Away From the Sun
Poisoned Scarlett


She likes these streetlights because they take long to change: that means she can say more, stay with him a little longer. Because every time he pauses on a red light, the bike vibrating beneath her with a purr, he says something and she continues it or vice versa.

Although she had been reluctant to get on the motorcycle after she'd come out of the bakery earlier that day, he promised he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He even gave her his helmet although she felt like she was robbing him of something important because anything could happen on the streets. But he wouldn't take it back even if she forced him and she couldn't deny she felt a lot safer wearing it.

"Can you pay attention to the light, Soul? Do you want to get honked at for being slow again?" Maka sighs, but he just snorts.

"They can go around. I'll do what I want."

"You're such a—AH!" Maka squeaks when she feels she's slipping sideways off the bike, immediately clutching onto him. That was far too close, she thinks wearily, glancing down at the asphalt. The tip of her foot barely touches the floor. She decided she'll just hold onto Soul for now...

"Holy shit – Maka? You alright?" Soul asks, looking over his shoulder. But it's a little hard, with her clinging onto him and all. She's not nearly tall enough to balance herself on the floor using her feet, so she just growls promises of hurt and pain in his ear if he says one word while he bursts out laughing, successfully sealing those promises.

"You're the only person I know who can't even sit on a bike right!" Soul cackles the next time they stop, Maka's arms around his waist to anchor herself still. "You're not even doing anything – how did you manage to nearly fall off?"

"I lost my footing, okay? It could have happened to anyone!" Maka insists, flushing when he mutters the contrary. "Ugh, this is the last time I get on this thing… it's nothing but trouble! You should really invest in a car, Soul!" Maka grumbles, and he pushes forward on the green light with a shake of his head. She holds onto his shoulders this time, watching the empty and dark streets illuminated by streetlights; pools of golden coloring the cement something brighter.

"Who needs a car when you have a cool bike?" Soul counters, coming to a stop before her apartment building. He leans back, surprising her when he bumps against her chest and rests his head on her shoulder. "Cars are boring."

"But they can hold more people." Maka points out, her hands hesitantly holding onto his waist for balance. She can feel his hair brush her cheek, soft and unruly as always. She wonders just how he can stand having such rebellious hair and then thinks it rather suits him, being rebellious in nature anyway. "A motorcycle is inconvenient in many ways. A car would be a better alternative."

"Whoa, whoa." Soul holds a hand up lazily. "Take it easy, Maka. This isn't an essay." He snickers. She leans back with a frown and watches him nearly lose balance on the bike, arms flaying in a desperate attempt to keep them from tipping over completely. She presses against his back before he can sit straight after leveling the bike, silently giving him permission to lean against her like before. And he doesn't waste the opportunity, his fingers lightly resting on the handlebars of his motorcycle while she grows bold and wraps her arms completely around his waist.

"That was unnecessary."

"So was the essay comment."

"No, that was very necessary."

Maka rolls her eyes. She thinks back to Jackie and her comment, the disbelief in her eyes when she said they were just friends. If Jackie had caught on so quickly perhaps she wasn't as stealthy as she hoped to be. Perhaps she was as transparent as Liz had told her she was over the phone. But if she was as transparent as Liz said she was, then didn't that mean that Soul likely had an idea that she, kindasortamaybe, liked him a little more than friends should?

She buries her nose in his shoulder blade to hide her embarrassment.

It's late and they're just taking up space outside her apartment building, the soft purr of his motorcycle silenced when he finally turns it off. Now they're just left with a comfortable silence she doesn't plan on breaking anytime soon. After a few seconds, she moves to rests her cheek against the nape of his neck, unwilling to part ways with him yet. She will soon, Maka tells herself as if she would forget if she didn't.

"You got school tomorrow?" Soul asks.

"Yes," she says, deciding she really does like the smell of leather and body wash that comes off him. She closes her eyes for a moment as he speaks:

"Do you have to go?"

"Well, yes, I've never missed a class before." Maka frowns, befuddled he'd even asked. There was always the option of not going, and she didn't have very important classes tomorrow, but that didn't mean she'd ditch them. "Why?"

"Do you always have classes during the week?" Soul ignores her last question, voice edging on a whine. "Even my class schedule wasn't that packed!"

"That's you, Soul. I want to graduate early." Maka mutters stubbornly, fingers playing with the zipper of his jacket in a fidget. "So I have to take all of those classes. Professor Stein convinced me to take all of them so I could graduate early like him and my mom. It's a lot of work but I can take it," she adds, confidently. "Why?"

"Don't you have a day off, Maka?" Soul asks, exasperated.

She blinks. "Yeah, the weekend. I only go in for work at two on Saturday..."

"Good." He says, with finality. He leans forward, Maka frowning when she's torn away from his warmth. This has to be the only time she's felt comfortable on his motorcycle and it was because it was off and she was resting on his back, trusting he wouldn't let the bike fall sideways. "Wanna' go watch a movie on Sunday?"

She stares at the back of his head for a few seconds, digesting his words. The question would have been otherwise innocent if it hadn't been for the fact that his fingers are linking with hers on his hip; a taste of his warmth she can't pass up. She smiles brightly as she says: "Okay. But you're going to have to come all the way over here because I'm not coming to you, Soul."

She can hear the smirk in his words: "No problem. I'll pick you up at ten."


And that, she supposes, is how she became Soul Evans girlfriend and subsequently became plastered on the front of a magazine cover.

Not that she knew that until Liz squealed about it on the phone two weeks later...

But still, Soul was content with his life until she rolled up that magazine and proceeded to smack him with it for not saying anything.

A/N: And this is the end! Now, I have the option of continuing this in a sequel but I'm not sure if I'm up for that. After all, I have no idea what it would be about, although that's never been a problem before... I say: keep your eyes peeled, I may surprise you and post up a sequel :P