A Day In Your Shoes

By verveine

Romance / Drama

The One Where They Cook

Soul Eater Evans had never felt such an impacting rush of emotions before. Sure he had heard of the nasty feeling before, always used in negative context, but in all honesty, it was all foreign to him. He never experienced it firsthand, and now that he was, he had no idea how to cure it. Or how to even begin to deal with it.

Soul Eater Evans had a terrible, horrible case of boredom.

In all his life, he always had something that kept him occupied. He could relaxingly compose a few melodies, or play the piano and break night. Sometimes he would enjoy a movie in his home built surround-sound system, and other times Black Star would come over to play. But recently, everything started to get tedious and repetitive. Sure, he loved his piano and music to death, but hour after hour of playing the piano for thirteen consecutive years straight was bound to get exhausting eventually.

But what was the real reason of this sudden epiphany that he was leading a boring life? It was the fact that he had a taste of what fun was. The brief moments he had with pigtails- when they had switched bodies and she slept over his home- were actually widely refreshing. Communication with a girl was a new process to him, and shockingly he found himself enjoying the presence of an opposing gender.

The most surprising revelation he had, however, was that she was the only one of her 'kind' to actually make him feel that way. After hours of having nothing to do, Soul caved in and started to talk to one of his many fan girls. He stopped these actions quicker than lightening when the girl started to rip his hair out from affection.

And so he realized it was only her. It was only her that made him so intrigued on the female species. He was set on hanging out with her more, despite her disgustingly low popularity status, but there was a little problem. Actually, a huge problem.

She was completely ignoring him.

Right after they found the cure and switched back, the first thing she did was kick him for accusing her of seducing him. She walked alway, and the next day acted as if they were total strangers again. She made no contact with him whatsoever.

In fact, she avoided him in the hallways. He would stare at her from time to time during class (just to make sure she wasn't staring at him, of course) and she would not even spare him one tiny little glance. He tried to make an excuse using the flour baby to get closer to her, but she just tossed him the bag and told him to return it to her the next day.

He was getting so desperate to talk to her that he was seriously considering trying to force himself to sneeze on purpose.

But then he returned to his senses, and scolded himself for even thinking of doing such terribly uncool actions.

As the days got longer, and Soul was collapsing from his mundane lifestyle, he ultimately concluded that it wouldn't hurt too badly to hinder his coolness points by a bit. After all, his amount of coolness was over the roof, so chipping it off a few layers wouldn't be unbearable.

Instead of trying to pathetically sneeze purposely and have the inconvenience of switching bodies, Soul thought of another route to trap her into giving her attention to him- school.

Soul spoke to their new English teacher secretively after school when everyone had left. He made sure that no one was left in the building and that he was alone with the teacher.

"Yes, Soul?" Her golden eyes bore unto his scarlet colored ones.

"Uh...well." Soul hesitated, as dark hues of red blotched his pale face from embarrassment. His eyes flickered over random objects in the empty classroom they currently resided in. "I was wondering..."

"Yes?" She tied her blonde hair up in a ponytail. "Don't be shy, I won't ridicule you in any way."

He groaned, as he tried to spit the words out. The conversation had gone smoothly in the numerous times he pictured it in his mind, but now that he was actually doing it, he was a mess.

"Well, Ms. Mjolnir, I heard that...uh...the flour baby project is to enhance our socializing skills..." He managed to say the first part of his point out.

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well...I feel like there's not really a lot of interactions between the partners, which kind of really makes your plans ineffective," he continued. "So I thought that maybe you should, I don't know, assign our class to do something specific together so you know that the partners are actually working as a couple." He finally expressed his true intentions, feeling a rapid blush spread around his face. Even his ears were burning from the embarrassment.

"Wow, Soul! I didn't even think about that! That actually sounds like a wonderful idea!" The teacher exclaimed, either oblivious to his burning red face or ignoring it. "I would definitely think about it tonight, and tomorrow I'll assign something that will confirm the connections are building up, okay?"

