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Humans can detect the most shades of green than any other colour.
Soul doesn't remember exactly where he heard that fact, maybe on the TV, or during a rare moment where he actually paid attention during one of Stein’s lectures. Had they ever dissected an eyeball? Or perhaps Maka had told him.
That was the most likely option. Half of the things Soul knew that didn't pertain to music he had picked up from one of Maka’s ramblings, or her forcing him to study. Sort of like right now.
Here they sat in the quiet of the library, books strewn about Maka as she furiously read and jotted down notes in preparation for some exam (at this point in the year Soul couldn't distinguish which days were marked on his calendar for due dates, tests, or plans outside of school).
Maka had dragged Soul out of his bed at barely 8 in the morning to “get to the school to study and get some extra training in!”
Great. So when his brain was melting out of his ears he could go and exhaust his body and soul as well! Leave it to Maka to completely ruin his plans of lazing around all of Saturday. Oh well. The only plus to getting up early was being able to see Maka more.
The only reason he hadn't put up much of a fight that morning (which he would totally write off as being too tired to argue if asked) was that studying with Maka would last hours at least, and with the promise of training after he knew he would get to spend the entire day with her. Not that it matters to him who he hangs out with. He would gladly get up before noon to hang out with any of their friends!
Well…
He wasn't getting anywhere with the book in front of him. Soul had been staring at this same page for what must have been 7 minutes now. He just needed a quick reset.
He let his gaze drift off the blurring words to glance at Maka across the table from him. Her typically impeccable posture was slumped over slightly, glaring between her notes and her current textbook. Her thumb rubbed mindlessly over the corner of the page, a habit Soul had noticed she did when she was seriously focused.
Comforted with the thought he would (probably) not get caught staring, he let his eyes drag up her face before settling on her scrunched eyes. The normally bright green was dark with determination, her pupils sliding back and forth erratically as she reviewed her notes. Maka’s brow furrowed and she zeroed in on something in her notes. She muttered something under her breath before furiously erasing something and filling that space with something else.
Soul laid his head down on his crossed arms, book entirely forgotten by now. Her concentrated gaze was steady and became briefly clouded as she seemingly reviewed something in her brain.
This “studying” went on for another few minutes before Maka paused and looked up, her bangs falling into her eyes. She raised an eyebrow at Soul and he felt his face flood with heat. He glanced away quickly and coughed before leaning back into his seat.
When he finally gathered enough courage to look at her again, her eyes held a glint of suspicious mirth. No longer were they darkened with focus, instead the green was a lively shade. It sparkled with something unnamable as Maka leaned forward and placed her head into her hands.
“What, you can't even write your own notes now?”
Soul scoffed and leaned back even further until his chair was balancing on only 2 legs. At least she was as oblivious as a rock, or he would definitely be dead by now.
“As if anyone could decipher those,” he responded with an air of nonchalance. Maka spluttered.
“Just because you think ‘estimate’ is a big word” she made over-exaggerated air quotes. “Doesnt mean people can't read my writing! Besides, trying to figure out your handwriting is like trying to read hieroglyphs without the Rosetta Stone.” For extra effect, Maka rolled her eyes so hard Soul was surprised they didn't get stuck. With all her theatrics, she should consider an acting career if none of her brainiac dreams worked out.
“Psh, like anyones gonna try and cheat off me.”
Her eyes still shined with amusement, the colour reminding him of sunshine shining through dappled leaves in summer. It was crazy how quickly her moods shifted, and how easily Soul could tell from her eyes alone.
“So you were trying to get my notes…” Maka grinned. “Just ask next time ya dork. Also, you’re gonna fall if you keep leaning back.”
“As if, cool guys can’t-”
So maybe there was a reason he was a weapon and Maka was the miester. Balance was never his forte. (Though it was worth it to see her keel over with laughter, books completely ignored as her eyes welled up with tears at his stupidity.)
—--------------------------------------------------------------
Missions were never the same. Some days the pre-kishin was stupid and weak, and Maka was able to silence its soul in one hit. Other days, it was more difficult. And then there were the missions like today.
Maka was stubborn and reckless. Soul was head-strong and far too devoted. Whenever the pair were sent after a genuine threat, these characteristics tended to clash. Neither wanted to see the other in pain, and Death forbid there be a repeat of Italy.
