Beautiful.
Oh yeah.
She was beautiful.
- · -
When he saw her for the first time, he was 14 years old and she was a young girl whom he did not pay much attention to.
Cute is the word I would use to describe her at that time; stubborn and suspicious too. She spent her days as anyone at her age, cleaning and studying; She was quieter than the rest and always did the right thing. She liked to do things right and fast because otherwise - and in his words - "You were wasting time."
The first time he heard that phrase, it comes from a little story.
Roy was on the living room floor, a notebook in his chest and a half-eaten sandwich on the floor, he had fallen asleep and was just waking up. He had to finish cleaning the gutters for an hour and his beloved teacher had left him by homework a 5,000 word essay on the composition of fire, from the atomic sense to the metaphysical, and boy was that boring, he read half a chapter from the book of metaphysics and fell exhausted. Anyway he did not want to see the angry face of hi's teacher so he decided to do things as quickly as possible, now, Mustang is a proud man, and will not go into details about how badly that developed, but we must clarify that if half of the chickens fled from the corral -where Riza fed them- and he himself fell from the roof -breaking a gutter in its passage- on a small earthenware construction and this ended in them being punished trying to find chickens in the middle of the night and blindly, it's his fault and only his.
Roy usually wonders from time to time if she remembers those adventures.
He does.
But well, back to the story. When it was only time to find Beatrice -as it was called- a spoted hen that for some reason Riza loved, Roy decided that the right thing to do was to apologize for falling in her - literally - and ruin her night. Riza turned to look at his face, and he, no matter that he was taller, felt small. Her gaze was so intense, you could see the fire behind them. He does not remember exactly what she said, just remember, very clearly: the night, the cold breeze that moved some leaves, the cicadas -meaning summer- in the background. Remembers her reddish face because of the discomfort, her intense and mesmerizing eyes, remembers the fire inside them.
Remembers thinking that she was beautiful.
But not in the banal sense of Beauty, of aesthetics. No.
She was beautiful in the ethereal sense. Like winter, like the prairies.
He knew, years later, that from that first encounter, with the intense and passionate Riza -in the most innocent of the senses-, he knew that after looking at those eyes gleam, he had slowly and imperceptibly fallen to an intense winter. He is still happy about it.
- · -
In the present, he observes her reclining, eyes closed and pale complexion, in the coffin where she lies, he sees her for the last time.
Sees her beautiful.
Sees her ethereal.
I love Royai idk why i haven't written something for them, anyway, i hope you liked it!
This story is on ao3 and both in english and spanish, also english is not my first languaje so i'm sorry for any mistakes.