Oh, Death...

Maka covered her head with her pillow, and she felt herself jump as another loud thunderclap sounded through Death City. Maka couldn't help but whimper a bit, clutching her sheets.

Maka had a secret fear of thunderstorms, she had been afraid of them since she was a child. It was a silly thing to fear while she was indoors, but some fears didn't have to make sense.

You just had them.

The wind howled and pressed against Maka's window, making her think that her room was going to collapse around her at any moment. She sobbed into her pillow.

This was going to be a rough night.

Across the hall, a certain white-haired weapon's eyes snapped open. He jerked his earphones off (which he typically slept with on his head) and listened for another second. There it was again, the thunder rumbling in the distance.

Memories of a tear-streaked meister filled his mind, and he remembered his meister's irrevocable fear of storms. He quickly threw off his covers and hopped up to his feet, running to the opposite side of the hall.

When he opened his meister's door, he saw that she was already struggling, all her sheets and pillows piled on top of her. He rushed forward and began to pull off her numerous layers.

Maka felt his strong arms wrap around her, pulling her from the pillows that she had piled on top of herself. Soul tucked Maka into him, and Maka buried her face into his chest. Another loud crack rang out, and Maka jumped, causing her body to rub up against Soul's. Soul took in a sharp intake of breath, but he tried to keep his heartbeat down for Maka's sake.

Soul had felt a growing connection between him and Maka, going further than partners, or even friends. But he also knew that this connection was a one way street: so, Maka had no idea that Soul was beginning to feel attracted to her. It took every ounce of his self-control to not break out and tell her, or reach out and touch her…feel her lips on his…

Soul shook his head. It was dangerous to think of these sorts of things while she was so close, so accessible. Plus, he shouldn't think about those types of selfish things when Maka was suffering.

Soul stroked Maka's hair, and she felt her rigid muscles relax ever so slightly. Soul was her rock. He had a certain calming effect on her, even though he could drive her up the wall. But Maka always knew this: Soul would never leave her side.


Soul began to hum, and Maka let out a shuddering breath. It was an unfamiliar tune, but that made her focus on his voice, and not the terrifying sounds from outside.

When Soul seemed to have finished the song and was taking a breath to start it again, Maka interrupted him.

"What song was that?" she asked, seizing another handful of his shirt as the sky slammed it's massive hands together.

Soul's heart pounded against his chest, both from feeling Maka's small hands clutching to him for support and from the question that she had asked.

It was a song that Soul had written just for Maka during one of those numerous nights when he couldn't get his meister out of his head. He wasn't about to tell her that, though.

Soul shrugged. "Just something that came to my head."

Before Maka could question his answer, the storm grew worse tenfold. Maka cried out in alarm, and she dived into Soul's lap.

Realizing what she had done, she let out a weak, shaky laugh. "S-Sorry," she said.

Her teeth were chattering.

Soul wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, trying to ignore how close she was. "It's okay…" he said.

He started up her song again, but it didn't seem to soothe her like it did before. The thunder claps were sounding every few seconds, and Maka trembled more and more the longer that it went on.

After the longest night of Maka's life, Soul had used more self-control that he had ever used in his life. The storm began to subside, and Maka began to breathe a little easier. Her eyes began to droop, and Soul could tell that she was exhausted.

"You okay?" he asked her, and she nodded sleepily.

He kissed her forehead, laying her down on her bed and pulling her sheets up to her chin. He stroked her hair for a minute, watching as her previously haunted face grew peaceful. He kissed her head again, then began to walk quietly out of the room.


Soul turned around, but his meister's eyes were still closed.


Maka sighed, as if savoring the sound of his voice. "I love you."

Soul paused for a minute, just watching his meister. Her eyes were still closed, which made him wonder if she was the one who had said it. But there was no one else in the apartment. But… she couldn't have said it. She must have been dreaming…

"You're dreaming, Maka." Soul said, chuckling a little at her.

"No," she said. Her eyes opened and she smiled. She was looking right at him. "I'm not dreaming. I love you, Soul Eater Evans."

Soul rushed forward to her, kneeling in front of her bed. He looked right into her eyes, trying to see if she was sleep talking. But she wasn't. She seemed wide awake.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

Soul grabbed the back of her head and pulled her lips down to his.

It was better than he had ever imagined.

He drew away just enough to speak. "I thought that-"

"You thought wrong," said Maka, and she pressed her lips to Soul's.


"You didn't answer my question," Maka said.

Soul smiled under Maka's lips. "Yes. I love you."

"Good," she said, and she kissed him deeper.

Soul's mind was overrun. There were no thoughts in his head, just a low buzzing sound. He let his instincts take over, and before he knew it he was on Maka's bed, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"You know what, Soul?"

"Hmm?" Soul responded, not wanting to take his lips off of Maka's.

"I don't think I'm afraid of storms anymore."

"That's too bad," said Soul, rubbing his hand on Maka's back. "I was hoping for more nights like this."

Maka giggled, tangling her fingers in Soul's hair. "Soul, I'm planning on a lot more nights like-" she pulled him closer to her, so that her body was almost unbearably close to his. "this."

She kissed him even deeper, and Soul felt an experience similar to being pulled under water.

"I'm looking forward to those nights," he said, running his fingers through her hair.

Maka giggled. "Me too."