Maka had been neatly folding her laundry in her room. She'd done the darks that morning and had left the rest of it neatly sorted so that Soul could simply throw it into the machine without having to pay attention. It had become a routine with them - as good as Soul was at keeping house, he still didn't know what qualified as a medium and what made a dark, and would sit and ask her repeatedly if he was throwing the right color into the right pile. Part of her had wondered if he was just doing it to get out of doing laundry in general, but Maka wasn't about to have that.
The system had been working well for the past few months and she assumed it would continue to work well for many more. Yet, as she managed to neatly tuck away a handful of shirts into an empty drawer, she heard the strangled shout of frustration from the living room just as the door slammed and the storming of footsteps that seemed to get nearer and nearer.
Soul pushed her door open, growling and tossing a shirt into her face. A shirt that was a very pastel color that neither of them tended to wear often at all.
"They're all pink! What the hell happened to my clothes?!"
Maka moved around him, rather unfazed by his fit of rage, and went to sift through the white clothes in the hamper - or, well, the once white clothes, as it were. She smirked a little in amusement, glad to see that most of them were his whites and not hers. It was all the more amusing when she wasn't affected by it. After a moment, she gave a triumphant, "Aha!" before pulling out one faintly red button up shirt from the bottom of the pile.
"Guess you should've been looking more closely. It must've snuck in from the dark pile."
Growling, Soul reached out to yank the shirt from her hands, before pointing an accusatory finger in his meister's direction. "You did this on purpose. I know you did."
With a small eyeroll, she moved her way back into her room, attempting to get back to her folding as she spoke. "I did not, don't be such a paranoid baby. Not that it wouldn't be a good way to teach you a lesson about your color sorting. It's your own fault for not paying attention."
He tossed the red shirt at her head at that, huffing slightly. "I'm gonna get you back for this."
"Do a thing to my wardrobe and you're not getting any for a month."
With no particular comeback and sure that she was all too serious, Soul took his anger out on the clothed. He kicked the basket towards the trashcan, leaving the assumption that all of undershirts were now utterly ruined and he'd just have to go by more. It was impossible with that kind of leverage to win an argument against her anymore.
This is so uncool.