Un/Constant [SoMa]

For Maka Albarn, there were a few constant occurrences which she had become accustomed to.

One, for example, was waking up and getting dressed at 6, be it weekday or weekend. Another was preparing breakfast and dinner every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Every Saturday, she would go purchase groceries for the week. Every school night, she would look over notes taken in class that day, and practiced and researched until she understood. Sundays tended to be lazy days, where she would stay at home and read or watch TV (unless there were some leftover chores) and would go to bed promptly after eating the dinner her roommate prepared for her.

These kind of events tended to give her some sort of order in her hectic life.

However, there were unexpected things that she enjoyed too.

Every once in awhile, she would wake up to the sounds of birds or the sun streaming in. She enjoyed her mornings leisurely on those days.

Another, of course, was going out with friends.

One unpredictable thing she liked in particular, was her roommate.

He was around the same age with terribly messy white hair which seemed to stick up at every angle. He had peculiar red eyes which would portray strongly felt emotions easily, and even peculiar sharp jagged teeth. He was laid back and loud and seemed like a total troublemaker.

But he was so much more.

He was hard working and clever, despite his grades in school. He was considerate and kind, ignoring all the times he frowned and scowled in public. His appreciation in music was superb, and his piano playing even better.

To Maka Albarn, Soul "Eater" Evans was a hurricane in her world and in her soul and in her heart.

His very being was a forceful storm whom she gave the power to break her down, like a typhoon forcing the waves to crash and destroy wooden houses by the beach.

Even so, his very presence tended to calm her, as if just him being alive was a sign that everything would be okay.

His words held weight and his thoughts were heavier. She trusted him wholeheartedly and respected him wholeheartedly.

To her, he was an enigma, yet she felt like she was being dissected by just a glance by him. Soul seemed to peek into her thoughts and read into every action she made. It was almost unfair.

It was unfair.

It was totally, totally, unfair.

He was the most unpredictable thing to her, and yet he was the only thing constant.

Sometimes, rather than birds or the sun, Maka would wake up and smell food being cooked or hear his low, gentle hum. Every once in awhile, even if it was her day to cook, Maka would go to the kitchen and find a meal already prepared. Walks to the grocery store would be taken with Soul, and on occasion they would ride his motorcycle which gave them the opportunity to take a detour. Every school night, she would bid him goodnight, but every so often she'd be woken up later by hearing him stumble into the kitchen. Sometimes she'd find a note written and slipped under her door, or attached to the window, or hung on the fridge, or maybe even on the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. On Sundays, he would convince her to watch his programs, which half the time she actually enjoyed, or he would convince her eating out was a must (even if it was his turn to cook then anyway).

And sometimes, rarely, Soul would sit down, and play the piano for her.

Sometimes, rarely, Soul would wake up first, and she'd hear him open the door and feel him watching her to pretend to sleep, before whispering 'I love you' and then retreating.

Sometimes, rarely, Soul would make a comment about an outfit or hairstyle she wore during the week, and tell her she looked cute.

Sometimes, rarely, Soul would hold her hand, telling her it was too cold, or even for no reason at all.

Sometimes, Soul treated her like she was the most amazing person in the world.

Soul would stare at her, and his blood red eyes explained everything she meant to him and everything he meant to say.

After a fight, Soul would knock on her door, and quietly apologize.

Sometimes, distractedly, Soul would touch her hair and quietly play with it.

Sometimes, lovingly, cautiously, calmly, nervously, Soul would reach her-

Soul would hug her.

As crazy and as hectic her life was, his daily occurrence in her life gave her energy and brought her joy. She loved him as if it was some sort of secret, not willing to be told.

Yet she loved him as if it was the only thing she knew how to do.

She loved him as unconsciously as breathing.

She loved him.

And he loved her.

And when she woke up at 6 one summer morning, and found him laying next to her, she smiled to herself and gladly went back to sleep.