Title: His Eyes
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Roy x Edward
Summary: My father had always told me that people can act, but their eyes never lie.
Warnings: No real warnings.
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. I do not own Edward Elric's gold eyes. My eyes are about the same colour as Roy's.
His Eyes
From Roy's POV.
Some say his eyes are amber. I say they are gold. Pure, rich gold, so deliciously tempting that they can melt down anyone just at the sight of them. I, myself, am a victim to those beautiful orbs, which seems to draw you to them with some magical force, and once you start gazing into them, you are lost forever. They seem to have some sort of spell on them; they are simply enchanting.
My father had always told me that people can act, but their eyes never lie.
When I first saw him in that small rural village of Rizenbul, he was only eleven. He lay in his peaceful slumber, unaware of the horrifying future ahead that he would soon have to face and the dark path which he would have to walk on. He looked so sweet and innocent. There was no way back then that I could have known he had golden eyes. But somehow, as I looked upon him for the first time, I guessed that his eyes would be that colour of the most precious metal in the world which alchemists were forbidden to transmute.
I don't believe in love at first sight. I didn't fall in love with him immediately. It takes time for one to grow love for another. And love grows out of friendship, trust and respect. There is no such thing as love at first sight, only lust at first sight. That was what my mother used to teach me. It was only until about a year later that I began to discover new feelings for this blond boy.
It has been almost four years since the incident of the Nina/Alexander chimera. I remember that night well. He was terrified. He was nearly as upset as he had been the day his mother died. Those pools of molten gold showed pain and confusion. They were the eyes of a person who wanted to be an adult, but didn't know what it truly meant to be one. He wasn't strong enough to bear a real grown-up's burden yet. He didn't have a sense of responsibility, or a sense of duty.
How much I wanted to comfort him then. I wanted to tell him that I was there for him, and would always be. He glared at me as I stood there, looking on with a blank, almost cold, expression on my face. He couldn't see beneath that. He couldn't tell how I felt inside. He was angry at me for being so emotionless; for being a bastard, as he liked to call me. The three words that I longed to say tugged at my lips and nearly, very nearly, spilled out. But I glimpsed into his eyes once more, and I knew I had to wait. He walked away, and I closed my own obsidian eyes, heaving a sigh of regret. When I opened my eyes, he had gone out of my sight, but his shadow seemed to be lingering around still, haunting me.
I especially couldn't forget those eyes. They appear even in my dreams.
Now, at sixteen, his eyes are different. Other people may not be able to tell the difference. To any outsider, they would seem identical. Maybe they are just slightly duller, after having seen so much of this cruel world. But that would be the only variation for them. I look closer, deeper than the average person. These eyes are those of a young boy who doesn't want to be an adult, but is forced to be one, and has gradually learned to accept the responsibility and duty of being one. I have underestimated him. I thought it would take him longer to develop into a proper grown-up. I have waited less time than I have prepared myself to wait for.
If I had told him back then, he would have called me a bastard, a pervert, a pedophile, and everything else his foul mouth could think of. When he was still a child, he would not have been able to comprehend love. He would have thought it disgusting that another man should love him. But now, when I say those three words, he listens to me, and he understands. It is worth the wait. He smiles at me. It is a pretty sight to see him smile genuinely.
But the most attractive features are his eyes. Through those large, gold pupils, I see trust, respect, happiness, and love.
I press my lips onto his, and those lovely eyes flutter close to enjoy the kiss fully.
The End
A/N: I had wanted to write this ages ago, but somehow I just couldn't get it down. I enjoyed writing this immensely, but it seems just a bit choppy, I guess. I hope you enjoyed reading it just as I had loved writing it. This is my 50th FMA fic on this site. Please read & review!