maka, I don't believe you,” he remarked playfully.

“Yeah, well, that's what happened,” Maka pouted. “I messed up. I'm going to bed now.”

He grinned. “No, that's not what I meant.” He glanced at the wall then back at her, choosing his words. “I mean, I don't think it's your fault, Maka.”

“But I--”

Soul smirked. “I think he's just a bad kisser.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?” Maka retorted, exasperated. “It's not like I--”

He leaned down, until he was eye level with her. Maka's next words died on her lips. “He was just a bad kisser,” Soul reiterated softly, moving closer. She stood there, terrified and frozen, until she felt his fingers gently tilt her face up. Her eyes closed. Their lips met. It tasted sweet. He tasted sweet.

He pulled away. She searched his face. He suddenly looked embarrassed. “That . . . that wasn't romantic or anything,” he refuted. “I was just showing you an example.”

Maka broke into a smile. She could learn by example.

fin.

A/N: Ahaha. Sorry for all the sap and cheese. When this fluffy plot bunny gnawed at me, it wouldn't let go. And, wow, almost a thousand words. What an anomaly for me. :)