"Mai--" Ed didn't finish his sentence as he stared at the three-inch stack of letters in Foley's hand.
They were Scientists; this was Nature. They were Modern; God is dead.
Sometimes, when he lay awake and undisturbed for many hours, he almost thought he had even succeeded.
"If you hadn't messed in the mud to get the cat," he pointed out, "your hands wouldn't be so cold. Give me your other."
He can still feel in his cheeks the faint scratch of beard against skin when his father kissed him there.
This is the smell of ozone from a lightning strike. This is fear.
There was a terrible vulnerability to Roy when his cover slipped, and it made Ed uncomfortable.
The taste of arsenic is golden, addictive, even it does pave the road to hell.
The sweet morning snaps like a fragile pane of glass and Al is sobbing, the sounds tearing up out of his chest and throat before he can stop them.
"You are the only one who has acknowledged me," she suddenly whispered , "since he's been gone."
You hide it well behind your bluster and your sulks, but the workings of your mind are at once cunningly devious and ruthlessly simple.
He reminds Alfons of himself, in a way, back after he'd been first diagnosed with his illness; when he used to get up and stare at his face in the washbasin mirror every day and think, I am too young for this.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
What he remembered of ice cream, more than the taste, was how messy it had always been.
The house rumbled gently, as a cat purrs, and Alphonse tied off the braid, pressing his hands to Edward's scalp one more time before dropping them to his side.
Alfons prays for the day when he will return to a far-off Edward, and somehow miraculously find the words, the actions, to call him back from his imaginary world.
Half the apple pie was still on a cracked plate on the windowsill, covered with a bowl so it didn't go stale before tomorrow, because it was all he had in the house.
The color red was a distraction. The color red was him. Him--Mustang's own constant distraction, the waving red banner amidst the dull color that painted his everyday life.
Nurses in white smocks bustle about a tiny nurses's station, and he is intercepted by one of the younger ones, a new girl he doesn't recognize.
She hasn't learned not to weep — only to weep without tears.
Riza looks straight ahead. "Personally, I found during my time in Ishbal that nothing stops a career faster than a bullet between the eyes."
Could be anything... could have anything... and there was a pride, a greed in the words as they had dripped from those tainted, twisted lips.
"He misses me," came the quiet whisper, a hope that maybe this madness would end, that maybe, maybe, he could be released, that he could go home.
As always, there was a spark of hope in the younger Elric's expression, and it dug its claws into him as it had every day for the past eight months.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
Heaven is this: a short, crisp October day, the clear sky a great bowl above them, the amber valley a chalice below.
Hope — he could almost reach out and touch that hope, hours away, maybe, just a few ticks of the clock and an array or two later and it could be real.
If Ed had his way, his allowance (and all of Roy's salary) would be spent entirely on the most expensive brand of dog food to have ever existed.
...it was something you had. And if it's something you had, it's something I want.
Who was waiting for him? He tried to remember, but his mind wasn't working quite right at the moment.
Edward doesn't come back the next night, or the next.
How do you find someone who barely existed in this world now that they're gone?
It was easy enough to start a fire, with the appropriate array and dry wood.
It made him feel useful, and needed, even if the truth was his help wasn't entirely necessary. It made him feel like someone would miss him when he was gone.
But he glanced behind himself for Winly, and it was a terrible, bittersweet thing.
"That would have killed you, you idiot! You wouldn't be destroyed, or erased, or whatever. You would be killed! I would have murdered you!"
"Fuck, I have a gang," Ed breathed in horror, about to take a seat.
Bravado. Make them regret they ever talked to you.
He didn't know exactly what he found so captivating, seeing Edward like this, but he couldn't stop looking.
In the winter months the ground was too hard to dig ditches, so instead they chipped rocks.
Who knew how long it would take to find Al and take down those who'd conspired to feign his death?
There is grass growing on the cinders, ivy covers the old stones.
Because he had said one year; and dammit, he meant it.
Roy was silent when Maes came back several minutes later. If he heard the sounds of retching from the bathroom, he didn't say.
Nothing made sense anymore.
"Ah, Alphonse-kun, I was wondering when you would wake up."
"You don't think doing grown up things makes you look older?" Ed said after a while.
"You should know better than to behave that way, Envy," said a voice against his ear, and he felt the warmth of breath as it feathered over the side of his face.