A thin haze drifted over their heads, the room illuminated with the dull shine of lamps hung carefully from the ceiling. Across from the pair, a man and a woman exchanged glances and greeted theirs friends. Beside her sat the Colonel, close enough the send shivers down her spine but far enough away to make her whimper. True, the booth was small, but he was sitting close. Rather, very close. Occasionally, his leg would bump up against hers or her arm would brush against his. Each touch causing her flesh to tingle and his hair to stand on end.
Across from them, a handsome man looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye and smirked. In return, she would roll her eyes and take another sip from her glass or offer a mindless comment in the direction of the tense two across the table.
Soon, their glasses were emptied and the plates, once filled with splendid smelling delights, were laying bare on the table. Once again, his fingers brushed her wrist in an attempt to reach for the bill when a young lady rested it on face of the table. The opposing man shook his head. "No, I'll get the bill."
He looked like he was going to rebuke his friend's offer, but in his reach, he realized his foot had found it's way behind hers. His toe caught the back of her boot and he sat back in his seat, attempting to subtly remove his boot from her space.
"Well, I'll see you two at work tomorrow." The man saluted loosely and led his wife out of the restaurant, leaving the two alone in the booth. Each fidgeted nervously, each equally eager to leave the place, but neither happy with the thought of parting ways for the night.
"This is strange, wouldn't you say, Lieutenant?" He slid to the side, inching out of the booth hesitantly.
With a simple shake of her head, she followed him slowly. "I do not know what you mean, Sir."
A light smile flitted across his face as he watched her. The way her brow seemed to frown while her eyes shone with confusion. "You seemed to be rather quiet tonight."
"As did you, Sir." She blinked and stared at him, her eyes taking in every inch of his face. The way his black eyes seemed to stare straight through her, yet warm her heart. The way his charming, impish smile combined with his gentle features made him seem like the most attractive man on earth.
He turned to lead the way out of the building and she instantly wished she could savor a few more seconds, merely gazing at him in wonder. Being sure to lift the collar of his jacket, he opened the door and held it for the beautiful woman following him. She bowed her head in a seemingly simple expression of thanks and edged past his body.
In the frigid winter air, she was silently thankful for the thick fabric of their issued military uniforms. The only part of her that seemed to be affected by the chill was her hands. A meaningless yet ever necessary part of the body. It disgusted her, to think of the vile situations hands could seem like the work of the devil.
Coarse fingers running along a vulnerable body…
Yet she thanked the Gods for her hands, every time she needed to pull the trigger of her gun. It may be the hand that killed many innocent people, but it was also the hand that protected the ones she loved. And at that moment, she couldn't have cared less about the innocent people she had killed, which made her stomach churn.
The screech of a child, watching her mother and father shot and killed before her eyes…
The man slowly caught up to her, walking in sync with her footsteps. The clicking of boots equal on the cold sidewalk. For a long time, they were silent. The awkwardness they had experienced in the booth was gone, transformed into a brutal wall between them which he was desperate to destroy once again.
Why was it every time he tried to get close, she would repel him?
He knew very well they both wanted the same thing. Each other. But he knew very well the consequences that would bring about. Was that what she was aiming to protect him from? He may never find out.
Feeling the wall build with every passing second, he struggled to find the appropriate comment for the moment. Something sly, something she would have to think about? Something kind and sincere? Something that may help build the wall or break it down, depending on her reaction? A 50/50 chance…
Silently, he extended his arm. She watched him curiously, attempting with to read the expression on his face. She glanced from his arm to his face for several moments. Her teeth dug into her lip as she contemplated what she should do, when the only clue he was giving her was a deep, unreadable expression. Feeling her heart beat mercilessly against her ribcage, she gave in and hooked her arm around his.
At first tense, she relaxed when his expression melted into one of relief. "Sir?"
He looked down at her and smiled but gave no clues as to what he was thinking.
They continued walking, passing cozy storefronts and closed doors. They paused occasionally to take in the well-designed window displays. The street lamps overhead flickered on and she came to realize that sky above was turning a deep shade of gray. A light gust of wind seemed to be pushing her in his direction.
At one street corner, a cute park came into view. He smiled wryly and pulled her across the street to a path that wound through the snow-coated grass. Walking along, she let her arm slip away from his. He stopped and cleared the snow off a bench. Once he seemed satisfied, he sat down and motioned for her to do the same.
Curiously, she sat beside him. Her eyes scanned the area slowly before they fell on his face yet again. He watched her, his face reflected in her captivating eyes. Her mouth was in a firm line, the customary Hawkeye facial expression. He wished he could get her to show him a smile. Her smile was breathtaking. Perfect, gleaming white teeth… But there was nothing he could do. She didn't smile unless it was voluntary.
After a moment, he extended his hand. Yet again, her face was contorted as she struggled to take in what he was trying to do. This time, it look little more then a few seconds before she rested her hand hesitantly in his.
