[A/N: One shot, Jean HavocXOC. The OC isn't actually named...sorry if that bothers you XD Anywho, I was wondering, if Jean ended up married, what would life be like for the woman? Warnings: Angst, lots of angst]

I murmur his name. I'm caught in that world between consciousness and sleep, a world where there are no missions, no late nights at the office, no wondering if every touch would be our last...
I reach out for him and find empty sheets. Those who say Karma's a bitch obviously haven't met Reality. I sigh heavily and sit up, running a hand through my messy hair. Morning sun slants through the closed blinds and I watch the dust motes, illuminated by the rays. This apartment is too big, too empty without him.
"He" is 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc. He works for the Amestrian military for the famous (or infamous, if you ask me) Colonel Roy Mustang. Roy's one of those womanizing ladder climber types. Jean told me once that every girlfriend he'd had since he started working for Roy left him for the raven-haired sleezebag. Women are stupid.
My alarm clock goes off, the annoying beeping putting an end to my musings. I get out of bed, my bare feet pad softly against the cold wood floors and I head to the bathroom. It was the end of week one.
Roy was a talented alchemist, had some sort of unusual gift with flames...anyway, he was trusted with some of the most important confidential missions, meaning Jean would have to leave at a moment's notice for an unknown amount of time. The first time he left, I nearly worried myself sick but now I've been around the block a time or two. I've learned not to think about it, just to wait with an uneasy impatience until he comes home safely. They're the best at what they do, Roy's team. I know they'd be able to handle any situation that could be thrown at them. But Jean wasn't a coward. He wouldn't turn tail and flee just to save his own skin, and that terrified me.
I walk into the bathroom and put my hair into a messy ponytail. Really, anything I may have wanted to do with the unruly curls required too much effort and half the time it wouldn't even work. Jean said he loved that about my hair. Though, to be honest it was just a pain in the butt to me. I grip the counter and study myself in the mirror. I looked weary. I keep expecting him to walk up behind me, strong arms encircling my waist and to hear his voice murmur 'hello love...' in that soft way that always makes my heart beat out of my chest and sends a shiver up my spine...but there's nothing but empty space behind me, cold and uncaring.
I walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, my automatic coffee pot bubbles away on the counter. I can hear the people walking by on the street below and I wrap my arms around myself as a cold sense of loneliness overcomes me. I pour a cup of coffee and grab some toast. I usually make elaborate breakfasts for Jean. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and pancakes were his favorite. Quite frankly that was too much work for just me, and I wasn't that hungry anyway...
I go through my morning routine, putting on clean clothes, brushing my teeth, etc. Trying to banish thoughts of Jean, but everything reminded me of him. When I opened the blinds, the golden color of the sun reminded me of his hair. The blue of my shirt, reminds me of his eyes...Each time, I wrestle my thoughts into submission, only to have a color, a scent, a memory, remind me of him. I grab my keys and my satchel before leaving the apartment and heading to work. I worked at a local bookstore. It was owned by a man who had probably been alive to witness the creation of alchemy. I was his only employee and we both liked it that way. He always had interesting stories and he let me borrow books whenever I wanted. We had a perfect system.
"Good morning!" He greets me happily, every day without fail.
"Good morning, Mr. Wren. How are you?" He responds with his usual:
"Fine, has your boy come home yet?" I shake my head and he pats my shoulder before mercifully changing the subject. He had a knack with people, unlike me. I wasn't antisocial, I was just perfectly happy by myself. Jean was one of the few people whose company I craved. I sigh heavily and grab a book to pass the time. The day ticks by and I busy myself with customers or reading A History of Amestris. Five O' clock comes and I help Mr. Wren close shop, before walking out to head home. I turn the corner and see a familiar figure. He's walking towards me in civilian clothes, instead of his usual blue uniform, with a black duffel bag slung over one shoulder and his customary cigarette hanging out of his mouth. My heart soars and I call his name as I sprint towards him. A huge grin spreads across his face and he drops the duffel bag, stumbling back a bit and wrapping his arms around me as I launch myself into his chest.
"I missed you...so much..." I tighten my hold on him as I bury my face into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, breathing him in as my heart pounds.
"I missed you too..." He murmurs back as his arms tighten around me. We're wrapped up in our own little universe, complete, content and together again.