It was the aftermath of defeating the pre-kishin. Maka was panting heavily, her clothes dirty and torn in places. Her face and legs were littered with scratches and bruises. As soon as Soul’s blade had ripped the kishin into slivers of shadow, he shifted out of his weapon form to face Maka head on.
He subconsciously grabbed the soul and swallowed it, crouching in front of Maka as he tried to stretch out his sore muscles. She had been disarmed by the pre-kishin earlier, and his view had been obstructed as he flew away. He had only heard grunts and the sound of her body being thrown aside before she had reached him and flew back into combat.
He stood up with a groan and slid his hands into his pockets. Maka didn’t look pained, just dazed.
“You good?”
She breathed and nodded stiffly.
“Yeah, just…need a moment.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Knowing she was probably bruised all over, he reached for her arm and waist to support her for the trip back to his motorcycle.
It was when his hand made contact with her torso did he feel it. The sticky and warm feel of blood staining her entire side. She let out a pained hiss and flinched, sucking her teeth in between her lips and kept her eyes shut. Soul’s arms grabbed her shoulders as she began to tilt forward, obviously dizzy with blood loss.
“Death, Maka!” He held her close as he lowered them to the ground, careful to not disturb her wound. He ripped off her black trenchcoat to get a better look at her and stem the bleeding.
“This stupid black coat. It hides your blood too well, we gotta get you a new uniform.” He gritted out as he pressed the cloth down. They were on their knees facing each other, and Maka pitched forward to lean her head on his shoulder, fingers flexing by her side as she tried to muffle her sounds of pain.
“It- ngh, has nothing to do with my coat. It’s fine, let's just go.” Soul knew about her distaste of being wounded in public. That prideful bastard.
Once Soul felt the wound stop its bleeding, he scooped her up. Maka clutched his shirt with a gloved hand. It wasn’t shaking thankfully, and he knew it wasn't as serious as it looked. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to gamble with Lady Luck today.
He kept her poised in front of him as he started up the engine, letting Maka lean back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her to reach the handle bars.
The drive back to the apartment wasn't long, thank Shinigama-sama. Soul tried his best to use fast routes and keep Maka from jostling around and opening her wound. When they finally pulled up to their building, he was a flurry of movement. Shutting off the motorcycle and kicking up the stand, scooping her up once again (ignoring her protesting) to carry her up the stairs.
He fumbled with his keys before kicking the door open. It was late, and Blair was nowhere to be seen. Good. He rushed into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Soul set Maka down on the rim of the bathtub, ordering her to keep her coat pressed to her side.
By now the dizziness had mostly worn off, and just left her irritable and tired. He riffled through their sink cupboard to find their first-aid kit, not indulging in any of her remarks that “it isn’t even that bad, i was just dizzy!” and “I’ll be fine. Jesus, you are such a mother hen!”
He gave her a look at the last one, finally pulling out the gauze and disinfectant. Soul scooted over to her and looked up at her for the okay as he pulled at her shirt. Her eyes were still cloudy, making the green appear as if it was shrouded in mist. It was paler than usual, but there was still the fire of stubbornness and something else he couldn’t name burning within.
She swallowed and nodded, looking away with a light rose adorning her face as he pulled her sweater vest up and off her head and began unbuttoning her blouse. He pulled down the sleeve to leave her right side exposed. When the cool bathroom air hit the scratch, Maka hissed again.
Soul murmured a quiet apology before making quick work at cleaning the wound, relieved that it wasn't deep. His fingertips brushed against her side lightly and he tried his hardest to not look up again. He knew if he made eye contact again, he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze away.
Once her wound was wrapped and secured, Soul stood and ruffled Maka’s messy hair. She grumbled but let him take out her pigtails. He left the bathroom, returning with a glass of water, some pain killers (“Only if you need them! I’m not calling you weak, you are putting words into my mouth, Maka!”) and a change of clothes.
“Do you, uhm. Do you need help changing?” Right. So cool, Soul! What happened to his tactfulness earlier? She was bleeding out then, his unhelpful mind supplied.
She snickered and smiled tiredly.
“No, it doesn't hurt that bad anymore. Now you better go change before going to bed. If you get blood in your sheets again you’re doing laundry for 2 weeks!”