"Sure," Soul tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, but instead came out embarrassingly meek.

As Soul slowly walked out the classroom, he released a deep breath and he grinned. Now that the hard part was over, he was going to thoroughly enjoy the entertainment that would be coming towards him in the passing days.


The new English teacher, Soul learned, was one who acted quickly and efficiently.

"Hello class," the blonde teacher started. "Yesterday, a student in this class pointed out that some partners may not be as active as others are."

Some students started to groan. Soul nervously looked off to the side, pretending he had nothing to do with it.

"And so, in order to ensure that this experience is as realistic as possible, we're going to have a party tomorrow!"

Soul raised his eyebrows. What the hell did having a party have anything to do with anything? Students looked just as shocked as he did, wondering if they misheard. Soul's eyes subtly drifted over to pigtails, who was ignoring everyone and instead immersed herself in a book. Typical pigtails.

"Now, before any of you guys get too excited about the party, there is a catch: every couple must bring in a homemade dish- be it an actual meal or just dessert- but it has to be made together!" She completed her assignment, throwing a wink in Soul's direction. He sunk in his chair, wanting to fall of the edge of the universe. Maybe dissipate into carbon dioxide, so he could at least help the environment. No one seemed to notice her wink though, as they were too busy gossiping about the assignment amongst themselves. Soul smoothly walked over to Maka, with his hands casually crammed in his jean pockets.

"So about that project..." He started, glancing over her. She didn't look up or respond, so he continued. "What do you want to make?"

"I'll just make something and bring it in," she replied. She didn't even bother to look up.

He glared at her in annoyance.

"No, we have to make it together," he reminded her. He forcibly removed the book from her hands. "The teacher said so."

"Give it back," she demanded, finally meeting his ruby eyes.

"Not until you decide what we're going to do about the food." He refused, lifting the book out of her reach.

"Give it...!" She hissed, standing up on tiptoes in hopes that she would be able to reach the book.

"Then make plans!" He negotiated, holding the book as high as he could.

"Ugh..." She gave up, angrily sitting back on her seat. "I'm not going back to your mansion thing, that elderly woman basically labeled me a whore," the blonde replied stubbornly.

"So that means I get to crash at your place?" His voice was coated with amusement. He tried hard to camouflage it, but he was thrilled at the idea of staying at pigtails' house.

She moaned at the thought of him being anywhere near the vicinity of her comfort zone, but she knew it was inevitable.

"I seriously don't get why I can't just make something and play it off that we made it together..." She complained. She scribbled her address on scrap paper and shoved it in Soul's hand. "Come by six, and don't be late or I won't open the door," she warned him, as she took her book back.


"You idiot, you put in way too much rice krispies!" Soul growled, snatching the cardboard box of cereal away from the blonde girl who turned into a cooking nightmare. He was glad that he decided to throw on something casual that evening, because in the span of twenty minutes, his clothes were stained with various condiments.

"It's fine!" She jeered, rapidly stirring the gruesome mess she made in the pot.

They had decided to cook something simple- a rice krispies snack. But Maka had made the whole process much more complicated than it should have been by convincing Soul that she was a great cook and she knew the "right way" of making rice krispies.

"Look at that crap, it looks disgusting!" He cried, pointing at the bubbling pot of mess. "I told you that we had to use the microwave, not the pot! Look how gross it looks now!"

"Shut up!" She snapped, dangerously waving the metal spoon around. "Like you could make it any better!"

"A blind man could make it better than you make it," he flatly stated. He grabbed the utensil that was used as a weapon away from her. "Throw this batch out, it's already hardened, burnt, and inedible."

"I can't," she refused. "I only bought one cereal box, we can't make it over. Just use these, they're not that bad!"

"Yeah, they're not that bad if you're planning to use them as murder weapons. They're as hard as rocks." He proved his point by banging a big piece on the counter.

