AN: well, i am finally publishing a story!!! i feel very proud of myself. well, this is my first ever fic, and it's FMA, but subtly. so enjoy!! and please REVEIW!!!
Disclaimer: me no own FMA
Pairing: Red, but freinshipy
Whiskey's Shadows
A boy creeps down the steps of a long narrow staircase, leading to a dark, screen door. He sets down a worn leather bag, and removes a letter from his pocket. He holds it to his heart for a moment, then sets it on a small table. He picks up the bag, and opens the door. As he walks out the door, he turns his head back for just one moment, and whispers the words, I'm sorry. Then shoves a hat on his head, covering golden hair, shining in the moonlight. He turns and walks out the door.
A raven haired boy is sitting by the window of his room, unable to sleep. He opens a newspaper, once again reading the words printed there. Words telling of yet another war, another death, another catastrophe, ripping an already torn country apart. Words written by people who are safe from all the pain, people who have no right to tell how it would feel. How it would feel to know that someone you care about has been pulled into something no one should ever have to experience. The newspaper drops to the floor as the boy buries his face in his arms, knowing that after this day, he may never see his best friend again.
If someone were to look out their window that night, they would see a boy, slightly shorter than average, wearing the navy blue uniform of the Amestris military, the stripes on his shoulder showing the rank of major. Deep blonde hair, long and braided, swinging back and forth as he walked, head turned towards the pavement. In the middle of the deserted street he stops, turning his face to the stars. Clear, whiskey eyes shimmer with unshed tears. He knows he may not return. But even with the ultimate risk, he knows he must do this. If only to protect the ones he loves. As he returned his gaze to the pavement, the brim of his hat shadows his face, shutting off the moment of vulnerability. But of you were to look close enough, you might see the single tear, shimmering in the dark, and splashing down onto the pavement. The boy walks on.
He is 16, and he is going to war.
A man steps out of a taxi. As the cab drives off, a wind stirs, blowing a hip-long braid out behind him. His face is hidden in shadows. He is home again, but while his home is no different, he is changed. As he begins to walk down the now populated street, you can see a relief to be home, but also a strange, unidentifiable sadness. He stops in the middle of the busy sidewalk, somehow detached from the rest of the world, going about their everyday business. If you were to look at the face hidden by long golden bangs, you would see the same whiskey eyes from years ago, but now they are filled with shadows. Shadows that seem to tell a tale of sadness, pain and misery. Of bombs, destruction, gunshots and cannons. Men and children, lying dead or wounded in the streets. These shadows tell a tale of death. And the once clear, innocent, whiskey eyes are now almost covered with darkness. He shakes his head, smiling sadly to himself. He knows he will never be that innocent again. As he resumes his quick pace, braid swinging behind him, you could be reminded of the day he left this place. But this time, no tears fall.
While the blonde man walks by, deep midnight eyes follow the flash of gold. A light breeze stirs raven hair, and pulls lightly on a black jacket. He watches until the blonde is out of sight. As the dark eyes close, a wry smile pulls at the corners of his lips. He knows that while this man and the boy he knew from years ago share the same face, they are different. The boy who had once been his best friend had been changed by the cruel world they live in. And there was no coming back. His hands fist around a crumpled, worn envelope, as he dips his head and turns away, tears escaping despite all he tries to keep them in. Because if his friend can't cry, he will do it for him.
REVEIW!!
-Kitty