Soul rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair and looking back down at her. The white bandages contrasted against her flushed skin, milky and littered with scars. This would just be another badge she would wear with pride. He let his and Maka’s eyes meet, and was relieved to see that the cloud of pain had lifted. Her eyes shone like emeralds in the sun and Soul believed that if he stared for long enough, he could fall into their endless depths.
And yet there was that undecipherable look to them, hidden within the layers of green and gold. It wasn’t anything new really. She had almost always looked at him that way, ever since they were 14. But never did she let her eyes linger when they looked at him like that. She was always the one to look away first.
“Yes Ma’am.” Soul did a mock salute and straightened out his spine for barely a moment before slouching back down. He moved aside their first-aid kit with his foot as he left, turning around one last time to bid Maka goodnight.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Maka always wore her heart on her sleeve. It was easy to be able to tell when she was upset. Getting her to tell him why she was in the first place? It was a tricky game, one where Soul had to play his cards carefully. One wrong word and he was sure to be shut out for even longer. But once he coaxed it out of her, she would sag with relief as she vented her frustrations to him.
The only time she ever truly kept anything to herself was when it was about her mom. The allusive Kami that Soul had only heard about through stories and imagined through pictures. Despite how much Maka idolized her, Soul couldn't help but feel a slight distaste for the woman.
He got it on some levels. Her husband and the father of her child was a womanizer and total douche. Letting someone into your heart (and soul) was something that should be reserved for those you trust with your life. Kami had done that with Spirit,and regretted it. He didn’t deserve her trust.
Soul’s own parents were foreign to love. Hell, Soul doubted they even loved each other. Wes was showered with something similar, something one would assume was love. But it was less than that. They never viewed either of their children as people deserving of love, but objects to be proud of after they were molded into the perfect heirs. It was worse when Soul discovered his weapon blood, they barely even viewed him as human before he left.
But abandoning your child? Leaving your only daughter with the very man you abhorred? Running away the minute the divorce was in the works, and trying to escape as much as possible even before? That was messed up.
For all that Soul bitched and complained about Maka’s overbearing sense of responsibility, he knew why she was like that in the first place.
It was Mother’s day.
Every Mother’s Day, Maka would write a card for her mother. She would send it to her last known location. There were some years that her cards made it to her mom. It was rare and it had only happened twice. Both times, Kami would send back a very small postcard thanking her and wishing her love. That was it. Simple 2 sentence cheap postcards of thanks. There was never an address for Kami’s upcoming station, never a phone number to call her at, nothing more than a “Thank you for the card, Maka. Love you lots!”
Those two cards had only been in the first two years of their partnership. After that, they stopped coming. Maka still diligently sends a card every year. She would go down in the morning to send it out, and check their mail on the way back. Recently, after Maka returned from their apartment mailroom, her own card from the previous year would be shoved at the bottom of the stack. Returned to the sender when the recipient was no longer there.
And each time, just like clockwork, Maka would silently leave their mail on the table and lock herself in her room for a few hours.
Soul always tried his best to cheer her up. He didn't need to get her to talk to tell him what was up, but he always tried to give her opportunities to. Movies late at night with a home-cooked meal, maybe dinner out somewhere nice, or going down to the park for a walk and stopping at a cafe.
When she returned this time, however, she did not immediately shut herself off. Maka set the mail on the table down slowly and Soul looked up from where he was mixing dough in the kitchen. He had decided to get to work on his “Im sorry your mom sucks” gift early this time.
She kept standing there, head facing down at the pile of papers on the table. Soul was confused. She would normally retreat to lick her wounds by now, why was she still here?
Just as he turned to face her and ask her what was up, she barreled into him, putting her arms around his waist and squeezing. He froze for a moment before he melted into the embrace. It wasn't like they didn't touch, it was just..odd for a moment of self-inflicted vulnerability.
Soul grasped her waist and he felt her hiccup, crying freely now. He rubbed soothing circles on her back until she was all out of tears (for the moment). She pulled back but left a hand resting on his sides, sniffing and using her free one to wipe at her face.
Her eyes were watery, so different from when she was crying from laughter. That usual fire that drove her was diminished, barely noticeable as it drowned in her pain and misery.
“I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry, Maka.”
They both paused and she let out a small hiccuped giggle. The juxtaposition between her twisted mouth and those sad, sad eyes was startling, but knowing that it was him that made at least part of her happy was better than any medal.
