Not Just a River
[Envy x Winry]

The wonderful thing about their situation, as terrible as it was, was that it was incredibly (surprisingly) straight forward. She came to Central, with or without the Elrics there, sought him out, they'd have some fun, she'd leave and that was the end of that. He wasn't forcing her into it, either; she always came of her own free will. (Maybe that was the terrible part.) They didn't talk much, and when they did it was over stupid things. She never asked him about the things she did when she wasn't there (she didn't need to ask, she knew, but if she asked him he'd just smirk at her and recount it all in great detail, and she really did not need to hear that. Didn't need to think about it.) And he'd never ask her (much) about her life except to learn whether he was the only one she ever slept with. He had a tendency to live up to his name in that respect, but it really didn't bother her. At least he cared in some way.

Not that she really cared if he cared. That wasn't the point of their relationship, to be loving and caring and all of the things couples should ideally be. She wasn't even sure she could call them a couple, they just had sex sometimes. She never even stayed over at his place over night, she always left right after they were done. That was all it was. Sex. That was all it was ever going to be. And she'd known that from the very beginning. Hell, that's what she'd wanted, right? A way to ease her loneliness without ever having to make an emotional commitment.

Admittedly she could have picked someone better (someone human, someone who wasn't a murderer,) but in some ways she felt like she had made the right choice for now. At least with him she never had to worry about him ever wanting more from her. At least with him she never had to worry about him getting hurt or killed. At least with him if she ever made the dumb mistake of wanting more she could tell herself right off the bat that it wasn't going to happen and just deal with it.

He hasn't killed you, Winry. Not yet. What more could you ask of him?

Once she did ask him a stupid question. "Let's say it was actually possible," she had said, calmly, peering at him as he lounged on his couch. "Either by the Philosopher's Stone or some other power, if you could become completely human, would you?"

He'd laughed and shook his head. "Hell no," he'd said, lips curled upward in some twisted amusement.

"Why?"

"Because it's better for me not to be."

That could mean many things but she didn't press him further. He had his reasons, she knew, but she honestly wasn't sure she really did want to know. Assuming of course he'd actually tell her.

She spent a lot of time wondering how long this could go on. Certainly not forever. They were walking on thin glass, both of them, and sooner or later they'd have to just stop or the glass would shatter beneath them. Ed and Al could find out, or the other homunculi, or he could actually die. Or any number of other things. He could get the order to kill her, and as much as she wanted to believe he'd do something to spare her life she could never count on it.

She could never count on anything with him.

(But maybe that was half the fun.)

"Are you the kind of girl that's into those shitty romance novels?" he asked her one day out of the blue. She'd raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head. "A couple years back I had to get information from this guy. It was an on-going thing, not just a one-off deal, and so I took on the role of this cute girl. He liked to read a lot so we spent a lot of time in libraries and things and for whatever reason he kept giving me these romance novels, and I just got so fucking bored after awhile I actually read them. And there was this one, it was so ridiculous, about this guy who was immortal or something and he fell in love with this human girl. And it was supposed to be this big epic love story or something about how he was so in love with her and worshipped her and they were together and happy and then, look at that! Surprise surprise, she died at the end and it was supposed to be all sad and tragic like it wasn't obvious from page one that that was how it was going to end. And I was reading this book and just couldn't understand, do humans really think something like that is romantic?"

She stared back at him, blankly, completely unsure how to respond. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want to know, why the hell do you lot eat that shit up?"

"I don't know," she said, tilting her head to the side and thinking it over. "I mean, maybe because it's two people who… who should rightfully have never met and never have loved and even though they knew the end would be sad… they're much rather have had something of a happy life together than none at all. I mean, I suppose."

He scowled and looked away, shaking his head in disgust. "Stupid. Who the hell would set themselves up for something like that? If you know things are going to end badly, why bother with it? What's the point?"

"Who knows."

They had weird conversations like that from time to time. On the rare occasion they actually had one, of course. He was always so confused by things humans did to themselves and to each other. He never seemed confused by their feelings, though, which was something she'd noticed and found very interesting. He understood their emotions quite well, all things considered. In some ways she thought he even felt them (though she never said as much to him.) He seemed so bored, and so lonely all the time. He knew how to have fun and he felt jealousy and hatred and all other things human.

Maybe not love. Or maybe he just didn't let himself feel it. Who knew? After all, he was immortal. Right?

But he just never seemed to fully get them. Maybe that was why he didn't want to be human, she thought. How could ever be something he didn't understand?

But these thoughts were fleeting. She did her best not to dwell on them because to do so would lead to more questions and more questions would leave her wanting answers. As it was she wasn't out for answers. She wasn't going to get them even if she was.

For now the best thing she could do was take it as it was. (Her curiosity, his boredom, their loneliness. Something that was, inevitably, going to come to some kind of end soon.) She wouldn't (couldn't) ask him for anything more than what he gave her (and never once aloud say that maybe, just maybe, she did want just that: more.)