All the alchemical skill in the world didn't matter, he was learning, when it came to something like this.
He underestimates the little things, like how long it will take him to put his socks on in the morning, and she comes up the stairs when breakfast is long since over to find him crouched over a torn stocking, blinking back furious tears...
Wasn't young love grand, perfect as crystal, flawless as the summer overtures?
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
The resemblance to the first set was so uncanny that had he not known better, Ling would have assumed she was a twin.
All he had to do was snap his fingers. Again. Again in this endless night of terror.
The kid had said she was into ... different things, but in all his years Greed could not recall ever having found eggs a helpful sex aide.
There were faces more beautiful, and figures more perfect--he saw them all the time. But none had whatever it was that made him ache for her.
It was as if there was an invisible box Edward carried with him, keeping a careful several inches between him and the rest of the world at all times.
When the lines didn't matter, when the lungs weren't working in labor of sweet industry worlds, then it was so easy to see where they might be all born of the same blood.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."
She laughs readily, but no one else, he's sure, has ever seen the double-takes with which she greets his successful deadpan strikes.
A hand was extended, and he finally, finally took it, even if he didn't use it to pull himself up.
Somehow, this volunteer assignment wasn't starting out exactly the way she'd hoped it would.
What the hell was he going to say when Ed and Winry asked him if he met any nice girls in Xing?
There was a lot to be said for experimentation, Ed thought later, when Al was curled up in his arms as Winry fussed in the bathroom.
So soft... so completely squeezable. It would take work to make this decadent man hard.
"Fuhrer my ass," Edward said. "He's still nothing but a perverted old man."
He's been after her since the day they met. He'd been a newly-made Major and, at the time, the youngest State Alchemist ever. She'd been a Colonel going on Brigadier General.
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
Instant formulas for your pairing of choice! Simply add prose and stir well!
He hates the military. Maybe he doesn't. Roy and straight-line thinking aren't on speaking terms anymore, though he likes to pretend.
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
Right. He saw their little game. They wanted to freak him out, break his mind into little pieces. He could resist.
Like a sudden flashback to younger years, both Hawkeye and Havoc realized that this was as good a time as any to experiment.
They kissed only once. She tasted like ashes and brine.
"You are the only one who has acknowledged me," she suddenly whispered , "since he's been gone."
Really, who said that a woman's sex life had to end at 60? An experienced woman had a lot to offer, and Pinako was quite, quite experienced.
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Her original name had been Mary, like the mother of Jesus, and Hohenheim had found that noteworthy; something to comment on, if only in passing.
A small smile crept along her face--this visage made for mischief--and her tell-tale purple eyes narrowed.
"Apparently their mother never cautioned them to stay away from strangers with cars."
“You just need to make it clear to him that he may have an opinion on the matter, but in the end, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the work. Roy and I had that discussion months ago, and he’s been very cooperative ever since.”
Edward was like on a dog on a too-short leash, so close to the bone but unable to taste it.
From saint to sinner, from mother to whoreâ€¦ She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
When she prayed the next day, she only whispered the bits about sin, because how could anything that felt that good be wrong?
She laughs to see the grand scholar on his stomach on the floor of the living room, reading his sons a fairy tale from a fat little book.
He would come to understand later that what she meant was, I’m stronger than you.
There was no need to go rushing off into anything now that he had his flesh and memories back and life was becoming a living experience.
She had heard all the lines before. Pinako was a female in a mostly male line of work, after all.
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
The sheer naughtiness of it all was unexpectedly exciting, and she found herself trembling even before the cold steel met her skin.
A pure and virtuous soul was nothing short of surprising.