Her irises gleamed with appreciation, the green gaining back some of their fierceness. Soul grinned and lightly poked her forehead.
“There’s nothing you should be apologizing for, dummy. Needing a hug isn't some unforgivable sin.”
There it was. Maka rolled her beautiful eyes and jabbed him just beneath his ribs.
“Oh whatever. Like you’re any better.”
Soul shrugged half-assedly. She has him there.
“Eh, maybe not.” The conversation lulled, their souls intertwining and holding on to each other.
“Do you wanna talk about it..?” He didn't need to specify.
Maka paused and thought it over.
“I- yeah. I think if I don't I’ll explode or something.”
“You don't have to force yoursel-”
She raised a hand and Soul clamped his jaw shut.
“No. No, I…I want to. But, if it’s alright…could I help?” Maka gestured to the dough sitting on the counter.
“Bake and chat? Why the hell not.”
She smiled and it seemed as if the storm in her green eyes had finally passed. They still swirled with emotions, but the light of happiness outshone any melancholy clouds.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t nearly as late as Soul and Maka had expected to return by, the clock on the microwave showing 7:45 PM. Maka kicked the front door closed and peeled her boots off, leaning against Soul. They were sent off on a mission this morning, and most of the trip had been traveling and tracking the pre-kishin. Jet lag was hitting them both and they wanted nothing more than to go to bed.
But Maka insisted they stay up until at least 8:30 before hitting the hay.
“Messing up our sleep schedules will do nothing but cause more problems for us tomorrow.”
Soul rolled his eyes and toed his own shoes off. Neither were injured (thankfully) and Maka had already ordered dinner on the drive home.
“Right, like you don't stay up till 3 in the morning reading on school nights. How scandalous of you!” Soul snipped back as they both wandered down the hall, Soul to the couch to lay down and Maka to her room to change.
“And who is the one who wakes up early enough to make breakfast? Hmm…And where do you think you are going?” Maka stood with her hands on her hips, eyes droopy with exhaustion.
Soul gave her a look and pointed to the sofa, then to himself. He made a sleeping gesture with two hands below his face and pretended to snore.
“No! Soul, you are all gross. Go change.”
“I was in weapon form when we fought! I didn't get dirty!”
“I don't remember you being demon steel when you slipped and fell into mud when we were following the kishin…”
Damn it.
“Its just on my knees, if I lay on my back-”
But Maka had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him to his room. Even bone-tired, she was strong as hell and he knew he stood no chance as she pushed him into his room.
Oh well. If he was already here he might as well. He peeled off his clothes (so maybe he was a little sweaty and dirty) to throw on clean pajamas. He was attempting to brush the gel out of his hair when Maka knocked on the doorframe and stuck her head in.
“You wanna watch a movie?”
Soul nodded and winced as his fingers caught on a knot. He gave up on his hair and followed Maka out of his room.
“Put something funny on, or at least something we’ve already watched.” Soul threw himself onto the couch and practically melted into the cushions. He was not going to stay awake for any longer than 15 minutes, Maka and her ‘logic’ be damned.
“Hmm…” Maka crouched in front of their DVD collection to browse. “E.T. sound okay?”
Soul gave a vague sound of approval, and Maka slid the disk into their DVD player. As she rose to return to the couch, their doorbell rang. Maka slipped out of the room to answer the door. Soul overheard her tired greeting and thanks and the shutting of the door. The smell of pizza woke Soul up from his dozing state and he sat up.
When Maka didn't return, Soul got up to investigate. She leaned over the counter eating and she looked up when he entered the kitchen.
“Why didn't you just bring the food to the living room,” he grabbed himself a slice and leaned his back on the counter next to Maka.
She tilted her head to get a better look at him, still slumped over the counter. Despite sleepiness forcing her eyelids down and shading the green of her irises, her gaze was unwavering.
“The countertop is cold, it keeps me awake. Plus, a shorter trip to the fridge to put it away.” She shrugged and took another bite of her slice.
The rest of their meal was eaten in relative silence, save for the occasional curse when someone (Soul) dropped food on the floor. Once they had their fill, meister and weapon wandered sluggishly back to the sofa.
