"Would you like a blindfold, Mr. Tucker?"
It wasn't enough just to know what chemical components went into a human body, not if the structural knowledge was completely lacking.
They kissed only once. She tasted like ashes and brine.
But he's traveled like this before, and the hope that it won't end in failure a second time is, at this moment, enough.
They say that a wizard lives in the log cabin, on the other side of the dark woods and the silver river.
But you never thought of it as a handicap, did you, as something just the same as being blind or deaf.
This new life was staggering - more so, the feel of Alphonse's shoulder, warm and flesh beneath his cheek as the train lurched out of the station.
There was something almost funny about the surprise on Roy's face.
He thought, for a fleeting instant, that he ought to feel some kind of guilt—but he couldn’t muster any.
This, too, was a pain that Edward had inflicted only on himself, but neither Roy nor Al had dared to say so.
"Don't worry," Greed had whispered. "I'll take care of your little death."
But he glanced behind himself for Winly, and it was a terrible, bittersweet thing.
There were many things that Edward Elric didn't want the world to know, secrets to be protected at all cost.
But it was through the hands that you cooked, and with a false hand Ed found that the cooking didn't come as easily anymore, didn't taste quite like Mother's.
His vision was misted...almost comfortingly so. His hands were slathered in salve and bound with gentle gauze.
"You're late," Ed tells him flatly. "You should have been here one minute and forty four seconds ago."
Heaven is this: a short, crisp October day, the clear sky a great bowl above them, the amber valley a chalice below.
Al loved the way his brother's face turned inward, his golden eyes unfocusing and a little smile coming to his face...
Two boys, two faces, two fates, alive and dead at the same time, at different times, nothing in common, everything in common, one thing in common: him.
The lilacs would wither all too soon, but until then she intended to indulge herself, carrying the scent of home with her wherever she went.
...it was something you had. And if it's something you had, it's something I want.
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
Roy wondered how far Alphonse would go to prove his point.
He knew, as he had never known before, his own body; the strength and flexibility in every limb, every joint, every bone.
Now the eyes were dull, the gold frosted, and bitter lines caged his mouth.
Sometimes he feels like an actor, playing to an especially difficult audience.
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.
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.
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.
"I have to spend a year at Northern Command, and you can't come with me."
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.
Sick, both of them, sick and inhuman, the sigils of the devil's research pressed against each other's skin.
He grabbed the nearest inmate by the front of his shirt and hauled him up. "Where is he!?" he roared.
He hates the military. Maybe he doesn't. Roy and straight-line thinking aren't on speaking terms anymore, though he likes to pretend.
This is not how normal people behave, Ed's mind warned him.
It's a paradoxical situation; Alphonse is closer to Edward than he has ever been, yet somehow he feels as if they don't know each other at all.
It wasn't easy to imagine how he had been mistaken, because Al could swear that even from a distance, a hanged man looked very different from a tent post.
His friend is blushing, ashamed to be seen in such a condition - and this is not new, either, this is not new at all.
It's important that a little light always comes in, even if it's only enough to see shadows and outlines, and not words at all.
"Your arm," said Al, smiling apologetically. "It's kind of heavy."
Sometimes they race to see who can get to Winry's house faster.
If his past actions weren't reason enough to kill him, then this would be more than enough!
The sun was up. It was time to start the day, but Roy felt exhausted.
He didn't know exactly what he found so captivating, seeing Edward like this, but he couldn't stop looking.
It was so, so much easier just to go hungry than to try their hands at something she'd done so well.
She hasn't learned not to weep — only to weep without tears.
No one talked of Equivalent Exchange in England, but they had a saying that came close: There ain't no such thing as a free lunch.