"Ow!" Roy jerked his hand away from the snapping crayfish so violently that he elbowed Riza in the ribs. She yelped in surprise as she lost her footing, slipped off her rock, and fell into the river. The water was cold, an unpleasant contrast to the scorching summer day. Riza felt her skin break open where she landed on her palms and knees against the coarse stones; the deep, frigid water sloshed against her stomach, and her mouth filled with the taste of muddy river.
"Roy," she cried out in annoyance, "watch your elbows, you idiot!" Roy was already reaching for her arm to help her up, but she smacked his hand away irritably. "I don't need your help," she spat as she climbed out of the water, already wringing her dress in quick, irritated twists of the fabric. Her scraped palms protested the action but she didn't care.
Roy backed off nervously, dragging his fingers through his charcoal hair. "I'm really sorry, Riza! I didn't mean to, and now your dress is all—" He stopped abruptly, his face suddenly going scarlet.
Riza opened her mouth to ask what the matter was when he pointedly averted his gaze, his ears burning. She looked down at her dress and uttered a rather unladylike curse. The pale fabric, in its soaked state, was almost completely sheer. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat in the grass, humiliated tears beginning to prick her eyes. He saw. He saw and I can't even hide from him until we can get home.
Without turning to her, Roy asked nervously, "How are we going to get back?"
"I don't know. I guess we can go around the outside of town," she said, knowing full well that it was a bad suggestion. The hot flush in her chest burned away. It's just Roy, there's no reason to be so upset. It's just Roy. You've known him for years now. Calm down.
Roy scoffed. "That would take ages. Why don't you just wear my shirt?"
Now it was Riza's turn to scoff. "Do you really want to walk through town bare chested while I wear your shirt? We'd get even weirder looks than we already do, and plus I don't want anyone from school to see." She rubbed nervously at her sore knees. "I just don't want to draw any more attention to myself," she muttered.
Roy sighed, defeated, and sat down a few feet to her right, his eyes still canted away. "I guess we don't have a choice then. Let's just sit here in the sun until you're dry."
Riza sighed too, though it came out more like a growl. "I guess." He's not going to say anything? Of course he's not, she berated herself, it's Roy. He's a proper gentleman. Father wouldn't be teaching him if he weren't.
"I can tell you about how the nitrogen cycle works if you want," he was saying. "It'll help pass the time."
Riza rolled her eyes at the back of his head and shivered as a breeze swept through the clearing. "Honestly Roy, do you think of anything other than your alchemy training?"
"Of course I do," he protested, turning to her indignantly before remembering himself and snapping his head back towards the river. "I just really like science," he mumbled.
Riza laughed despite herself, the heat in her cheeks finally dissipating. "Okay Mr. Mustang. Tell me about the nitrogen cycle."
0000000
"Hey Riza! Let's get some ice cream." They were walking down the main road in town, just passing the market where Riza ordinarily bought flour and other necessities. Roy twirled his pocket watch through the air, having just checked the time. The chain swung taut and then, reaching the peak of its arc, crumpled as the heavy metal landed in his palm. He smiled sunnily at Riza, looking perfectly innocent, and she forgot for a moment that he was actually older than her by several years.
"We don't have time for that," she chided, though it was more to give him a hassle than out of any real objection. Ice cream did sound nice, and in spite of her desire to lock herself in her room and mourn her wounded dignity, Riza was tempted.
Roy smirked and held up his watch. "Don't give me that. We have plenty of time. There was leftover soup from yesterday, remember? No need to start a meal from scratch tonight. Let's get ice cream." When she looked unmoved, he added, "Consider it an apology for soaking you earlier." He had that mischievous glint in his obsidian eyes, the one that told Riza she wasn't about to win. Still, she wasn't going to give up so easily.
"Father wouldn't like it if we went and had dessert before dinner. I'm sure he'd scold us."
Roy tilted his head back and laughed, his teeth flashing. "Aw come on, live a little," he teased. "Life's more fun when you eat dessert first. And besides," he continued, leaning in conspiratorially, "we're not going to tell Master Hawkeye." He grinned again, unfazed by her obstinance. "Sometimes you're far too proper, you know that?" He reached out and ruffled Riza's hair, sending the blonde strands askew.