"Then you make it!" She conceded, dramatically waving her hands upwards. "I think I have a cake mix somewhere, let's see how well you can cook." she challenged, going over to her wooden cupboard and taking out a chocolate cake mix.

"Cake and rice krispies are completely different deserts!" Soul protested. "Cakes are much harder to make than rice krispies, how is this a fair challenge at all?"

"Chickening out?" A sarcastic, humored expression possessed her face.

"Give this to me," he snapped. Soul took the cake mix off the counter and started to read the instructions. Maka hovered over him, trying to take a peek at the back of the box. She grinned when she saw that making a cake was much more complicated than she thought it would be. She acknowledged the fact that making a cake taste good was miles harder than simply making rice krispies, but his negativity got on her nerves. He had no right to complain about her cooking, especially when he was a crappy one himself.

Soul caught Maka looking intently at the back of the box with him, and he shooed her away.

"Go away, go read some algebra books," he ordered her. He pushed her out of the kitchen. "I'll tell you when I'm done."

"You don't read algebra. You solve it," she harshly corrected him. She left the small kitchen that was connected to her living room. Before she absorbed herself in equations she warned him, "You better make it mouthwateringly delicious, Soul Eater Evans or I'll kick you."

His reply was brief.

"Don't worry about it, pigtails."


It wasn't the annoying silver-haired teenager's signal that had attracted Maka to walk into the kitchen. It was the smell wafting through her entire apartment- a warm, chocolatey smell of perfection.

"Hiya." He greeted her, as she entered the kitchen. He gave her a crooked grin. "I was just about to call you, I'm done."

Her eyes darted from his conceited face to the beautiful brown cake on the kitchen counter. It was cooling off, but Maka could basically feel the delicious smell enveloping her. She took a deep breath.

She had thought up of numerous insults directed towards his cake while she was in her room, but looking at the cake made them all disappear. Maka's bottom lip jutted out.

"Finally," she blurted out. She tried her best to hide the nervous emotions that emit out of her body.

"There was enough mix to make two, you can eat one and we can bring the other one to class," he told her. He noticed her carefully hidden nervous emotions through her silence. He simpered. "Looks delicious, doesn't it?"

"It's just cake," she stated. She ignored his coy grin as she cut herself a piece and popped it into her mouth.

The chocolate dessert literally melted into her mouth. It was fluffy, light, and absolutely delicious; a little piece of heaven. The texture and flavor was perfect too- not too sweet, not too bitter. She couldn't hide her crestfallen face.

"You cheated," she concluded. The delicious flavor rapidly spread throughout her mouth.

"It's that good?" He tossed her a face of victory.

"It's just cake, all it takes it following the right directions. Anyone could make it without ease," she informed him. She got annoyed by the cocky grin that was plastered on his face.

"Yeah, I thought so too, until I saw your cooking. Then I thought, wow, even with following the directions accurately, people can still manage to mess up food so badly it looks like a blob of grossness." He grimaced when she kicked his knee. "But seriously, how do you live by yourself? What do you eat? And don't say your own cooking because if that was true, you would have died from food poisoning by now."

She hit him on the head with a wooden spoon, angered by the insult, but answered him anyways.

"I always buy food," she shrugged. She cut herself another slice of cake. "Or sometimes Kid comes over and makes me something."

"What?" Soul asked in disbelief, a feeling of jealousy rising up his throat.

"What, what?" She was oblivious to his disapproving face.

"Why would symmetry come make you anything? Coming into a girl's apartment with the excuse of cooking, don't you think that's a bit fishy? I didn't expect symmetry to be that sleazy, he should be taught a lesson on manners," he scorned her raven haired friend.

"You have issues," Maka determined. She continued to eat her cake.

"And you have no shame, why are you allowing a guy come over to your apartment? Don't you know what happens when a girl and a guy are alone in a room together?" He bluntly asked her.

