A/N: this was a request gotten on my Tumblr, Sadsuperman, to write a short story. the requirements were that Al complained to Martel about his love life and Edward over-heard. so, here you go Kelsey. enjoy!
"I don't see why you don't just say something, kid." says Martel, rolling her eyes. Beside her, Alphonse fidgits and, no doubt in an attempt to avoid the question, takes a sip out of his cup.
Juice, peach. Poured into some chipped up glass mug she'd dug out of one of the backrooms for him a few months ago. Because, unlike normal nineteen year-olds, Alphonse didn't drink alcohol. Even when he went to bars - which was where the younger boy had been spending most of his time these last few years.
Eventually, Alphonse has to put the drink down. He fidgits in his seat for a moment, then lets out an almost annoyed sounding sigh.
"I just...can't, Martel!" he says, lips tugging into a worried frown. "I can't!"
"Yeah, so you've said." says Martel dryly. She pops the cap off of her own drink, a beer, cold, and takes a swing. "Then you go right back to staring at his ass, like no one around can see you droolin'."
"M-martel!" squeeks Alphonse, one hand flying up to his mouth. It doesn't hide the trail of pink that's steadily making its way up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks. "I do not!"
The chimera snorts. "Of course you don't. Why don't you just say something, if you like him so damn much? And don't give me any of that 'oh-my-brother-would-have-a-fit' shit, because you could just tell him to fuck off."
The youngest Elric mutters something unintelligble, pointedly looking down at his cup of juice.
"Sorry, what was that?" Martel asks. "Couldn't hear you over the blush."
For a moment, Alphonse doesn't say anything. Just worries his bottom lip and looks anywhere but at Martel. Then he furrows his brows and looks up at her - an honest to God look of concern on his face.
"W-what if he doesn't like me too?" asks Alphonse. Then, like that was the only thing holding his thoughts back, everything else starts spilling out. "I mean, my brother tried to kill him and we weren't exactly best friends before! We almost got him killed! And -and, look at me! I'm just plain and normal and -"
The alchemist breaks off then, letting out a frustrated groan. Embarrassed, he drops his arms onto the counter and buries his face in them. Stupid, that's what he is.
"Damn, Alphonse." Martel snickers. She claps the tawny haired boy on the shoulder, and shakes her head. "You have no idea about anything, do you? Greed's got it bad for you!"
This brings out a muffled squeek as Alphonse turns his head, one golden brown eye peering out at her. "W-what?"
"Yep." Martel nods. Then she waits a moment, until the alchemist has sat back up, then she jerks a thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the front door. "And your brother's been standing there for the last three minutes."
As Alphonse jumps out of his seat, rushing at his still stunned older brother, Martel takes another swig of her beer and grins to herself.
It's about damn time.