"Roy," she protested, ducking out of his reach and pawing at her rumpled hair. "I don't have the money to be buying sweets," she snapped. "We barely have enough for groceries anyways. You know that." Riza felt an uncomfortable clenching somewhere in her gut at the admission. But Roy just smiled.
"Don't worry, I'll pay for it. Aunt Chris sent me some extra money this month. She told me to use it for something special. So let's get ice cream, okay?"
She was out of excuses. With an exaggerated huff, Riza relented. "Fine," she said, "but then you have to help me weed the garden after dinner."
"Sounds like a deal to me," Roy exclaimed, grabbing Riza's wrist and all but dragging her towards the café on the corner.
Did he say...something special?
Her skin suddenly burned where Roy's fingers touched it.
000000
While Riza rummaged in the cabinets for a soup pot, Roy disappeared into the depths of the house. Upon finding a suitable pot, she poured out the leftover chicken soup and set the stove to a medium flame before filling the teakettle. With the soup heating, Riza went to wash some dishes left over from her earlier lunch; Roy had been so excited about going for a walk that she'd forgotten to clean up. She hoped quietly that her father had not visited the kitchen today, or she'd surely be scolded for the mess.
As she ran a plate under the water, her hand stung violently and she dropped the dish, hissing through her teeth. She turned her palm up and inspected the broken skin from her crash landing in the river. The heel of her hand was slightly bloody and bruised. She ran her finger over the injury lightly, testing its tenderness. Roy's voice from the doorway startled her.
"I brought some stuff for your scrapes," he called out. She turned to him as he placed antiseptic and adhesive bandages on the kitchen table, and he smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry for getting you hurt. Would you let me help you?"
Riza contemplated him for a moment, heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. "Thank you for bringing that down for me, but I think I can handle it on my own. Besides, you already bought me ice cream," she replied, avoiding his gaze by checking the soup. She stirred it slowly, knowing full well it didn't need stirring.
Suddenly he was leaning on the counter next to her, a crease in his forehead as he frowned. "Of course you can handle it on your own. But I'm the reason you got hurt, so you shouldn't be the one taking care of it. The ice cream was for getting you soaked; this is for getting you hurt. Equivalent exchange, right?"
Riza rolled her eyes and smacked him with the spoon. "You're such a nuisance! Can't you think of anything but alchemy?" But even as she said it, she started laughing, and Roy smiled because he knew he'd won.
And so Riza set the spoon aside and sat at the kitchen table, letting Roy patch up first her knees, and then her hands. She inhaled sharply as the antiseptic stung, and Roy murmured an apology each time. When he finished, he lifted her right hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the bandage.
What is this? Could he…? Riza's heart stumbled.
As suddenly as his lips were there, they were gone; his fingers left her wrist and he was standing up to check the soup and Riza couldn't quite process what had just transpired. Her face felt hot and her stomach even more so. She gaped at his back as he reached into the cabinet for bowls and mugs to serve the soup and tea.
She hadn't quite schooled her expression by the time he turned back around, and he caught sight of the blush that had crept across her cheeks. She dodged his gaze, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the smallest flash of a smile cross his features. He slid her bowl and mug across the table, retrieved his own food, and sat down. When Riza dared a glance at him, he was looking into his soup, a light dusting of color on his pale face.
They ate wordlessly, the scraping of spoons the only sound, until, haltingly, Roy spoke up. "Sorry about that. My, um…my sisters always used to do that when I got hurt. I didn't really think…" He trailed off, his face still tinged red.
Riza shifted in her chair. "It's alright, my mother used to do it too." She studied the grain of the table for a moment, a fuzzy memory of cool hands and warm brown eyes welling to the surface her mind.
When she looked back up, relief had flooded Roy's features, and he gave her a warm smile. "You should tell me about her someday," he said.
Riza returned his smile, a poignant cocktail of sadness and affection stirring her gut. "Maybe someday," she hedged. "But for now," she continued, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl with a clatter, "the garden needs weeding."
"Of course," he agreed, standing to gather the dishes. He gave them a quick wash and dry before turning back to her, wearing a grin that lit up his dark eyes. "Let's get to it."