The warmth of his hand was nearly too much. He wound his fingers carefully between hers, feeling each small scar they carried.
This is one of those times you have to be thankful for hands.
She closed her hand around his and looked up at his face. His eyes were like raging torrents. Two emotions struggled with each other, each demanding dominance. One seemed to scream for her to lean against his chest and close her eyes peacefully. The other urged her to turn and run, and get as far away from him as possible.
He closed his eyes and moment and inhaled deeply. "You must trust me a Hell of a lot." He exhaled, opening his eyes and stroking her knuckles gently with his free hand.
"I do." She murmured.
Damn. He let his hand slid down to his lap and it clenched into a fist. "Why?" He asked. Sadly, she unwove her fingers and let her hand return to her side.
"Because I have to." She sighed and adjusted her collar. "If I couldn't trust you, I couldn't convince myself that protecting you is worth the effort."
Her hand seemed to buzz at her side as she watched his linger in the air for a second before resting on his lap with the other, seeming to wilt in defeat. "Even now, you trust me?"
"Why wouldn't I?" She peered at him, her curiosity was overwhelming.
"Why would you?" He asked. "After everything you've gone through under me. You know I've lied to you, gone behind your back. You know terrible things happen to good people because of me. You know I would not stop at anything to bring someone down with me, yet you put yourself in that position on purpose? After all I've done to you."
"You've never done anything to me, Sir." She whispered vehemently.
"Haven't I?"
~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~
"Dammit." Pain. Terrible pain raging through his abdomen.
Shots, seemingly hundreds of shot, slicing through the dull air. "Dammit Riza, hold on."
A loud screech. The clank of metal. The defiant voice of the youngest Elric brother. He knew it was over. He had lost Havoc and Hawkeye in one foul swoop..
No!
He limped forward, pain searing through his body. He had to keep moving. He wouldn't believe she was dead. She couldn't let herself die like that. Not without him in the position to avenge her.
Finally, a huge room. Al in the middle of the room, urging the sobbing Lieutenant to run for her life.
She had given up.
He shouts, her eyes light up. He destroys the Homunculus that made her cry. He collapses.
Her beauteous face hovering over his. Her tears staining her soft, delicate cheeks.
"Are you alright?" Is all he can think to ask. Yes, she is. He smiles and closes his eyes after requesting help for Havoc.
She is alive. He is alive.
~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~
"No, you haven't."
"Are you sure?"
~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~
A single man restrains her, cold steel to her neck.
Two men, holding him back. And insane man trying to talk to him. Raging, he refuses.
Idle threats turn real. A gasp. A thud. His Lieutenant, lying on the floor. Bleeding… Bleeding…
Dragging her body. More threats. Despairing looks from her dying eyes. Silence. Backup from an old friend. A fight. Returning to her side, pleading for her to open her eyes.
A hero, a small girl, reviving his Lieutenant. Holding her close, whispering apologies.
Another attack. Bradley. His hands, destroyed.
The Gate.
The voice of Full Metal. Darkness. Fear. Another battle. Trying to fight. Lossing.
Useless.
Battling ends. Rejoice. We won.
Light… Sights! Joy.
The Elric brothers, each returned to their bodies. His sight. Mrs. Curtis's body no longer plagued with her loss of organs.
Where is Riza?
A gasp, woozy footsteps. Arms wrapped around his chest. Crying. He didn't want to see her cry.
Holding her close. Joy. Peace. Freedom.
He kissed her forehead, not caring how many saw. Screw 'the rules.'
He was alive. She was alive.
~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~
"Positive." She murmurs.
He looks at her, his eyes acting like it was the first time they had truly seen her beauty. "That's good then."
Her gleaming eyes, showing what her slight nod could not. She stared at him, he stared at her. They became lost in each other's gazes.
"After all that we've been through…" A voice - was it his? Surely not… - whispers.
A hand - unknown to him - reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face.
"After all this, we still can't talk to each other." Maybe it was his voice. His hand.
She shook her head and leaned against the back of the bench. "Wrong, Sir. We are talking right now." A slight lean, pressure on his cheek. Her arms around his neck for a brief moment. Her lips pressed to his flesh for a dreamy second.
Then in was over, and she was already on her feet. "Excuse my invasion of personal space, Sir." She saluted and turned. Walking away seemed like it was no longer a thing to fear. For she knew tomorrow would come, and they would meet again in the office. Once again, they would be bound by the rules of the military. A strict few inches between bodies. A wall forced between the hearts of lovers.
A wall that would again be destroyed as the phone rang in her apartment later at night. An invitation for dinner. She smiles, accepts, and the cycle beings all over again.
Build the wall, tear it down.
Hm, actually kinda like this one.
Glad I could come up with an unintentional 'theme' while I was writing it. I had no idea where to go with it, but my fingers just kept writing 'wall' so I kept putting it in.
Review if you value my sanity.
