It was Tuesday evening, the month of July, 1897. In a small town, south east of East City, it was the middle of summer and, despite that, the rain continued to fall. It flushed the humidity from the air and cooled the often sweltering town, causing the summer air to reach a temperature that could be stood.
About ten miles south of this town, where the rain continued to fall just as heavily, nestled in a forest of deciduous trees, was a roomy brick house of a simple architectural design, home to a lanky man with dirty blonde hair and his amber-eyed daughter. At this particular time, a young man had just approached their front door, soaking wet with suitcase in hand, he knocked once, twice, three times, and the door was finally answered.
Although, who had opened the door wasn't the individual the young man had expected. With large, considering eyes , a girl (who couldn't have been much younger) with wheat colored hair, porcelain skin and a vague expression stood in the doorway, surveying the current condition of the boy.
"Hello." Direct. "How can I help you?" With an unchanging expression, the angel spoke slowly.
"Y-Yes, is this the home of Berthold Hawkeye?" Embarrassed. He didn't mean to stutter.
"Yes, it is." She could tell how nervous he was. "Can I ask who you are?" The angel smiled. It wavered in her eyes.
"Roy Mustang." He held out his shivering hand, shivering from the cold rain no doubt.
"It's a pleasure. I'm Riza, Berthold Hawkeye's daughter." His hand was strong when she held it. His grin was large, there was a fire in his eyes."Come in, you'll get sick."
"Thank you."
She let him in.
Riza had cleaned the extra bedroom three days ago, three days ago when this Roy Mustang was supposed to arrive. Her father had mentioned taking on an apprentice, but she didn't expect him to be so close to her own age. In the darkness of the sitting room, his appearance was barely visible. A mop of dark hair, pale skin, broad shoulders, high cheeks bones, a strong jaw line, he wasn't bad looking.
Her heart skipped the moment she saw his drenched body in front of the door. Lying to herself seems to be the only thing I have going for her.
Roy had shed his wet jacket and continued to shiver even in the warm house.
"Father," Riza called to the kitchen. Their house wasn't big. ."Roy Mustang is here."
Berthold Hawkeye sauntered into the room, dragging his feet, producing the ugly noise of dry skin brushing against wood.
"You're late." Always so emotionless and cold, that was the alchemist's trademark. The watermark of the tortured soul.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, the train was delayed." Roy's apology sounded genuine.
Her father glared. Cold, squinting eyes framed by greasy, long hair. "Be in this room at eight tomorrow morning. We'll begin then." Berthold walked down the hall. A door slammed. He'd be in his room for the rest of the night. Studying, researching, whatever he did. Riza never spoke to her father unless it was "Yes, sir." or "No, sir." They would never get along.
He was an unusual man.
Moments of silence, un-awkward. The young girl and boy looked at each other. Assessing, judging, contemplating.
"You should change your clothes. You'll get sick." Riza finally said, an even tone. Her eyes as thoughtful as before. "You must be hungry, anyways." She smiled again, he returned it. "Your room is the second door on the left. You should change and I'll make you a plate."
Riza cooked dinner every night. Cook, clean, assist. It was her life.
Nothing was going for her. Her father would never teach her alchemy, it's not like she asked. Maybe this boy would be a new horizon, a new way out, a new friend.
"Thank you so much, Miss Hawkeye." His voice was strong, bold. It matched the ambitious look in his eyes. She could listen to it all day.
In the kitchen, she scooped some meat and vegetables and set it on the table with a glass of milk. When he joined her once again, in his dry clothes, she had began washing the dinner dishes.
"You didn't have to do this." He sat down. His tone said it all. He felt it in the air too. The possibility. The attraction.
"I know." Riza set the last dish on the counter and took the seat across from him. "But, I wanted to." Smiles were exchanged.
"Thank you again, Miss Hawkeye." Always the gentleman.
"Don't worry about it. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask me. My father's difficult to handle, let alone understand. He'll get to you before you get to him." Light hearted, her tone contrasted the meaning of her words.
Roy chuckled. It sent a chill up her spine.
"The same goes for you." Roy smiled again, but it stayed on his lips. "We've got to stick together right?"
These words would have more meaning than either of them could comprehend at this moment.
"What do you mean?"
"If your father is as difficult as you say, we can help each other deal with him." He took a bite. "That sounds fair, right?"
Equivalent exchange. The law of the alchemists.
"It does, I suppose." Riza returned his smile, it was glued to her face.
"I can handle him." His eyes gleamed. Strong. Devoted. Adventurous.
His personal motives didn't matter, she'd keep him around. She'd grow close to him. They'd be friends.
It was that fire in his eyes.
If he wasn't careful, he'd burn an entire city to ashes.
This isn't my typical writing style but I was experimenting! It's vague for a reason. Probably not the best idea for the first One Shot I'm posting but I hope you enjoyed it (-:
Basically, when Roy and Riza meet before Roy does his alchemy training with Berthold.