Four A.M.

There was just so little to do at four in the morning, unless you had something planned except for sleep. If you didn't, it was a fairly boring time of day—too early to get up but not early enough to allow one to fall instantly back to sleep. Four A.M. was funny that way, Ed supposed groggily, and he hated it now, suddenly, and with all the fierceness his foggy, half-asleep brain could muster.

Ed lay on his back, his body numb and heavy with the weariness to which only his mind seemed to have become inexplicably immune. The moon was still full in the sky hanging high above the small apartment, shedding its revealing light upon the ceiling fan, motionless for the season. Next to him, breathing steadily, Riza was still deeply asleep. He rolled his head the slightest bit to the left to glimpse her, lying on her stomach beneath the covers, one hand protruding from beneath them to rest at her mouth. He blinked slowly, thought about smiling, reconsidered due to fatigue, and then turned back to the block of silver that cut through the blackness on his ceiling.

For a few moments he just lay there, attempting to wade through his haze and listen for some reverberation of the noise that might have awakened him, or some twinge in his instincts that would alert him to a foreign presence. But all he heard was Riza's breathing, and all he sensed was her and the dog—well, he couldn't actually sense Hayate was in the room, but his presence was a given. Overall, the scene in which he'd fallen asleep had remained the same during his slumber. So then what…? Was his spirit so restless that it managed to wake him? Or was his brain just anxious to analyze and to learn and didn't feel like waiting for the rest of him to wake up.

His mind would do something like that to him.

"C'mon," he grumbled inwardly. "Patience may not be my strong suit, but you can wait a little longer, can't you?"

A deep breath, smelling of the bad taste in his mouth and freshly-washed fabric, entered his lungs as silently as he could will it to, and it made the bits of dust in the air dance when he released it.

"S'matter…?" he heard Riza murmur beside him.

Edward rolled his head back towards her again, but she hadn't moved; her eyes were still closed. For an instant, he thought he imagined it, but then he saw one of her eyes lift open and look into his—inquisitive; exhausted.

"You tell me," he answered just as quietly. "I don't know what woke me up."

"Nightmare?"

"Not that I can recall."

"And if there'd been a noise, Hayate would've reacted first, but he's still asleep."

Edward nodded, shrugging half-heartedly.

Her brow furrowed slightly and she was silent, then she asked, "Are you cold?"

"Huh?" Edward had to think about this for a moment, had to consider the minimal sensations he was aware of, and then came to the conclusion that he was perfectly comfortable. "Nope."

Riza seemed dissatisfied; wrinkles cut deeper into her forehead. Without a word, she regarded him.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Let's just try and go back to sleep." He managed a small smile and turned back to the ceiling.

Or at least, he attempted to. He was stopped mid-shift by a hand, having moved much quicker than exhaustion should have allowed, clasping onto his nose.

His eyes widened as they fell on her hand and then went to her face, where the same tired expression remained unchanged.

"Uh…Riza what are…?" he trailed off, confused.

"Your nose is freezing cold," she said matter-of-factly. "You couldn't feel it?"

Edward just stared at her, realizing all at once that no, he hadn't realized that and that her hand was so soft and warm, even with its firm grasp on his face, that he was beginning to feel sleepy once again.

"Wait…what?"

"You'd be surprised how body temperature can affect how you sleep," she said, letting go of his nose. "I suggest you lay on your stomach to keep warmth on your face or you'll be waking up again soon." Riza withdrew her hand, pulled the covers back up over her, and closed her eyes.

Dully flabbergasted, Edward just stared at her, but was unable to for long, as he felt his eyelids growing heavy even as he gazed. In those last few moments before he slid into unconsciousness, he flipped himself over and buried his face in the pillow, welcoming the warmth with a mixture of disbelief and pleasure as it became his vehicle back into slumber.