I will never be a morning person,
for the moon and I,
are much too in love.
-Christopher Poindexter
She was like the sun. Really, she was the sun itself. Or at least, if anything in the universe could represent her more perfectly, it would be the most etherial heavenly rays pouring over stars in the softest glowing light of dawn. She was hope. She was the promise of new beginnings. Just like the pink and yellow hues of morning washed across the sky, she was proof positive of the beautiful things to come. I wanted to bathe in the warmth of her golden rays more than anything, and knowing that I never would was killing me slowly and painfully. She was like the sun.
I held an even closer relationship to the moon. Wary and longing and lonely in the darkness. A haunting white glow among the shadows surrounding me, yet dissapearing more and more each day until completely gone. Only occasionally could I show my entire being at once. I was a symbol forever associated with darkness, and most often drew fear from others above any other emotion. Anyone brave enough to prolong their stance before me long enough to earn my trust would find themselves wrapped in my gravitational pull and suspended in orbit around me. Until I felt the need to violently repel them and dive beneath cloud cover once again.
I had always been compared by others to wolves rather than moons. For similar reasons to my distinctive resemblance to the latter, but for marked, animalistic differences as well. Not only for how I moved in darkness and kept myself hidden, but for family loyalty, for stalking my prey, for suffering a hard life and howling often. I was a ruthless opponent, but also a provider and a nurturer. I mated without emotion, I was unafraid to stake claim and protect it fiercely, and I was disciplined enough to cut off my own foot if it was the only means of survival. I was, admittedly, a deeply feeling creature terrified of surrendering to emotions for fear of what would happen. I was a wolf, guided in comfort by the moon.
And the sun would surely cripple me.
A/N: I've hit a creative rut lately in my efforts to write new material, wether it be from the FMA universe or the world which i've created. I've been writing a lot on the train but haven't finished anything I like enough to post. I'm so happily surprised to still be receiving positive reviews for Perfect Blood and it's companions; to know that so many people are on board to continue in this universe is humbling and far more than I ever expected. I write the kind of stories I want to read myself, so with that being said I've decided to delve further into Edward's mind during Perfect Blood. He's far too complicated and interesting to be left as a total enigma, and I'd love for my loyal readers to see what was happening in his mind while he was falling in love with Winry.