Soul once again flopped down, leaning against an armrest while Maka grabbed the remote and sat next to him. She pressed play and as the opening credits began rolling he felt her slouch into the cushions further.
He leaned on his arm balanced on the arm of the couch and ran his hand through his tangled hair. He would have preferred to not fall asleep with it still tacky and knotted and make a worse mess to untangle tomorrow morning.
Maka apparently noticed his fiddling and brought her arm around his shoulders to push him down onto her lap. He fell with a soft grunt and looked up at her in surprise. She looked down at him as well and just the way she looked at him left him hooked.
Her eyes were still muted with weariness, but with that hue came a depth that seemed to let Soul peer straight into her. It was if he could reach up and run his hands through thick foliage, uncover any secrets she wanted him to find.
He coughed and regained (most) of his senses in order to ask her.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
Maka kept looking down at him and she lifted a hand to thread it in his hair, gently working her fingers to undo any built-up gel and clumps of tangled hair.
“You gave up earlier, and I know you hate sleeping with super messy hair…” She trailed off after that to focus on a specific knot. If she kept this up, he would be asleep in less than a minute.
“Mmh- wait.” She lifted her hand and let it hover between them.
“Sorry, did I tug too hard?” Soul shook his head and sat up again. He gestured for her to lay down against her armrest. Once she did, he let himself collapse on top of her. He laid his head against her collarbone and her hand returned to his white locks to massage and brush.
“This way, when I end up falling asleep you won't be stuck in an upright position,” He muttered against her neck. He felt the skin beneath him grow warm, but he kept his eyes shut and merely nuzzled closer.
Neither of them ended up seeing the ending of the movie.
(And when Blaire returned home from a shift at Chupa-Cabras at nearly 2 in the morning, she would coo at her precious ‘kittens’ cuddled up on the couch together and drape a blanket over them. And definitely take some photos.)
—---------------------------------------------------------------
Like so many things with Soul, he fell in love slowly. It was less of a wave hitting him and more like gentle rain cascading onto them. Having their souls so intimately intertwined made them get to know more about each other than themselves, it felt like they made a home within the other. A special place just for them. For him to be who he truly was.
The line blurred between friendship and romance frequently. Atleast, it felt like it did to Soul. He never knew for sure with Maka, and he would rather die than try and force her into anything. (Though he would most likely be getting killed by Maka.)
Really, Soul was already as devoted and in love as he could possibly be. Even if she didn't love him like he did, he was more than content to be her loyal weapon. Partners and friends with his soulmate was more than he could ever dream of.
The year was coming to a close. It was New Years Eve, Kid hosting a party at the Gallow’s Manor to celebrate another year they managed to live through. Despite Death City being located in the middle of Nevada, winters still sometimes held a bite to them. Soul ran warm, deemed the apartment furnace by Maka and Blaire. Maka on the other hand, was too adjusted to the arid desert climate for the winters. By the fifth time Soul heard her shiver, he knew the chill was getting past her 3 layers.
Everyone was gathered outside the Manor, bundled up in preparation for the New Year’s fireworks show. Black*Star and Liz were trying to keep the bonfire going while Kid kept making them rearrange the firewood to appear symmetrical from all angles.
Everyone else was chatting mindlessly, enjoying the anticipatory and excited mood. Soul and Maka were standing near Tsubaki and Jackie, Maka slowly nursing her third cup of hot cocoa. There were only a few minutes until midnight.
When Maka shivered yet again, pressing closer into his side, Soul sighed and began unwrapping his scarf. Somehow, between the two of them, they only owned one scarf. It was an old gift from Liz, dark red with piano keys lining one side. It was originally a gag gift after their fight in Alaska, used to ‘congratulate’ Soul on finally playing the piano for them. Maka had refused to wear it anytime they went out, claiming it was “his, and red wasn't her colour”.
(Soul heavily disagreed on both those accounts)
Maka looked over at his jostling in confusion, and started to splutter when she saw him taking off his scarf. Her cheeks and nose were already pink from the cold and her eyes were as wide as saucers, letting the flames before them dance in their reflection.
Soul reached over and wrapped the scarf around her exposed neck. He tied it off tightly and patted her shoulders, fixing her with a deadpan look.
“There. Now you can stop shivering so much.”
