I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Roy Mustang stared at his reflection. No. It can't be. The mirror must be wrong. A wrinkle? A wrinkle! There was a wrinkle on his face! His face!
"Calm yourself, Mustang," the pale man said to himself. "The ladies would still admire you. You're not too old. You're only 30. Besides, it's not like there's competition for you in the military."
------------------------------------------------
"Hey, Boss!" Havoc walked into the office, his arms stuffed with packs of chocolate and cards.
Roy Mustang sighed inwardly. So no one has noticed yet. Well of course not, he thought. They are too distracted by my eyes.
"Put them by my desk, Havoc. I'll see to them later."
"Actually, these aren't yours," Havoc said nervously. "They're for Fullmetal."
"Ful— Fullm— Fullmetal!?!" Roy spluttered.
"But these are yours!!" He stepped aside to reveal Falman. He was carrying even more gifts.
"Oh. Heh heh heh. I should've known," Roy smirked. "There's no way Fullmetal can beat me when it came to women. Just hand them over. All of them."
Havoc and Falman dumped everything on his desk.
He read a message addressed to Ed.
"Your automail is dull compared to the sparkle of your eyes—"
Roy made a slight gagging sound.
He reached for one of his own cards. There was a scuttle of footsteps and a slam. Roy looked up too see that he was the only one left in the office.
Shrugging, Mustang read the elegantly written note:
"Do accept this bag of chocolate in return for a favor I need. Please ask Edward Elric if he'll like to have dinner with me. Thank you."
Mustang read the others. They all had similar requests.
A cry of complete rage and dismay escaped and echoed all the way to Resembool.