AN: written pre-movie, hence, sort of AUish. Vaguely.
"He's such an idiot!" Winry sobbed, balling her hands into fists and pressing her face into Riza's shoulder, heedless of the tearstains on the Lieutenant's shirt. "Two years -- he goes missing for two years, and then...then he just leaps back into the military, and his brother goes with him this time, and...and it sucks and he never thinks about how they both wreck me into pieces, they're like the little brothers I never had, and they're so goddamn careless with themselves! He acts like they're expendable and it doesn't matter! It does matter!"
Riza didn't say anything, just stroked Winry's long golden hair and let her cry.
Winry had visited Central, expecting to find Edward and Alphonse waiting for her. Instead, she had found military panic -- the two alchemists three days late from the return of the mission they were on, and three days without any contact. Winry had kept a brave face on for as long as she could, but later in the evening, when Riza had suggested she retire with her to her dormitory, she had crumbled. Riza had made her as comfortable as possible, brewing her a cup of milky coffee, and giving her a gentle look, which hopefully communicated to the younger woman what Riza couldn't say with words. It had, and Winry had started to cry.
It was quite a shock to the Lieutenant to find herself in this situation -- she wasn't very good with indulging in the more delicate emotions of people, let alone the emotions of a eighteen-year-old girl. Yet she was holding Winry Rockbell as she wept, and comforting her as best she could. She could understand, after all.
"That person," Riza said quietly, when Winry's sobs had lessened, "Is always going to get himself into trouble, and will always make you feel like you're walking on a razorblade. Even when you distance yourself from them, for your own sanity, it never leaves you. You worry for them. All the time."
Winry knew who Riza meant. Sniffling, she said, "Ed's not my boyfriend, Riza. Nor's Al."
"That's a good thing," Riza answered, her voice betraying no emotion.
"I'm...I'm sorry." Winry pulled back from Riza's shoulder, wiping her eyes with her fingers. "I don't...I mean, if I sounded callous..."
Riza shook her head, her smile sad. "You didn't."
The younger woman sighed, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning back into the sofa they shared.
"Ne, Riza?"
"Hm?"
"...does it get any easier?"
"Winry." Riza smiled again, but this time, it was affectionate and gentle. She touched Winry's face, and Winry looked up at Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.
It baffled Winry as to why Roy Mustang missed the gem right in front of his eyes. Not only was Riza beautiful -- especially as she was now, gold locks unbound and lithe limbs clad in a pair of long pants and an old shirt -- she had a depth of understanding belied by her sharp exterior. There was a gentleness to her that Winry hadn't seen for a long time. When she had first met Riza, there had been a distance between them -- as there was between Riza and everyone, she supposed. It was now being bridged rapidly, and Winry was surprised to find how happy that thought made her.
Winry leaned across the sofa and pressed her lips to Riza's cheek softly. The Lieutenant blinked, a pretty rose-tinted flush rising to her cheeks, but smiled at the younger woman.
"You know," Riza said softly, gently guiding Winry's head to her shoulder again, and lacing their fingers together, "I think it does get easier."
"Mm." Winry smiled, snuggling closer. "That's good."