Author's Note: this is my second contribution for SoMa Week! Yahoo! It was initially going to be only for the "Trust" theme, but then I realized this story is appropriate for Day 4's theme, "Fight". Funny how these things work out. Anyway, please read, enjoy, review if you like. Stay awesome, Soul Eater fandom.

It was a really shitty beer.

The bar smelled musty, the air was sticky and hot, and this beer was really, really, shitty. Soul had no idea why he was even wasting his time and hard earned money, ordering shitty beer after shitty beer, sitting at this disgusting bar, wasting his night away. There were a million better things he could be doing at the moment, like playing Xbox, or sparring with Black Star, or sneaking around in Kid's mansion moving every picture a few inches to the right, or even just sitting alone in his room listening to jazz. But no, he was here, drinking shitty beer at a raunchy bar, the only bar in town that wouldn't card when you walked in, which is why he was even able to be there. This fact also explained why it was filled with the filth of the town, and plenty of high schoolers and people who were clearly underage. If Maka knew he was here, she'd probably disown him as a partner.

Then again, that was pretty much the reason why he was at this shitty bar.

Maka wouldn't even so much as look at him these days. Conversation was kept to a professional minimum, only speaking when she needed to say something to him, which hardly ever required looking directly at him. He pretty much lived a solitary life at home, Maka retiring to her room to study every afternoon after school, only emerging to shower and make dinner. She wouldn't even sit with him to eat at the dinner table anymore, she always took it back to her room. It drove him insane. He'd rather be forced to deal with that ugly red demon torment him every day for the rest of his life than have to go through Maka's silent treatment.

The real stickler was that at school, with friends, she acted completely normal. Happy, bubbly, adorable, studious. She'd even flirt with Kid and Black Star right in front of his face. But as soon as he was alone with her, it was the cold shoulder again. He was positive that any day now, he would be notified of a partner transfer request. The thought of her leaving him sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't fear of not finding another meister; there were plenty of female meisters clamoring for his attention, sending him love letters and partner requests, probably praying for the day that Maka finally realized she was wayyyy too good to put up with Soul's shit all the time. No, he knew that he could find a new partner within a day or two if Maka ditched him. That wasn't why he was terrified.

He was terrified because if Maka left, he would lose all will to even be a death scythe anymore. She was the only meister for him, the only meister he ever wanted to be wielded by, the only meister he could see himself with. She was so much more than just his meister.

She was his everything. The one who kicked his lazy, angsty, selfish ass into gear and actually made him into something worthwhile. She made him a death scythe. She gave him a purpose, a reason to live. She brought happy, bubbly, innocence into his life, and made him smile when he thought he hated everything. He had given her everything, because that's what she was to him.

And he ruined everything they had, the fragile, perfect weapon-meister relationship they had, because he had let his feelings get the best of him, and he had kissed her.

It was hardly even a kiss. The second he had leaned in for it, he knew it was a mistake. The look of shock on her face, how she had frozen solid the second his lips made contact, how she pulled away after only a moment. Soul regretted it the second his lips touched hers. He didn't even know what made him do it, but they were about to embark on a dangerous mission in Russia and they didn't know what kind of enemy they were dealing with, and Soul figured if they were risking their lives, he didn't want to die without kissing her.

They had lived, obviously, but his hasty decision to plant one on her without warning had cost him their wonderful partnership. Soul would give anything for her to start acting normal again; he would even accept the fact that her feelings for him were simply platonic, as long as they could go back to the way things were before. Two stupid weeks of this bullshit snubbing from her had passed, and he honestly thought she would've gotten over it by now. He had to give her credit for being stubborn, for being able to hold a grudge this long.

Stupid Maka. Screw her and her stubbornness. He didn't want to, but he reckoned at this point that he should just forget about her, since she was going to switch partners any day now. Soul might as well start forgetting now. Forget her smile, forget her verdant eyes, forget her delicious bacon breakfasts she made for him whenever she was in a good mood, forget the way she wrinkled her nose when he interrupted her studies...

Fuck. He was a lost cause. He would even miss her Maka chops. Obviously she had succeeded in scrambling his brains enough that he was stupidly attached to her. Maybe he was a masochist.