"Why are you lecturing me like you're my dad?" She snarled. "And if you haven't noticed Mr. Genius, we are alone together right now too. Is something happening? No."

Soul grunted at her logical point, leaning towards the kitchen counter. He stayed quiet, which gave the thought that had been bugging him for the past week a chance to escape his lips.

"Anyways," he started, breaking the thin layer of silence that had fallen. "How come you've been ignoring me this past week?" He finally mustered the question out. His scarlet eyes darted to the chocolate cake in front of him.

She curiously glanced at him, tapping the counter with her fingers lightly.

"I don't know. Isn't that what you want?" She murmured despondently.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm uncool," she admitted. She shrug her shoulders. Her face did not look sad at all; just the same emotionless expression it usually had.

Soul's face merely crumpled into further confusion.

She continued. "I have the uncanny ability to blend well against a white wall, why would you want to associate yourself with me? You don't have to go out of your way to talk to me, I really don't care."

Soul's face was stunned for a minute, before a wide grin spread over his face.

"Wow, are you actually caring about me?"

"Don't get carried away," she quickly dismissed. "I'm just saying don't pity me, I'm content with my life the way it is right now. I don't need your sympathy or friendship, so you could drop the act."

"You don't get carried away," he told her. "I'm a selfish guy, why would I care about you in the least? I'm talking to you for my own benefits- I have fun when I'm with you."

A slight smile threatened to crack her ambivalent mask.

"Besides, you're my wifey, of course I'm obliged to talk to you."

The flaxen haired girl choked on the third piece of chocolate cake she was munching on. When the coughing didn't reside, he poured her a glass of milk. She chugged it down rapidly, giving him an intense glare.

"What?" She wiped her mouth away from a potential milk mustache. She ignored the light brain freeze she obtained from the cold drink.

"You heard me pigtails, you're my wifey. It makes sense- we slept together on the same bed, went to each other's houses, had a (flour) baby together, and now even cooked together!" He smiled broadly, not minding the disgusted face she had on. "So now I forbid you from allowing symmetry into your apartment, it's a right I have as your husband."

"Fuck off Soul Evans," the blonde answered. Her face twisted into disgust at his teasing. "I spare you one remotely caring statement, and you give me this shit."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something to upset my wifey?" He continued to tease her with a drawl to his words. She was really fun to torture.

"Leave!" She exploded. He stood there limp, as she tried to shove him out of the kitchen door. His impish grin broadened.

"Look, we're even having our first real fight. Aren't we so cute?"

"OUT!" She commanded, shoving him harder towards the door. He stood there with a stupid, lazy expression on his face, as she started to unlock the locks to the outer door. She hastily opened it, and pushed him out.

"Not even a goodbye kiss?" He pouted, showing his pearly jagged teeth.

Her face scrunched up into a ball of disgust, and promptly shut the door on his face. Her heart thumped loudly, not due to romantic inclinations- God, no- but because of burning embarrassment. She hated how easily he was able to get on her nerves; she was usually a calm, collected person. Well, in her opinion anyways.

Marry? Wife? She scoffed at his propositions. Desire for such things did not define her, and never will. In fact, she despised the idea of such intense, unnecessary commitment. Everything had a time limit, and when that time limit came, feelings would expire; and God, when said feelings expired, the remaining pieces of emotions left behind hurt. It burned like crazy, continuously jabbing the heart with spikes of betrayal, regret, and denial. It was like poison; it consumed your every being before ultimately crushing you down. She unfortunately found this out from personal experience.

She didn't mind having the pain known at such an early age though; it saved her from future heartbreaks. She had iced up her heart, and no one was going to dare creep in. She always had neutral feelings about this knowledge; being this way. Nothing was ever going to change that.

Yet, as she heard the soft, velvety peal of laughter escape from his lips down the hall through her closed apartment doors, she couldn't help but feel a strange unrest creep into her heart.

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