A/N: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist! Sorry for this terribly late update to my oneshot collection. Here's one with the theme 'Think of Me.' I have been trying to find a way to write this prompt for too long! I just love this song, and finally I found something to do with it. Credit to 'Phantom of the Opera' Woot Woot.
Think of Me
"Can I have this dance, please?" He asks, opening his hand to her.
"Can you, sir?" Her lips form into a soft smile as he throws her an overconfident smirk. Her hand gently takes his. She loves the feeling of his ungloved hands, caressing hers. They dance for what seems like hours, never tired of the latter's company. His lips tilt close to her ear and she smiles, the red lipstick shining. He's finally reached his dream, as they are attending the Fuhrer's ball. His hair is slicked back, the mustache that was previously there, shaven away by his companion. Every moment he spends with her fills his life with joy. Through the good times and bad, she's always been there, always been with him. The string quartet plays their last note, and they part from their dance. He pulls her close to him once more and kisses her luscious lips.
He moves to the podium to give his welcoming address as the new Fuhrer of Amestris. He smiles at her, as she moves around the room slowly whispering into her device. She's nodding now, and he notices her eyes become more alert, scanning the crowd as he continues to speak of the future of the country
BANG
He's crying now, holding her body in his arms, the royal blue of his uniform becoming drenched with her blood. The tears continue to force themselves from his eyes, as they splatter of her face.
"Riza…Riza! Where's the medic?" He's screaming in the turmoil. People are running, leaving behind the memories of what was supposed to be a happy occasion. He sees Havoc run over first, Breda is shouting for the men to run faster.
She moves to speak, blood beginning to pool at her mouth. Her eyes are strong, why were they so strong? Her chest heaves, forcing out a labored breath.
"Roy…you're safe." He can see the smile in her eyes as her life is diminishing.
Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
He's trying to shush her now, to tell her of all their memories, of all the times he thinks of her. He's trying to tell her how much he loves her, how much he needs her, but he can't find the proper words. He can't say goodbye to her.
She squeezes his hand. "I'm glad…" she coughs, the blood from her bullet wound splattering on his skin. "I won't forget our last dance."
"Don't say it's our last! I love you…don't go." He pleads. He doesn't want her to ever say goodbye, heavens knows he can't. He's only human. He can't stop the clock, slowly ticking away, telling her heart to stop beating and her lungs to stop breathing. The medics arrive swiftly, removing her from his grasp. He can still feel a pulse, for all its worth. She's a fighter. She wouldn't leave him.
Remember me, once in a while
Please promise me, you'll try
He opens his eyes, and shuts them quickly, the light too bright for his orbs to handle. It happened again, the same dream. The thought of remembering her is sickening. It sits on his chest, constricting his breathing. How can you remember someone you never forgot? You can't forget something that never left. And yet; this dream reminds him of his mistakes.
He feels an arm move smoothly over his chest. Looking over he sees her, and she smiles. He returns her smile and gets up from the bed.
"You had that dream again, didn't you, Roy." She asks smoothly, moving her hand through her long blonde hair, as her feet pad across the wooden floors of his apartment.
"Call it a reoccurring dream…a reminder." She nods, understanding what he means and takes a sip from her tea.
If you ever had a moment
Spare a though for me
She was everywhere. He could smell her in the office, in his apartment. He tasted her on his lips. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he could even hear her laugh, softly filling the room with exuberance. He sighed and looked at the gorgeous woman sitting across him. She was wonderful, tolerant, understanding, and so helpful. He couldn't help but think he didn't deserve her; She deserves so much better. The woman, who sat slowly blowing her tea, deserved a man who would return her feelings, instead of one who imagined someone else every time he held her. He had more than a moment to think of her, he had his whole life. He could never forget her for a second in his life. She never left his thoughts.
From the moment he realized her body was cold, and simply a husk for the woman who had stolen his heart so many years ago, he thought about the concept of a soul. Where did the beautiful soul of his lover go after her host body became damaged and dead? She certainly couldn't have just disappeared, especially when she invaded his thoughts so frequently.
Wherever she was, he wondered if she ever thought of him.
