Best Way Not to Get Your Heart Broken

Chapter Five - Sleep

"Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul..."

Soul groaned into his pillow, pulling himself further into the covers, near enough tucking them over his head. His bare back was being repeatedly prodded with what he assumed was a kitchen utensil as he could smell bacon and eggs. Normally, he was in the moment the smell hit his nose, but his insomnia kept him up late last night and he fell asleep an hour before. Not even food could get him up.

"Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul..." Maka went on relentlessly, the prodding making him genuinely believe he was bruising.

"Makaaaaaa..." he groaned into his pillow, burying his head further. There was a moment of silence, even the prodding stopped.

"..."

"..."

"You finished?" he grumbled, lifting his head up slightly to look at her.

Her long hair, which she usually left hanging past her hips, was still in its messy bun she'd put it in for bed the night before. He could tell she'd slept well, for Tsubaki had spent the night at Blackstar's so Maka had the bed to herself. She was in her pyjama bottoms and a baggy shirt that more or less hung off her, exposing her collar bones and one shoulder. She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes before continuing with her previous ministrations.

"Soul, Soul, Soul, So-"

"Alright! Alright, I'm up, for fuc-"

"Less of that," she warned, pointing a spatula at him. He rubbed his bare back and glared at the tool before at Maka through heavy lidded eyes. He then turned to pull and clean top from his wardrobe and thrown it on, turning around with raised brows.

"Happy? I'm up and cuss-free. What do you want?"

Maka frowned playfully.

"No need to be so rude," she teased. "I tried to let you sleep in but then your breakfast would get cold and I am aware you're all weird about just heating it up."

Soul grumbled about it 'not tasting the same' as he made his way from his bedroom, Maka at his heels, chuckling at him as he rubbed the back of his bed-mussed head.

He was in better spirits as he began digging into his breakfast. As he was finished he raised a brow as he watched while Maka stood from her chair and made her way over to the balcony. She'd been here a good two weeks and she spent more time out on the balcony than in the apartment itself.

"So, how you doing?" Soul asked as he wiped his hands with a napkin, leaning away from his now empty plate.

Maka stifled a sigh at the question. He'd ask once every three days, give or take. At first she acted clueless, pretending he was not referring to her attempted suicide and responding with a simple: "I'm good, you?" but that's just make him make her spend more time talking about it. She turned around stiffly, making her way back to the table to stand behind one of the chairs, knowing this was a conversation she couldn't postpone.

"I'm doing fine, actually." She said, making Soul tilt his head as if analysing her.

"Really? I'm concerned about your frequent visits to the balcon-"

"Why, think I'm going to jump off?" Maka asked, her patience wearing thin.

Soul narrowed his eyes dangerously at her.

"No, of course not. It's just like you're trying to avoid the addressing the circumstances."

"I'm getting much better at talking about things," Maka argued stubbornly.

"Oh yeah? You call this getting better?" he gestured between the two of them, his eyes looking doubtful. Maka met his gaze with a hard stare.

"I've been practicing." She told him, trying to make her voice hard and cold but instead it came out feeble.