Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing characters of FMA. I am just playing with someone else's toys.

Warnings: This is a death-fic. If you hate those, don't read.

A/N: So I was looking through my old fics and found this. I used maybe a little bit different style in writing than I usually do. I thought that though this is pretty sad, maybe you guys would like it. So, here you go a story full of angst and Royai.

Forever sweet, sad, loving

The shot came out of nowhere, so they will say later on. It was loud and fast in the middle of the crowd, so they will say.

He disagrees. Because she saw the shooter, who was trying to hit him. Because he could see the bullet crossing the air, slowly, so terribly slowly before hitting her just under her heart as she jumped before him. All he could do was catch her before she fell.

He feels her surprisingly light weight on his arms as he drops on his knees, feels how his hands get wet from the blood running through his fingers.

"No!"

His voice cuts the air; it's louder than the other screams of shock and the orders that tell the people to capture the shooter, to find a doctor, fast.

"Hawkeye…Look at me!"

He gently trails his slender fingers on her cheek, his fingers leaving red on her face, chasing the line of her porcelain face. Her eyes, beautiful dark amber colored, so innocent, like child's and in the same time so ancient, seen too much sorrow. Now they are shining as they try to keep the tears from coming. She slowly meets his dark gaze.

"Roy…you're safe…"

It startles him, she calling him by his first name. It makes the worry inside him increase as does her expression, already more peaceful. His heart is beating fast, like a little panicked bird inside his chest.

"Just wait, they'll get a doctor, they'll save you…don't you dare to die…"

"Hush…"

She lifts her own hand, smaller than his, but not as soft on his face, enjoying the warmth of his cheek. She can already feel the warmth backing away from her fingers. Her touch slowly going up to touch his midnight black hair, as messy as it has always been, bringing a hint of smile in her eyes. She shivers as he runs his hand down her other hand, leaving his touch lingering on her skin.

"I'm sorry…"

He travels his finger under her left eye, wiping away one rebellious tear.

"You'll be fine…"

His voice is full of panic and he looks around them, only to find out there still isn't a doctor. His wide eyes move to her face again and his heart hurts when he sees the sorrowful smile on her lips.

"There isn't time."

She says. He bites his lip, not wanting to accept the truth. Her shaky hand goes to touch her chest, immediately getting wet with blood.

"…"

"You know it."

He looks at the blood and feels his world start breaking down. He can't deny it anymore. His bodyguard is dying. His most loyal subordinate is dying. The woman he loves the most is dying.

"I am sorry I can't follow you anymore…"

Her voice is a whisper, only he can hear it. He shakes his head slightly.

"You already followed me to hell and back. I'm sorry, Riza."

The mention of her name makes her eyes shine. He realizes clearer than ever how beautiful they are.

"I'll wait for you, Sir…"

There is more than a hint of pain in his eyes as he holds her close to him. His voice is husky, filled with emotions.

"Don't go yet."

"Why not?"

"Please."

His tone tells it all, after years they have spent together there is no need for words anymore. All she needs is that heartbreaking tone, those sad, pleading eyes. She will stay, for awhile, just for him. 'Cause he's not ready yet. But what she doesn't get is that he never will be. How could one ever be ready to lose his heart?

Her heart is on fire, her breathing uneven and her amber eyes are shining. The blood from her chest is quickly drawing the life out of her.

She takes a deep breath before whispering the words that mean more than anything in the world.

"I love you."

"I know."

He will forever regret it. He could have said so, so many things, things like "I love you too, I always have." and he only says "I know". He'll realize it when he lies in his bed that night, that he has never said it out loud, never said just how much he loved her. They were always pretending, always hiding their feelings from even each other. The thought will bring tears into his eyes.

Her breathing is getting slower with every heartbeat, her precious time running through their fingers, like sand. Or maybe in their case, flying away like ashes to the wind.

As her beautiful eyes are slowly starting to close, the dark lashes throwing a shadow on her porcelain skin he decides that nothing matters now, nothing except her. The crowd disappears, they don't matter anymore. He caresses her cheek, which is sweaty. Then he captures her lips, tasting the salty tears and her unique cinnamon like taste. He feels her answering the kiss and then, a smile spreads on her pale face, making her look satisfied. He has to smile too, no matter that tears are starting to form in his eyes.

The last kiss, most bittersweet ever. It will forever stay in his memories. Smile slowly fading from one's face, turning to a look of grief. Smile staying on other one's face, forever sweet, forever sad and forever loving. Her heart no longer beats.

A/N: That was depressing. And short. I don't usually write death-fics. And I admit the plot isn't anywhere near perfect. I kind of like the ending though. I hope you'll leave a review and tell me what you thought. And please NO FLAMES.