"Hey there, pretty boy. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, hmm?" a squeaky, obnoxious female voice materialized in his ear and interrupted his depressing, self hating chain of thought. He turned his head ever so slightly. A busty, blond bimbo had seated herself next to him; she was obviously tipsy, by the way she was goofily smiling, leaning in closer to him, trying to make her chest pop out even more than her low cut dress allowed, giggling all the while.

"Awe, why the long face, cutie pie? You look like you need some good lovin'..." she giggled sloppily after Soul failed to answer her within a few seconds. She was leaning in dangerously close to him now.

"Sorry, miss, not interested," Soul muttered, attempting to push her away without touching her ample chest mistakenly. He was confused by his own reaction. Logically speaking, if he really wanted to give forgetting about Maka a fair shot, he would at least entertain this giggly drunk woman for a little while, maybe buy her a drink, but no. All he could think about was Maka, and how stupid he was, and how much he hated the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about her.

"Awe, are you sure? I could really show you a good time..." his female pursuer pressed on, apparently not wanting to take no for an answer. At that moment, Soul felt a buzz in his pocket. Curiously, he pulled out his cell phone, rather skillfully considering he was still pushing the drunk chick away from him, and flipped it open, revealing a text from Maka.

"Where r u? Its like 1 am."

Soul stared at the screen, flabbergasted. He was astonished that Maka cared anything about his whereabouts, considering she was acting like she'd give anything to get away from him. He suddenly felt compelled to go home. Maybe she was finally softening up and this was his chance to talk to her and put everything right.

"Bartender, I'd like to close my tab," Soul heard himself say suddenly, pushing his empty beer away.

"Aww boo..." wailed the blond chick, who was still sitting next to him. Soul paid her no mind as he stood up to leave. After the bartender handed him his card, he turned around and walked, with renewed ambition, toward the door. It was the most hopeful he'd felt in weeks, despite the fact that he still hated how devoted he was to her. Even when she hated his guts, he'd still drop anything and everything to go to her.

~x~

The apartment was dark when he opened the door, but he caught her thin, distinctive silhouette the second he walked in. She was standing in the kitchen, leaning her back against the counter, looking down at the floor. Nervously, he attempted conversation.

"Hey."

"Where've you been?" was her only response, her voice sounding glum and bored.

"I've been... out," Soul offered, not wanting to disclose the fact that he'd been at a bar to his already very temperamental meister. She didn't respond at first, and Soul decided to read this lack of response as an opportunity to approach her physically. He stepped into the kitchen; Maka raised her head ever so slightly. Whether she was going to let him come closer or move in for the kill, Soul couldn't tell. But he figured he was already a dead man walking, so he had nothing to lose.

"No shit you've been out. Where've you been?" Maka seethed, glaring up at him from underneath furrowed eye brows. Soul had crossed the kitchen now, and he was standing inches from her, the closest he'd been to her in weeks.

"Its really cute when you swear, Maka. Like a baby kitten pouncing on a toy mouse," he smirked, his amusement at her cute anger causing him to temporarily forget the direness of the situation. He reached to pat her head like he often did when he was poking fun at her. Before he knew what was happening, her arm had shot up to deflect his touch, as quick as an arrow.

"Shut it, Soul. Don't play cute with me. Where were you?!" Maka growled, through clenched teeth. Soul sighed, lowering his arm, looking at her with sad, worn out red eyes. He did not have the will, nor the strength, to fight with her now. He was so exhausted from her silent treatment that all he wanted was to surrender.

"You smell like beer," she accused him, still glowering up at him, smoldering. He could tell her anger was growing.

"Why do you care? What is it to you, where I've been? You've barely been acknowledging my existence for the past two weeks, and suddenly you demand to know where I've been?" he flung the angry words out at her as calm as he could possibly muster; if he started yelling, things could get ugly.

"Oh, I get it! You've been out drinking and hanging out with beautiful women as payback! You're trying to get back at me for ignoring you by seeing random chicks!" Maka yelled, fists balling up as she did so.

"What?! That doesn't even make sense, Maka! You don't make sense!" Soul snapped back at her, his voice growing slightly louder without his consent. Maka scoffed.

