A/N: I have a couple FMA oneshots kicking around that are too short to post as separate fics, so I thought I'd make a collection of sorts here. This first drabble was written for the prompt "harsh whisper." Works with Brotherhood or '03 verse—speaking of which, it's high time I rewatched both. The live action movie may have been relatively terrible but it put me in an FMA mood…
Anyway, enjoy!
Harsh Whisper
Alphonse Elric stood in the rain and watched his big brother sulk.
Ed stood to his right at the top of the Central Library staircase, arms sullenly crossed, staring moodily ahead at the wet paving stones, red hood pulled up over his head but sopping wet nonetheless, blond bangs plastered to his forehead.
His appearance reminded Alphonse of a half-drowned kitten (his attitude too, really), but he didn't dare speak the thought out loud. Brother had good reason— well, at least a reason— to be angry, besides their current miserable situation standing outside in the downpour.
It had all started just a few minutes earlier…
—
"Damn it," Ed hissed, shifting in his seat at one of the library's many reading tables.
Alphonse was at his side in an instant. "Brother," he half-heartedly scolded, both for the content of Ed's words and their volume. Central librarians were positively spooky in their hearing capabilities, and the last thing Al wanted to witness was another showdown between the iron-willed guardians of recorded knowledge and his spitfire older brother. "What is it?" he whispered, looking cautiously at Ed's current tableau of reading materials. What frustrating new revelation could've sparked that outburst?
"Got a paper cut," Ed muttered, sticking the offending finger in his mouth with a pout.
Well… there was that.
"Do you want me to get you a bandaid?" Alphonse queried. He wondered abstractly what the sensation of getting a paper cut would feel like— he couldn't remember at all.
It would be unpleasant, he reminded himself firmly, to quell the pang of regret and longing that involuntarily rose up inside him. Definitely not on the list of things I want to do when I get my body back.
Ed interrupted his thoughtswith a loud grunt. "Naw, it's fine. Sorry to bother you, Al."
"It's okay." Alphonse decided to take the opportunity to look over his brother's current research pursuits, before resuming his own efforts. He was just skimming a text about obscure biochemical transmutations when a flash of red caught his eye.
"Brother!" he cried, momentarily forgetting his own librarian-paranoia. "Look what you're doing!"
"Damn it," Edward Elric cursed again, and looked down to where his sliced finger was leaking a bright crimson trail across the glossy white page of the book he was reading. They'd both forgotten to whisper.
In the immediate silence that followed they heard it— footsteps.
Ed's eyes widened with a sense of impending doom. He attempted to slip the bloodstained volume under the table, but reacted a moment too late.
A librarian was already bearing down upon them, hair yanked back into a perfectly uniform bun, pince nez perched on the end of her birdlike nose. Upon catching a glimpse of the desecrated pages, the severity of her composure tightened into the simulacrum of absolute rage.
The brothers were summarily booted from the library, ears echoing with the librarian's irate reprimand and censure. And so they stood, hunched and dejected on the front steps while rain poured down and gave them a good soaking.
The truly impressive thing, Alphonse thought, was how that librarian had managed to carry out such a ferocious scolding without raising her voice above a harsh whisper.
It was an item he could add to his list of reasons-to-maintain-a-healthy-fear-of-librarians.
But for Ed, the incident had no doubt inspired a whole lot more resentment than respect. His brother sucked on his wounded finger sulkily, and suddenly Alphonse felt like giggling.
No, with all the trouble it seemed bound to cause, he most certainly did not want to experience a paper cut when he got his body back. Not at all.