Wine: For the drunken phone-call/text //Night: For the two am text/call
Soul stared at the phone in his hand. He was practically radiating melancholy.
He couldn’t help it, he just really fucking loved her. His Meister. One of the few girls in the whole damn academy who didn’t see him that way.
And he had to love /her/.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved loving her, but he just wished she would return his incredibly fluffy, sappy feelings.
So here he was with the phone in his hand, considering texting her. He was to sober for this.
He quickly chugged the last of his beer, and left the empty bottle on the table of the black leather booth before going up to the bar to get a new one.
Once he had paid the outrageously expensive price for his new bottle of beer, he discovered turning around that some moron had takin his table from him and the idiot now had his tongue down some girls throat. Well there was no way he was getting that table back now.
So much for that. Soul sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. Before opening the backdoor and moving out to the alleyway outside where it was much, much quieter.
Going to the club with Blackstar was a bad idea. A very bad idea, he thought fuzzily. His head felt strange.
Out of boredom, he unlocked his phone, only to come face to face with the background he set for special occasions where there was a risk of being severely intoxicated. The background was black with plain white text that said DO NOT TEXT MAKA in large font.
Well, if he couldn’t text her, he could call her, right?
Soul grinned widely, his red eyes glinting as he took a long drink from the new bottle of beer he had ordered.
He hit speed dial number one.
The phone seemed to ring for a whole minute. It still wasn’t long enough time for Soul to reconsider his choice of calling his lovely Meister (who had not been invited to Bro Night by Blackstar with Soul and Kilik).
And when Maka finally picked up, her voice answering the phone with a groggy “Soul?” (Heck yes, caller ID or did she mesmerize his phone number, that nerd.) His grin got even bigger.
"Heyyyy," he drawled. "What’s uppp?"
"Um, are you ok?" Maka questioned and he could practically see her sitting there, in her bed wearing a thin black tanktop, one of the straps falling of her shoulder and her hair tangled in a messy halo. "You sound drunk."
"Answer my question first, Angel," he answered somewhat indignantly, raising an eyebrow as he did so.
Maka huffed. “I was sleeping but someone woke me up,” she answered putting particularly strong emphasis on was.
"Why ‘re you sleepin?" Soul slurred, taking another sip of his beer.
"… Because it’s like two in the morning? And Soul, you know I go to bed at eleven." Maka asked/stated, sounding very, very confused.
"It’s that late? Haha, oppsies!" Soul laughed stupidly, all the while internally berating himself. Oppsies? Who said fucking oppsies?!
He could hear her giggling now. God damn it, why was it so easy to picture her, sitting cross legged on bed one of her hands covering her mouth as she laughed? Her voice was light as she giggled, “You are totally drunk!”
"Am not!" He declared loudly, drawing a few odd looks from the the group of people smoking at the entrance of the alley, their smoke spiralling towards him as they turned.
Maka was still giggling, “So, what do you want? I swear, Soul if you want a ride home jus call a cab. We can pay for it when you get home.”
He loved it when she said we. Soul leaned back against the wall behind him, one hand holding the half empty beer bottle, and the other cradling his cellphone. “I just wanted to talk to ya,” he slurred out as suavely as he could.
When Maka’s giggles increased in volume, he wasn’t sure he had quite managed suave.
"Well, Cassanova," Maka said, pausing for a moment to yawn. "I kind of want to go to sleep again so I’m going to hang up now."
Soul sighed heavily. “Fine, have a good sleep, you nerd.” He paused, brightening before blurting out, “Love ya!”
With that, Soul hung up without waiting for her reply. Nailed it.