First story; hope you enjoy. Leave lots of reviews so I can get lots better, you know.
Disclaimer: I don't own any rights.
Knee Deep
"Do you like the Western river, Lieutenant?"
Mustang was knee deep in the river, cold water cascading past his legs, numbing his toes and thighs. Water seeped slowly upwards, soaking his body.
"I love the river at night, sir, when there's a full moon, at midnight. It's beautiful, sir."
He plunged both hands into the water, letting it slide through his fingertips. His gloves were long since destroyed. The blood still does not wash out.
"Oh really, Lieutenant? Tell me more."
His fists curl, and he hurls himself face first into the clear, cold torrent of water. He kneels on the slipping sand, and lets it wash over his whole body. He clamps his eyes shut.
"There's no need to mock me, sir."
He staggers to his feet, exploding from the water, spray flying, like a whitened corpse. He gasps for air, and scolds himself. One cannot drown oneself; it
is impossible. The full moon's light washes him in silvery opalescence. It is beautiful.
"I'm not mocking you, Lieutenant. I'm just…teasing you. Lighten up a little."
He moans, throat tight, as water cascades down his face, his whole body dripping, as the river rushes by, unaware. And when all the river water has washed away, there is still water dripping down his cheeks.
"Sorry, sir. I just thought I'd tell you about the river, since you asked."
He pulls the sodden military coat off his chest, fingers scrabbling as he cannot rip his clothes off fast enough. His skin stings in furious protest, but he ignores it. The jacket, the shirt, his boots and his pants, he flings them into the raging water. They are washed away. All he has left is a silver pocket watch in his right hand and shorts.
"I did ask, didn't I? Why don't we visit the river next time were in Western Headquarters, Lieutenant. We'll have a picnic and pick flowers on the shore."
His chest heaves as the water's icy fingers bruise his powerful thighs. He unclenches his hand, and the impression of a dragon is pressed into his palm from gripping his watch so hard. He clicks the stop, and it pops open. The little hands tick off the seconds left until midnight.
"Sir, I asked you to not mock me!"
He laughs a little, pushing a handful of sodden black hair out of his face with a shaking hand. He watches the watch, waits for it. His other hand pulls a silver lighter from the pocket of his shorts. He flips it open, one eye on the flame, the other on the watch.
There is a picnic basket on the bank, blanket laid out, a delicious spread for two. A bunch of purple cyclamens are in a vase. A bottle of corked wine is in a bucket of ice. Ten seconds till midnight.
"Lieutenant, look out! Behind you, he's behind you! Riza, behind you!"
"I wasn't mocking you, Riza," he whispers as the watch strikes twelve.
He drops the watch, snaps his fingers and lets go.
Hydrogen and oxygen particles separate, breaking apart, water being destroyed in a howling roar. The water turns to fire, and the river becomes the inferno.
He closes his eyes, and lets the flames swallow his skin. He sucks in a huge breath of charred air.
I'm so sorry, Riza.