Ed's eye twitched.
His lips parted.
He cocked his head to the side.
And stared.
And stared.
And stared.
And fucking stared until he thought his eyeballs might pop out of his head.
Something was different about the Colonel, he had realized as he stood before him. The man sat at his desk, tapping the end of his pen against the wooden desk, keeping no beat whatsoever.
What was it? Ed itched to find the answer, but he couldn't. He couldn't pinpoint what was so...off about Mustang.
Black bangs just barely fell over his dark blue eyes, shielding them from the too-bright office light. The military uniform was in place, impeccable and crisp, as always. So what the fuck was so fucking different?! Ed's mind buzzed with questions, answers, and physical features.
Hair, uniform, eyes, mouth, gloves, smirk, that infuriating "you're just a dog under my command, so do whatever I say, or I'll have your ass" attitude.
And then - a glimmer...no, a twinkle caught his eye. Gold. Ed's eyes flew to the source of the shine and his mind smacked itself.
"Glasses!" he exclaimed, startling the man behind the desk so much that he jumped minutely.
"I beg your pardon?" he looked distinctly ruffled at having been caught off-guard. He let his fingertips crawl over the mediocre report on his desk and raised an eyebrow. Gold, square spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose, twinkling in the fluorescent lights.
"I just noticed...you're wearing glasses," Ed replied, his feeling of triumph already ebbing away as the Colonel fixed him with a stare that seemed reserved for only deranged lunatics.
"...Yes, Full Metal. I am. What, may I ask, is the problem with that?" Mustang inquired, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.
Ed rolled his eyes.
"I didn't say there was anything wrong with you wearing glasses," he huffed, blowing golden bangs out of his eyes.
The two stared in silence for a moment.
"Am you done? Can I go?" Ed asked, hoping to end the awkward silence.
A heartbeat.
"Yes. You're dismissed," Roy waved a gloved hand in his direction. Ed nodded and stalked toward the door, ready to leave. He paused as his hand twisted around the doorknob.
"Colonel?"
"Hmm?" the man hummed in acknowledgment. He had already turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork resting innocently on the corner of his desk.
"You look..." good? "Those glasses..." he cleared his throat and smirked at his superior officer. "You look less...bastardly when you wear those glasses. I like 'em."
Colonel Mustang blinked and felt his heart (and overfed ego) flourish at the backhanded compliment, but before he could gather his wits, Full Metal was already out the door, a wisp of blond ponytail disappearing from the door. He smiled softly, allowed himself a small laugh, and shook his head, returning to his paperwork.
He would have to wear those glasses more often.