A/N: This was inspired by the awesome song Cold (But I'm Still Here) by Evans Blue, which is just the perfect angsty Roy/Riza song. So I don't own any of the song lyrics I borrowed. I also don't own FMA, and there is one little line I borrowed from one of Hmmingbird's fics. Check out her stuff, seriously, it rocks my socks. I've been agonizing over this story for way too long, and decided to finally post it. I hope nobody seems OOC. And I'm a total review whore, so please tell me what you think of it.
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o. fall into my eyes
It was far too obvious. He was far too obvious. He should hate the way his eyes seemed glued to her. Looking away just was far too unappealing, and therein lay the crux of the problem. But Roy told himself it was harmless, just looking, and the only lies he would ever believe were his own.
He finally stormed out of the office hours later, angry that something as simple as the way Hawkeye had been biting her lip had distracted him for nearly half the afternoon.
As the door slammed behind him, Falman and Fury both let out a sigh of relief and pretended like nothing was wrong. Breda shrugged and kept eating his sandwich. Havoc merely sat back and grinned through his cigarette smoke while cocking a knowing eyebrow at the Lieutenant.
Riza ignored them all and continued cleaning her pistol as if nothing had happened, but her gaze stayed fixed on the door for a long time afterwards.
He never seemed to notice she watched him as much as he watched her.
i. am i ever on your mind
The scotch swirling in the bottom of his glass was the same color as her eyes.
Fuck. Now he couldn't even drink without thinking about her.
It was funny in a way, Roy thought, but how exactly it was funny, he wasn't certain. What he did think was funny was how is easy it was for him to hide the maudlin drunk he really was. He had been playacting for so long it was easy to forget which face he was presenting to the world, and his good-for-nothing womanizing personality really had taken on a life of its own. He could flirt and brag and carry on and seem perfectly fine, but still be thinking of a million other things at the same time.
Like a lieutenant that was equal parts intoxicating and intimidating. These flickers of desire and curiosity had started to take up too large a part of his waking thoughts, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.
He flashed another perfectly insincere smile at a girl whose infuriating laugh made it impossible for him to hide his irritation. Sometimes he hated this persona he'd made up for himself.
But tonight the scotch seemed to be making him think more, instead of less, so he drained his glass and abruptly left the bar.
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Riza was curled up in her bed, enjoying a rare night with a good book, when she suddenly got the prickly feeling of being watched. She looked out the window she was leaning against to find the Colonel standing outside looking up at her.
He was dressed for a night out, and she could tell by the slight sway in his stance he'd been drinking again. He'd been doing that far too often since Hughes had been murdered, and always came into the office the next morning with bleary eyes, smelling of cigarettes, cheap booze, and cheaper women. She had to close her eyes for a moment to try and swallow down the surge of irrational anger that swelled up violently in her throat. When she opened them, he was still standing there.
She wondered if she should open the window and say something to him, like hello, or you should get home before the rain starts, or would you like to come inside? Her mouth snapped shut at that thought.
Instead, she just looked down at him, hesitating, and for a brief moment he stared up at her with a gaze intense enough to strip paint. But then his mask slid back into place, and whatever emotions were tumbling through his mind were carefully concealed once again. He offered her a faint smile, and the tiniest of salutes before turning and walking away.
"You are so blind," Riza muttered angrily, earning a quizzical look from Black Hayate, curled up at her feet.
She wasn't sure if she was referring to him, or herself.
ii. can you feel my trigger hand
Roy unlocked the door to his apartment and walked inside, trying not to wince. Any kind of movement hurt his wounds. They were still too fresh, but he couldn't stay in the hospital any longer. Riza stood just inside the doorway.
"You should try to get some rest, sir." Her voice was quieter than usual. Since he had yelled at her that first day in the hospital, she hadn't always wanted to look him in the eye.
She had been good at hiding it, of course. Most of the time it was business as usual, but during those rare quiet moments, he'd caught her staring at him. Her eyes would always flicker away to the floor then, and he knew she was thinking about how this all must be her fault. It was feeling altogether too much like he had kicked a puppy. He sighed.
"Look, Lieutenant, I'm sorry for…" She cut him off.
"No, you were right, sir. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." But she still wouldn't look at him. He stepped closer, then paused as he noticed faint greenish splotches on her neck, just barely peeking above the collar of her uniform.
Roy hooked a finger in Riza's collar, pulling it down to reveal large hand shaped bruises around her throat, faded to an ugly yellow-green.
"Why didn't you tell me about these?" he demanded, trying not to sound as possessive as he suddenly felt. She leaned away from his prying fingers, trying to ignore the way she just couldn't breathe when he touched her.
"It's not anything important, they're just bruises," she retorted. So typical of her to completely ignore the fact she was nearly strangled. "Now, please, you should rest." She turned to leave, but Roy didn't want her to go, not like this.