"Oh, I don't make sense? You wanna explain how I'm the one who doesn't make sense, Mr. Always Right and I Can Do Whatever I Want?!" she was practically screaming now, her weapon staring at her in disbelief, his mouth hanging open, eyes tense; it was with great restraint that he uttered his next statement.

"Maka, you ignore me, flirt with my friends, and treat me like a disobedient dog for two weeks, practically kicking me out of your life, then you get mad when I leave, and command me to tell you what I'm doing! That doesn't make sense! Whatever you're trying to tell me, Maka, just spit it out! Do you want me here or not?!" his voice cracked ever so slightly at the end.

"You kissed me! On a mission! Do you know how out of line that was?! What are you trying to pull, Soul?!" She was looking up at him directly now, eyes full of anger, her lower lip pouting out ever so slightly. Soul mused to himself in his head that if she wasn't so angry, he'd tease her about how small and unthreatening she was.

"I don't know what came over me that night, okay, Maka?! It was a really risky mission and I... I just let my feelings get in the way," Soul retorted, expecting her to tell him to pack his things and leave any time now.

"Your... your feelings?! What do you mean your feelings?!" Maka squeaked, cheeks turning pink, though from rage or embarrassment, Soul couldn't tell.

"Maka. There was a good chance we wouldn't come out of that mission alive. I wasn't thinking straight, I didn't wanna die without... without..." Soul stammered, searching desperately for the right words. "I wanted to kiss you before I died... but it was hardly even a kiss... and now you've made it pretty clear you didn't feel the same way..." his voice trailed off; he stopped himself before he could say any more. Maka's face suddenly hardened; Soul could detect a touch of fear in her shimmering emerald eyes as she took a deep breath.

"Soul. We are partners. We are representatives of the Grim Reaper and the Academy. Every mission we embark on we have a duty to serve, a responsibility to fulfill, a reputation to protect! You're a Death Scythe now! We have to be professional! We can't let personal feelings get in the way of our work!" Maka's hands were beginning to shake ever so slightly now, the fear in her eyes growing.

"Professionals? Work? Responsibility? That's what you're mad about?! My kissing you was unprofessional?!" Soul was flabbergasted. She lowered her eyes and proceeded to stare at the floor again.

"You don't get it, Soul. You don't think that I... I haven't... thought about you in that way? You think I didn't want to kiss you back? There's a reason why romantic relationships between weapons and meisters is discouraged at the Academy! They lead to weakness, heartache, irresponsibility! That's why I've been... suppressing..." Maka stopped herself. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Stop it, Maka. None of that is true," Soul said urgently, voice hardly above a whisper as he took her face into his hands. Tears were forming in her shining green eyes, and she instinctively grabbed his wrists, trying to wrench his grip off of her.

"Why do you fight it, Maka? If we have feelings for each other... don't fight it! Please don't fight it Maka..." Soul knew he shouldn't, but he was leaning in again, coming closer and closer to her face, as she frantically tried to shake her head in opposition. He had to take her extremely unexpected confession of romantic interest and run with it. Now or never.

"Please... just one... kiss..." he breathed as his lips touched hers once again. This time, however, she didn't freeze up. She didn't pull away, or try to fight him off. She had seemed to forget all about the fact that he smelled like beer, because she melted into him, pressing her soft lips into his, allowing him to pull her into his arms. Tears streamed down her face as they kissed, lips dancing, hungry yet somewhat shy; he kissed her with urgency, like it was the last act he would perform on this earth, and Maka didn't even realize that her tongue had pushed its way into his mouth, relishing the feeling of his sharp fangs. Soul found the taste of her lips to be intoxicating. After several long moments of delicious, delicate kissing, he pulled away, very reluctantly.

"That's what I meant our first kiss to be like, Maka," he whispered, still holding her damp face, looking into her sad eyes.

"Soul... this is... exactly what happened to my parents..." Maka sniffled, voice shaky and tears still rolling down her cheeks. Soul easily wiped each of them away with a simple brush of his thumbs, which only made Maka cry harder.

