Kind of got a little angsty here, hey? This is what listening to Luna Sea gets me writing. But man, I love that song 'Storm'. Anyways. Not much to say about this one. I've never been faced with death, so I depended on my inspiration for this fanfiction, and, walla! Review, please.
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Edward is gone, but through Winry's actions, he is all but lost in this entity.
Every footstep along set paths of dappled pebbles breaths a cry of his loss, and yet in a heartbeat, he sounds amongst the pitches to remind her of his presence.
In every site, every vision through explicit azure eyes, in every tear spilt and word rendered from her worn lips to the heavens, he lives on.
And she lives her life with this knowledge, frayed smiles still sharing secluded, euphoric moods upon a reverie while society goes on forgetting the prodigy, the shrimp, the alchemist, the hero.
She can not forget him. She cannot move on.
It hurts how much of her world he is.
It hurts more then she can bear living with.
He is not gone.
He's not.
He can't be.
A hand clenching at the dawns break as it ruptures into slivers of light, a wandering orb landing upon a slice of portraying reality triggering reminiscence, these constantly grace her with a long cast affliction.
And as far as she knows, forever may never come, and the end could have long passed, days straying while floundering in the asters of leaves and rebirths of the seasons, and she could lost be amongst time.
But she does know that he's securely tucked under the folds of her composure, and through her, he will live on.
And that, for now, is enough.
And as he remains her hope, she has faith.