He lunged forward to grab her arm and couldn't help but groan from the pain that shot through him. Moving suddenly really was not a good idea.
"Riza, please, don't turn away from me," Roy pleaded through gritted teeth. Her brow was furrowed, but he wasn't sure if was out of concern for him or because he had thrown propriety to the wind and actually called her by her first name. Her hand had ended up on his side somehow, carefully pressed against the thick bandages.
She was so close-he could feel her warm breath against his chin, and it just seemed so natural to raise his other hand and carefully cup her cheek.
"Riza…" He breathed out her name like a prayer.
They stood frozen for a long moment. Roy let a finger delicately trace against her soft skin, as if she would break under his touch. He wanted so badly to lean in closer. But the almost imperceptible shake in his hand was enough to break the spell.
Riza inhaled sharply, shaking loose of his grasp and stepping back. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears like an alarm bell. She barely managed to choke out something about picking him up in the morning before bolting out the door.
Roy let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and stared at the floor, arms falling uselessly to his sides.
His hands wouldn't stop shaking.
iii. you broke me till the day that I die
Roy sat at his desk, furiously scribbling away at his paperwork. If he hadn't been in such a foul mood, he would've laughed at the irony. Only after his team had been scattered to the four winds was he really getting any work done.
The Colonel's irritated glance landed on the clock. Its ticking was the only other sound besides the scratching of his pen, and it was driving him mad. More and more it felt like the second hand was wrapped around his neck, slowly strangling him. His fingers were just itching to snap and incinerate the damn thing.
A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his reverie. His eyes widened in surprise at his visitor, and he stood up so fast his chair tipped over and clattered to the floor.
"Hawkeye!"
"Good afternoon, sir," she replied, her voice a little louder than normal. "Have you seen my gun cleaning kit? I must've misplaced it." His lips quirked into a small smile. He'd play along.
"Don't you have a spare, Lieutenant?" Her eye twitched at him.
"Of course I do, sir, but it's at home."
"Well, I'll help you look for it then." Riza shut the door behind her as Roy circled his desk to come stand next to her.
"Why are you here?" he whispered, as she opened drawers and rummaged around for her nonexistent kit. He frowned as his gaze fixed on the cut on her cheek, now just an angry pink line. "Did something else happen?"
She put a calming hand on his arm, and he didn't realize until then his hands were balled into fists.
"No, I'm fine," she whispered back. "I just…wanted to check on you, make sure you were alright…"
The look in her eyes right then was what did it.
Abruptly Roy seized Riza's chin between his thumb and forefinger, crashing his mouth down onto hers, barely even aiming for her lips. After a brief moment, her hands came up to curl around his neck, calloused fingers tickling through his hair. His hand found the curve of her waist and pulled her in tightly against him.
Their teeth hit, and Roy thought his lip was bleeding, but he didn't care because that was her tongue, and god, why had he waited so long to do this? Riza let out the tiniest of moans. He swallowed it greedily, his hand tightening convulsively around her, fingers splayed across her back.
The rational part of Riza's brain finally kicked in. She broke the kiss reluctantly and pushed away from Roy, raising a trembling hand to her lips.
Roy's mind was spinning as he fully realized what he'd done. Why was she always the one to step away? Why couldn't he control himself around her? Riza's face was flushed as she tried to catch her breath.
"Roy-sir, I- we can't…" He couldn't help but enjoy the way his name sounded rolling off her lips. Eyes wide, her mouth was still moving, trying to find the right words, but nothing would come out.
Instead she grabbed his jacket with both hands and pulled him down for another kiss, wet and violent and with none of the finesse Roy had imagined when he had thought about kissing her. But the longing and the desperation behind it conveyed everything more than either of them could have said. She pulled away again, and Roy had to shove his hands into his pockets to fight the instinct to pull her close to him.
"I have to go. They could be watching!" she whispered shakily. She looked up at him desperately, and there was something in her eyes he hated to see.
Fear. Even in Ishval, she'd never looked afraid like this. Before he could say anything, she spun around and nearly ran out the door.
Roy turned to lean against his desk, sucking in a deep breath. His hand tightened around a pen jar, and he hurled it at the wall, smiling grimly as it shattered with a satisfying crash.
Damn Bradley and his fucking eye, seeing what Roy had been not been willing to admit, not even really to himself.
He loved Riza Hawkeye. He had loved her as long as he could remember, and if anything happened to her now, it would break him more completely than a bullet to the head. And now this is what they were reduced to-working in the same building but not together. A polite nod of the head while passing each other in the hallway. Exchanging coded messages in the lunchroom. And the great Roy Mustang, who always had a plan, who was always in control, didn't know what to do.
He stood there for a long time, thinking about chess games and scarred alchemy arrays, as the afternoon shadows crept along his desk.
End.
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You manga readers see what I'm hinting at right? Now hit that review button, you know you want to.