"But he's just a kid... he's too short to be a criminal..."
"Yeah. Him again. The Colonel doesn't know when to quit, does he?"
Ed finally conceded that the cats were indeed very useful.
Winry was ten when her grandmother commented that she already needed training bras.
"Huh? Whose fault? Ahahah.. aha..." Ed tried to avoid the topic.
Edward Elric was notoriously known for his intense dislike of milk.
It was easy enough to start a fire, with the appropriate array and dry wood.
"I remember the flavor too; it was strawberry. It's still his favorite."
He can still feel in his cheeks the faint scratch of beard against skin when his father kissed him there.
Al decided he didn't like that particular grin on his brother's face.
The Colonel's staff next door ignored the pleas for help and gunshots.
"Colonel, if I may ask... what is a cat, to be more precise, a kitten doing in the office?"
Of course, when she was their age she could hardly recite her multiplication tables, much less draw complex alchemical glyphs.
He read his father's old, dog-eared textbooks, fascinated by the mechanics of alchemy.
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.
He remembered finding himself asking why the Fullmetal Alchemist would be the one to patch his own clothes.
"My neighbors would start saying things behind my back if I took home a suit of armor."
The only problem was that Ed didn't know what the heck "getting some" was or what he was being congratulated for.
"I'm sorry! Look, I'll fix it. I didn't know it was going to turn out this way!"
Any girl would be driven insane if she was the youngest child and the only girl in a family of six children.
Envy had to admit, Edward Elric's body was convenient for maneuvering around the people in a crowd.
Artificial muscles and steel could not replace the level of sensitivity real muscle and skin had.
He lay back on the couch (in Roy Mustang's office, where else?) and declared , "I'm not wearing this."