"They f-fell in love and it r-ruined them and n-now its happening to us... Th-that's why I'm suppressing my f-feelings for you... When I started f-falling for you I t-told myself I wouldn't... I wouldn't... let my feelings t-take hold and ruin us. I-I don't wanna l-lose you, Soul..." Maka stammered out her confession through suppressed sobs and shaky breaths. Soul's hands were warm, his eyes smoldering, never once looking away from hers; every second her resolve to stay strong was withering.

"Maka," he cooed quietly, tenderly, in a tone that made her knees begin to quiver. "Don't you see what you've done by saying this? Now you've got me hell-bent on proving to you how terribly wrong you are," he whispered, not without a bit of a chuckle in his voice. When Maka said nothing, confusion now settling on her tear-streaked face, Soul continued on.

"We are not like your parents at all, silly girl. For one, our partnership is much stronger than theirs ever was. Your old man has even said so, and you know its true, Maka," with his first reason, the tears had begun to stop rolling down her ivory cheeks, and she was now looking up at him with a pouty look on her face.

"For two," Soul continued, ignoring how incredibly adorable she was for the moment, "I'm proving to be a much stronger Death Scythe than your father, a fact that he's even admitted to. You made me like this, which means you're strong too, Maka," Soul's voice shook slightly towards the end of his sentence, in anticipation of his third reason.

"And finally, Maka..." his voice quivered again. "I am nothing, nothing like Spirit. When have I ever shown unfaithfulness to you? Have I not devoted my life to preserving your safety and happiness? Have I not been successful in protecting you from any potential harm that threatened you? When has my loyalty to you ever faltered?" he was asking her sincerely, eyes burning into her soul, his grip on her tighter than ever.

"N-never..." Maka whimpered, helplessly realizing how right he was. Soul had taken his loyalties and responsibilities as a weapon to a whole new level of devotion and seriousness. Maka could only think of all the times when he had risked his life for her, all the times he expressed frustration and anger at himself whenever he failed to prove strong enough, and his undying devotion to get stronger for her.

"And in the process, Maka... you've hooked me. I've fallen for you, and I've fallen hard. I am in so deep that I don't think I'm even capable of having feelings for someone else. Its only you. All I think about, all I want, the only girl I see... is you, Maka..." he murmured delicately, his face closing in to hers again.

"At this point, continuing to hide our feelings would only serve to hurt us. I can only think how incredibly happy we could be, if you'd just..." he began to say, but was abruptly cut off by Maka throwing her arms around him, jumping into his embrace so forcefully that he was almost knocked off balance.

"I'm just terrified of losing you, Soul!" she moaned, tears beginning again, hugging him tightly as his arms snaked around her waist. He said nothing at first, just holding her, letting her sob into his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around her thin frame.

"Maka, do you trust me?" he whispered in her ear after several minutes, after her sobbing seemed to calm down a bit. She suddenly looked up at him, eyes wide, face streaked with tears. The expression on Soul's face was serene, serious, his eyes burning, imploring her to answer him. She nodded feebly, unable to find her voice.

"Are you sure? You trust me, 110%, with your whole heart, your whole soul?" he asked her again, taking a lock of hair between his fingers, twirling it absentmindedly. Maka averted her gaze from his face, instead resting her forehead against his chest. She remembered the long, ugly scar plastered across his torso, beneath where she was resting her head, acquired so many years ago in an effort to protect her. He had almost lost his life, on her account.

"Yes," she squeaked feebly, her voice small and still shaky from crying. "I trust you, Soul. Even though I'm terrified." At this, Soul smiled.

"That doesn't matter. I know that I'm never going to hurt you, Maka. As long as you let me prove it to you, I have no complaints," he placed his hand on her cheek, stroking her soft, pale skin gently. "I would die before losing you." She smiled warmly, and looked up at him sheepishly through long, tear-soaked eyelashes.

"So, what now?" Maka asked quietly, at which a mischievous grin lit up Soul's face. He leaned in closer to her.

"I get to kiss you whenever I want?" he whispered darkly, playfully, as his face came closer to hers. She blushed, nodding, closing her eyes in anticipation.

As their lips met once more, Soul decided he was definitely a fan of that agreement. He would never tire of the feeling of her lips on his.