Maka blinked and there was a pregnant pause. Suddenly, she began giggling. It started off quiet and tender, but soon she shut her eyes and was leaning forward to smack her head against Soul’s. Her laugh was contagious and Soul couldn't help but let out his own confused chuckle.
Once her fit died down, she leaned back to wipe at her eyes. Her face was flushed not with cold now, but with happiness…and that unnamable emotion. Her green eyes gleamed in the night. The stars couldn't even compare to the light that was Maka’s eyes. Her stare was fixed on him, and only him. He knew he would follow her to the ends of the Earth and beyond with just one look from those beautiful mossy eyes.
“Why’re you laughing at me? Can't be nice anymore without being made fun of..” Soul huffed, still letting his own eyes latch onto hers. Her smile only grew.
“I wasn't laughing at you, per say. Just…” Maka trailed off. By now, all their friends had seen the time, and Black*Star let out a loud whoop and started off the one minute countdown.
“59! 58! 57! 56!”
Soul raised an eyebrow. They were still close, close enough to feel one another’s breaths in the limited space that separated them.
“Just what exactly? Cool guys can be nice”
“Oh, come one, Soul. We both know you gave up that ‘cool guy’ shtick years ago.” She lightly flicked his forehead, but let her hand linger to brush away some stray hairs. When her hand fell it ended up resting on his shoulder.
“-50! 49! 48! 47! 46! 45!”
“Yeah, because it isn't an act anymore- OW.” Maka still chopped him over the head for that. She never would change would she? He didn't want her to.
“-40! 39! 38! 37! 36!”
Her eyes were still soft. They gazed at him, jumping around his face. They briefly landed on his mouth and he saw he flush even more somehow. He wasn't any better. The green were no longer the fierce sharp edges of emerald, but rather the soothing waves of an endless green lagoon.
“-28! 27! 26! 25! 24! 23!”
He let his lips twist into a jagged smile. Soul felt them slowly gravitate towards each other and time felt useless to them. They were in their own little bubble. He felt the prodding end of her soul reaching out for his and he reciprocated, sparking up a slight resonance.
Maka’s eyes were still trained on him, and the way her features seemed to relax into a look he had never been able to study properly made his stomach churn in the best way possible. It was an expression that managed to escape any and all understanding of her.
“-16! 15! 14!”
It was then, with their weak resonance connecting them, and her gaze only focused on him, did it click.
“-10! 9! 8!”
Oh.
“-7! 6! 5!”
That look… It was love. She loves him.
“-4! 3!”
“I love you.” It was that final puzzle piece that gave him a surge of confidence. They were barely a hair apart now, noses bumping.
“2!”
Maka smiled softly, letting love paint all her features. It bled from her pores. It baffled Soul. How could anyone love him this much?
“1!”
“I love you too.”
He barely heard the whoops and hollers as the fireworks went off, signaling the start of the new year. Maka’s eyes were set alight by the mirage of colours exploding above them. And yet, despite the kaleidoscope of shades swarming her, her green was still the only colour Soul saw.
He felt her hands shift to the lapels of his jacket, and she only had to give one tiny tug before they were crashing into each other. Her lips were soft, and chilled from the night air. And they were Maka’s.
He let his arms wrap around her figure as hers found their place around his neck and in his hair.
All noise and colours fled from his awareness. All his senses were trained on Maka. The feel of her coat underneath his fingers, the smell of her green tea and vanilla shampoo, the taste of her chapstick, and the sound of fireworks and… too close shouting.
When they finally pulled back, Soul sucked in a large breath and saw Maka do the same. They stared for a moment before bursting out laughing.
He felt someone smack a hand down onto his back, jostling him. He turned around to see all their friends laughing and cheering. Both for them, and the ongoing fireworks show. Maka hid her face in Soul’s neck in embarrassment and Soul flipped off Black*Star who only grinned in response.
“Happy New Year, Maka.” Soul whispered, and he felt her smile, both on his neck and in his soul.
Because maybe humans could see the most shades of green. But only hue would
(And when they got home, both of their phones were bombarded with texts. Photos from nearly every angle of their kiss and even beforehand. Liz had already sent their group chat a google doc of all their “overly friendly” interactions she had had been adding to for years.
And somehow, Blaire managed to send a few photos of them interacting in the comfort of their own home. Including the one of them cuddling.
“Oh man, we are never living this down. I hate our friends.”)