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Soul Dwelling: A Soul Eater Fan Site
Send the Death the Kid ship posts to dtkappreciation, not this site.
Sorry! You can ask Maq and me here.
A: I love it
B: It’s really cute
C: Not a bad ship
D: I’m neutral on it
E: I don’t really like it
N/A: I don’t know the ship well enough
Do the thing, send us ships with Kid and we’ll rate them!
-Dwells and Maq.
Something I wrote, a bit of SoMa to this grey weekend. Short oneshot.
She didn’t know why she felt that way. Gazing at her pale reflection in the looking glass, her hands travelled south over the fabric of her shirt, stretching it down in a failed attempt to smooth out some wrinkles. The hole in her heart grew bigger with time, last week she felt slightly uncomfortable with the routine, but now, after a week of monochromatic images and repeated actions, she was completely sure that the main question in her mind was bigger than ever: for what? She woke up, went to work, did what she was sopposed to do, all… for what? Was she even sure about what she wanted to do? Was this her future? She hoped not, as she grabbed a heavy box full of photographs and memories and put it on top of her wardrobe.
What a little tempting word. She needed some change, she needed air, and soon!
The little bell of the coffee shop rang happily announcing her entrance. The manager, a tall and severe man, smiled warmly to the skinny girl, offering her a cup of coffee. He always did that, but for no apparent reason, this time Maka felt a strange warm feeling in the pit of her stomach when he did so. A shy smile and a small sigh were her answer, hands rubbing her temples. He gave her a knowing look, but she just ignored it. The man didn’t want to push things further, if she wanted to talk he’ll be there, but for now he’ll leave the girl to her own thoughts.
She sipped at her coffee, perfect, as always. She was an extremely responsible young lady, so she always arrived to work half hour earlier in order to have everything under control when costumers start to arrive. Her ashy blond locks fell both sides of her face, covering her eyes from any curious soul. Holy Death, why was she feeling that way? She loved her career at Death City’s University, being a lawyer was everything she wanted in life, just like her mother, the woman who abandoned her when she was a little girl. The memory of her mother grew strong in her mind, her stern nature and adventurous spirit, she felt kind of jealous. She wanted to have the guts to leave her life here and travel around the world, just like the older woman did so many years ago. But she couldn’t, she wasn’t like her mom. She couldn’t just simply abandon her philandering father and career just to pursue a stupid caprice, her feet were attatched to the ground so firmly it made her shiver.
Her boss’ hand on her shoulder made her come back from her trance. Costumers were waiting to get their morning beberages and start their day. She closed her eyes for a second and looked for the necessary strength to begin her day with a smile. The morning passed fast enough for her not to think, her hands preparing and delivering all types of coffee from one side to the other.
Her little hidden heart made a weak jump inside her rib cage when, in the middle of her shift, this misterious sexy guy appeared. He started to come over a few weeks ago, and she just couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His unusual white hair swayed when he walked and his thrilling red eyes were so piercing and intimidating that she couldn’t look at him as she did with everyone else.
He walked around in search for something to eat and stepped in front of her, just like everyday, ordered the same coffee he always asked for. His deep husky voice sent shivers down her fragile spine, but today, as sensitive as she was, couldn’t help to smile a bit goofily at his words. The blush in her cheeks was just adorable. He gave her a provocative grin and handed her the money. Once he turned around to leave, she noticed that in between the bills there was a tiny piece of paper, in a messy handwrite style she could difficultly figure out what was written.
Maybe life was giving her a little pleasant change, after all.
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