Irreplaceable
Her father had always preferred him. Yes, him, Roy Mustang, the young man (who could hardly be called that – he really was nothing more than a child at the time) with the messy black hair who had shown up on at the doorstep of their desolate house asking for an apprenticeship with her father. The boy wasn't even of their own flesh and blood and yet her father had made it blatantly obvious that he had chosen him over her, Riza Hawkeye, his own daughter, whom he had raised and watched grow up since the day she entered the world. But the man who had spent years locked up in the dimly-lit study wasn't much of a father; hell, the girl had more familiar ties with the boy staying in the room down the hall than the man who had turned the man she had used to call papa into a complete stranger.
She never understood how someone who was right in front of her could be so far off; Riza only knew that the light in his eyes had left with her mother who was now buried six feet under in a dreary graveyard with nothing but a cold slab of stone to tell anyone she had ever been alive in the first place. There was no getting him back. All of Riza's endeavors at making him smile, making him happy, making him care for her like he used to, were nothing but vain efforts in the end. She was fighting against someone who wasn't even there…and she was losing.
The day Roy Mustang had entered into their lives was the day she had given up. She wasn't losing anymore – she had finally lost. The smile that her father had given Roy was nothing like the few fake grins he had shown her. It was that very smile that told Riza that she could never win against the boy with the messy black hair who stayed in the room down the hall, no matter what she did.
"Make him happy…please…because I can't…anymore…"
His pen instantly ceased its scratching on the parchment as he turned around toward the girl who had fallen asleep on the couch (after insisting that she stay up and keep him company while he did his studying). He frowned at seeing her furrowed brow and troubled expression. After all these years of holding a perpetually stoic face in front of her father, Riza had come to have nearly complete control of her emotions – only when she was asleep did the hard stare and thinly-pursed lips relax.
"Riza…" he whispered, dropping the formalities that her father had prescribed, leaving his pen on the table before walking over to where she lay. There she was, situated on her side, knees curled and arms tucked in against her chest, breathing deep and even. Before even realizing what he was doing, Roy found his hand resting on the smooth skin of her face, fingers brushing golden locks of hair from her eyes. He smiled; she seemed to ease under his gentle touch.
"You have no idea how much you mean to your father…" He had dropped to kneel by her side, his hand still lingering on her cheek. "Though it may not seem like it, he loves you a lot more than you think. I…I can make him smile, but you're the one who makes him happy. I could never take your place. Riza, you're irreplaceable to him…and to me."
His hand retreated back to his side as Riza began to stir. She shifted in her sleep, kneels pulling in and arms drawing closer, but the girl did not wake. The hand that was by his side had once again found itself to her cheek, his fingers holding back her bangs as he lay a soft kiss on her temple.
"Mr. Mustang…"
A wide smile spread across Roy's face at hearing her mumble his name in her sleep (maybe tomorrow he'd tease her about how she seemed to talk more when she was asleep than awake).
"…Thank you…"
A little something I wrote for fma_fic_contest over at livejournal a few weeks ago. I am still considering expanding on this...but for now, I'll leave it as is. Reviews are lovely and constructive criticism is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!