Chapter Text
"Soul, it's done cooking," Maka cooes, shutting the microwave with her elbow. Her hands are currently full with a bowl of popcorn (freshly made!).
As tradition, she sets the movie up while sitting on the couch. This practice had started about a year after the incarnate of madness, Kishin Asura was defeated by them. They would watch a movie, or movies, every Thursday night, to make sure they stayed close even with all their work, as they were both quite preoccupied with duties.
She looks forward to each movie night they have. She appreciates these little moments, as Soul is very busy as The Last Deathscythe and she, with helping Kid (now dubbed Lord Death). She'll take whatever time with him she can get. Hanging out with him is exciting on it's own, but on top of that, she doesn't want to drift away from him at all.
The first time this happened, he once sheepishly told her about a movie he wanted to watch, and they had ended up watching four and staying up till 2am. She fondly reminisces, it's been what, three years since then? They're both almost adults, but both of them still put importance on quality time with each other, which Maka loves.
He walks out of his room in his (shark themed) pajamas and she finds the corners of her mouth twitching up automatically. His hair is so tousled, and his eyes are so droopy, but he looks so.. comfortable. He's comfortable around her, and the butterflies in her stomach go wild for that, the fact that it's reserved just for her.
Loving Soul had become so normal for her. She doesn't know if he reciprocates these feelings, but that's fine. And even if he doesn't, she's happy. Spending time with him is enough, and she's content with loving him from afar. Maybe she'll confess later, for now, she just wants to enjoy just.. being beside him.
"Enjoyed your nap? You slept until evening." She snickers.
He rolls his eyes. "What movie are we watchin'?" He asks groggily, voice huskier than normal. She chuckles, he must've just woken up.
It's her turn to pick this week, so she takes major advantage of that.
"Conjuring. The first one," she says with a knowing smile. She knows full well that he's secretly scared of horror movies.
"Wow. 'Angel', my ass."
"What, are you scared of some fictional ghosts?" She teases.
He blatantly ignores the question, walking over lazily and sitting beside her on the couch. He sits very close to her, although there's enough space for three people. She likes that a little more than she wants to admit to.
Her eyes are on him the whole time, and she's trying not to laugh.
"What?"
"No, just your... ensemble." She gestures to his outfit, a very cute sharksuit.
"You were the one that gave it to me!" He retaliates.
It had been the best choice she had ever made. It was his seventeenth birthday, and she'd given him an oversized shark onesie as a joke-gift, and he had loved it. He'd wear it whenever he was lounging around at home and she appreciated every second of it, partly because he had been extremely happy he liked the gift, and partly because he looked so cute in it.
Even now, almost one year after when he's almost eighteen, he's still wearing it.
"It's still really cute." She grins.
"I'm not cute, 'm a badass deathscythe," he huffs, with the cutest lopsided grin ever.
"Sure, cool guy." Sarcasm practically bleeds through her words. "I'm starting the movie, by the way," she warns before pressing play.
She readies her arm, as it is going to get grabbed many times tonight.
When the Annabelle doll appears, he's trying his best to remain as poker-faced as possible, but blatantly fails. She's lived with him long enough to know what he really feels.
She doesn't understand how he can slice through evil souls, the damn Kishin itself, but get scared of this stuff. But, like a good partner, she comforts him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and smiles gently (with a hint of teasing) to reassure him. He stares at her, in the most dead way possible, pouting slightly.
She laughs at his expression, and goes back to watching the movie, hand still on his shoulder, gripping it to steady him.
She had been stuck with piles and piles of work this week, (Kid had been on a mission in Indonesia and she had taken the job of doing his work), she wondered why she even offered to help.
Just relaxing like this, taking a break and watching a movie with him, miraculously takes all that fatigue away. She snuggles up to him, wanting his warmth and comfort, which makes her worries seem like bugs that are easily squash-able, which he is oh so willing to return.
He reciprocates, subtly inching closer, and lays his head on her shoulder. This is one of the reasons why she loves these nights so much, they usually end up falling asleep in a tangle of limbs and she lives for that closeness.
The movie ends, and she decides that's where they should stop it, he seems like he'll pass out at any second. She leaves the TV on and strokes his hair with her fingers. He hums in response to the action, and he 'hmphs' in triumph, knowing he loves getting his hair stroked.
The faint light of the TV illuminates them, and it's only in this darkness, or subtle light, that she can truly admire him without having to worry about consequences. He looks peaceful, calm, and content. The way he can let his guard down around her, even if it doesn't seem like a big deal, it is to her. She feels special, you can say.
It's just him and her. Within each others' reaches, able to hear their heartbeats, souls pleasantly humming. He snores quietly and she can feel herself slowly falling asleep. The corners of her lips quirk up automatically, and she drifts off to dreamland soon after.