Simple Wishes

Moonlight shone brighter than even the sun on that cold February night. The sky in which the silver orb lay was clear, allowing the billions of stars to twinkle undeterred in the heavens. Below, the earth made not even the slightest of noises, giving itself and those it held a chance to slumber peacefully. Their house was no different: Silent, motionless; showing no signs that it would now, or ever, disturb the peace that had befallen the frigid atmosphere. She'd been taking in the quiet that surrounded her for a while now, and had yet to discover why, exactly, she wasn't numb to the world outside her mind like the rest of Central's populace. Although, she knew for certain that she wasn't the only person who was awakened by the silence:

The space beside her was empty, and had been ever since she woke up.

"What could he be doing?" Riza questioned in her sleep-fogged brain. Turning to the bedside table, she saw the clock glowing with the green numbers that shaped the time of 12:07. At first, she'd assumed him up to make use of the bathroom, when a few more minutes had passed, the bathroom became their kitchen, more specifically the refrigerator, but she'd seen him eat before, and if it were truly a matter of the stomach, he would've been finished at least thirty minutes ago.

"Maybe he fell asleep in his sandwich," she guessed with a chuckle.

With a smile and a sigh, Riza lifted herself from beneath the covers, blinking at the moonbeams shining directly into her dilated pupils. In the glow, she caught faint glimpses of the world outside her window: Houses, wide and tall, created spills of darkness within the vast ocean of silver, the trees, with their quivering strands of moonlit foliage, swayed gently back and forth in the south-bound wind. Riza grabbed her long blue robe from the back of a chair in the corner on her way out; just as she finished slipping her first arm into the sleeve, she opened the door with a quiet click of the knob.

The living room showed no signs of occupation: The couch cushions were untouched, as was the small bookshelf he'd insisted on buying; sleeping on the couch was out, and it seemed he hadn't been reading late again either, at least not in this room. On a small card table, visible only by moonlight, she saw her bag in the same position it had been placed in. Not far from that was his trunk: At one time, it had carried the few of his belongings that he could jam into it, but since he now had an actual place of residence, it was mainly used to transport personal books and work-based documents.

But it wasn't those two effects that truly drew her eye:

Upon reaching the table, she passed one of two chairs that matched the desktop. Hanging over the back was a long red coat, worn thin with years of enduring heat, cold, and countless skirmishes. Her fingers traced the trademark design his braid usually hid: A black serpent winding its way around a cross; at the cross's tip was a three-pointed crown, flanked by simply-designed wings. The edges were frayed, the sides dotted with holes, and the serpent was beginning to peel, but still he'd never wanted to fix it, though he easily could've. From the crimson fabric, there came the scents of metal and detergent; no matter how hard either of them tried, the aroma of steel would never come out. But it was part of who he was, the constant feel and fragrance of metal, and she would be lying if she said she didn't love it. She gave the jacket a final loving smile, and then turned in the direction of what he'd dubbed 'The Study'.

As there was no light spilling from the entryway to the kitchen, Riza made no effort to check it; if he was still there, the light would be on, and even if he'd left, she'd hear the creak of his mismatched feet traversing the carpeted floors.

The Study could be found behind a door that rested parallel to the couch. One had to know it was there in the first place in order to find the entrance, which was why it had been decided the best place for him to do his reading-Riza knew how he got when absorbed in a book, and had no desire to be the one who broke that intense concentration. Of course, the space was shared between the two of them, he just had greater need, seeing as most of her research was done at a range instead of at a desk.

"Ah ha!" Riza nodded to herself. A near-unnoticeable ribbon of light, originating from a small reading lamp, shone through the gap between wood and fiber. After taking a few more steps toward the door, she chanced a greeting, "Edward?"

A pause; no response.

"Edward?" she tried again, fingers brushing the knob. When she asked for a response a third time, and again received none, she opened the door to the dimly-lit study.

The room was a mess, to say the least: Three tall bookshelves, counters filled from end to end, lined the far wall, while stacks of the same volumes could be seen to her left and right. In the center of the room was an extremely cluttered desk, holding papers, books, pens, stamps, the lamp whose light she'd seen in the living room, as well as…

…the slumbering body of her alchemist.

A warm smile eased its way into her features. He'd done this more times previously than she could count: In the middle of the night, he'd be struck by insomnia or some lust for knowledge, and would venture from their bed into The Study. Almost every time, she'd made her way from her place on the mattress to the space beside him, and had voluntarily awakened him with whatever method she deemed effective: A kiss on the cheek, a poke in the side, or, on a more playful night, the tips of her teeth on his earlobe.

Tonight, she decided to initiate the latter.

Grinning to herself, Riza leaned down until her lips were level with his ear. From that position, she could confirm his sleeping here had been purely accidental. His arms were sprawled across the desk, a pen still lightly clutched in his fingers, and the papers he'd been working on were cushioning his chin.

As she looked over his odd manner, her eyes inevitably found the documents that had so required his attention. Tilting her head, she abandoned thoughts of waking him and instead decided to see what had brought him to this cramped and cluttered room.

Squashed beneath his clashing forearms was…a card?

"What…?"

Details were lost to the inadequate lighting, but she could at least see the colors were various shades of red and white. When placed fully below the light bulb, the colors filled a series of hearts, each one residing within a large one that filled the entire square, while the smallest appeared no bigger than her pinky nail. And on the inside…

Happy Valentines Day
A single hand was the only thing that kept her from shouting.

Today was February 14: Valentines Day, and it had been for the past fifteen minutes.

A wave of guilt washed away all traces of the peace she'd once felt. She'd completely forgotten that was today! There'd been no evidence of the impending holiday at the office, he'd said nothing this morning, or at any other time during the day, and even when they went to bed he hadn't done anything special to hint at the festivity. But still, he had remembered…At the very last minute, yes, judging by the time he had been addressing the card, but at least his mind had known of the date.

"Sorry, Edward…" Riza whispered, stroking his bangs. "It's too late for me to get you anything."

Edward rolled his head on the desk, still deeply asleep. She could at least give allow him a few peaceful minutes of slumber, even if they were spent on hard wood; moving him now would only wake him up.

Riza looked at the card once more: The inside was filled with scribbles and half-attempted lines of affection.

"He was working that hard on a message…"

The Lieutenant's eyes fell away from the cardboard and returned to the sleeping man: His hair, freed from its band, fell over his shoulders and bare-back like a veil, with each breath, his chest rose and fell easily, just missing the table's pointed edge.

A few moments passed noiselessly, as Riza took-in the ink-splotched card, and the man whom caused it to appear as such. And the longer she stared, the wider she smiled.

"I'm sorry I can't give you a card, too, Edward," Riza breathed into his ear while she reached for the pen hanging uselessly between his left middle and ring fingers. "I'll find you something better tomorrow but…for now…"

The scratching of a pen, the snoring of a man, and the tentative breathing of a smiling woman.

Satisfied with her work, Riza set the pen back in his hand. "Sleep well, Edward. I'll leave the door open for you." And without another word, she shut-off the lamp and exited The Study.

Unseen in the darkness was a scrawl-covered card that gave wishes in separate generic type for a 'Happy Valentines Day'. Below the scribbles, to contrast the other writing, was another message: Written simply as a form of atonement for a moment of amnesia.

Happy Valentines Day

Edward. I love you.