{Give me that girl with her hair in a mess,
sleepy little smile with her head on my chest,
that's the you that I like best, give me that girl.}
Roy Mustang, the great General of the Amestrian military, was absolutely exhausted. He threw his coat over a table near his door and dropped into a chair. He sighed and ran a finger through his slicked-back hair, causing the gel to lose its hold and his hair to fall into his face.
Suddenly, he could hear footsteps, slightly muffled by the white carpeting and the house shoes that he knew she would be in.
She entered the room. Mrs. Riza Hawkeye Mustang. His wife.
Her hair was down and slightly mussed, her eyes half-lidded, her stomach rounder than it normally would be, because it held his child.
"Hey." She murmured, walking over to him and sitting down in his lap; she curled up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and placed her head onto his chest.
"Hey." He replied, burying his nose into her golden hair.
"I tried to wait up for you. Sorry. Fell asleep in the kitchen." She mumbled.
He chuckled.
"No problem."
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"Missed you today." He said softly.
"You too… I wish I could still work, sometimes... " She said. Her head moved slightly, and he moved his face out of her hair. She met his eyes.
"But our little friend disagrees with my wishes…" She laughed slightly.
His hand went up to her swollen stomach.
"Yeah…"
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. She moved her head back into place. He did likewise.
"Love you…" She said.
"You too…" He replied.
Silence for a few more moments.
Then, he heard a slight snore. He chuckled to himself.
The shaking woke the blonde who had fallen asleep on his chest.
"Let's go to bed…" She murmured, her voice slurred with tiredness.
"'Kay." He replied.