One of my earliest memories of my childhood is of my favorite stuffed animal, a ratty lion with dirt in his mane. His name was Leo and I carried him everywhere with me. Even when I went swimming in the pond out back, I dragged him into the water, much to my mother's dismay. Then one day she had enough and threw out old Leo. I was horrified, but within a week he was replaced with an exact replica, except cleaner. He still had the silver tag on his left ear and his eyes were just as bright as ever. Soon I forgot about the previous Leo, and I came to believe they were one in the same.
I glance up from my work, wiping my hands on a cloth. My eyes, like usual, fall on Edward who is seated cross-legged in front of some parts, a book open in his lap. I wonder if I'm like the second Leo to him, the replacement Alphonse. Even though he's facing away from me, I can see that his hand has settled at his mouth again. He does this a lot lately when he's deep in thought. I think I'm one of the few people on this planet that knows that his right arm isn't real. It's an ingenious design really, but he doesn't want anyone to know. He says it's because he wants to go unnoticed during his time here…But how could anyone not notice him?
I watch him as he sits there motionlessly, hoping none of our colleagues notice my staring. His beautiful golden hair flows down his back, weighing down that flimsy tie that holds it in a ponytail. Repeatedly throughout the day he has to retie it because if it getting weighed down or because of a strong wind. My mind wanders to the few times when it's fallen out during the night, and in the morning when he sits up in his bed it waterfalls down his body, framing his groggy face as he tries to block the light from his eyes.
His left leg is a prosthetic too, something impossible to hide from me for very long once we moved in together. Even though he always wears socks, I can easily hear the metal on the hardwood floor when he walks. I remember the first time I asked him about it. He cryptically told me that he lost it because of a mistake. For weeks I wondered what he could have meant. Was he in a train or automobile accident? Or could it have been a birth defect? A highly abusive parent? If only I had known then what really happened. I wouldn't have spent my time thinking of such trivial problems that our world has.
Compared to what he tells me, we have is easy here. The most danger I have here is my sickness and myself. However, his countless stories of battles and struggles harbor true suffering. The least I can do is make all of this easier for him. And that is why I can't tell him what I'm feeling…It'd just be too selfish. For him to return to his homeland, that's all he wants. If I tell him, it'll only complicate things and cause him even more regret and sadness. How did I fall in love with the one man who wants nothing more than to leave me and never return?
"I think we'll be ready to start preliminary tests on Monday." I say cheerfully from the backseat. We're on our way home from work and I'm glad to be done for the week. Edward sighs agitatedly.
"I wish we could just do them tomorrow." He complains, impatient as always. I too am excited for the tests, but I do enjoy the relaxation of the weekend. However, I never used to be like this until Edward came along. Before him, I was an even worse workaholic. But now, even though he mostly reads chemistry and physics books when we're home, I like being there with him. I like when his eyes hurt too much from reading for so long and he takes a break to come sit to me at my desk, conversing slowly with his eyes closed. And I like cooking small meals for the two of us, taking half of it to wherever he's decided to sprawl out with a book that day. Although sometimes I wish he would spend time with just me, without an excuse for doing so.
"Everyone needs breaks. Just enjoy the weekend. It's beautiful out." I say chuckling at his fiery work ethic. Doesn't he ever want to take time for himself?
"You people take so many breaks." He muses. I hesitate, staring sadly at the back of his head, knowing that by "you people" he means everyone on this planet. I hate how easily words like that from him can hurt me. It's as if he's reminding me that he doesn't want to be here…with me. But I shove my feelings aside and let out a light but forced laugh.
"You'd do well to start acting like us and relaxing more. You're too stressed out." I say. I see him shrug from behind.
"I guess it won't hurt to much to take the night off." He says.
"Really? No reading or anything?" I ask excitedly, leaning forward with a bright smile on my face. He laughs at my tone, turning his head to the left to glance at me.
"Fine, no reading. I don't know what I'm going to do then though." He agrees haltingly. I plant my arms on the back of the front seat, resting my chin on my hands.
"We could go out to dinner."
"With what money?"
"Nowhere fancy, just a café or something." I say, praying he'll cave and just go with me. All I want is to get him to let go for once. To see that smile all evening would be a dream come true for me.
"Alright, but you'll have to order for me. I don't know what's good around here." He says. I grin at him, trying to hide the excitement in my mind. My heart is fluttering as if it's a date he's just agreed to. I know it's simply dinner with a close friend but it's a monumental event to me.
At this moment I can't help but think this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. Edward is sitting across from me, a cup of steaming black coffee raised to his mouth, unable to take a sip due to his uncontrollable laughter. I don't even remember what I said to make his laugh; it must have been a joke of some sorts. All I can think about is how handsome he looks right now and how happy he makes me.
"So what did you say after that?" He asks between chuckles. I stare at him blankly for a few moments before remembering that I had been telling him the story of a humorous argument I had with my teacher during my secondary schooling.
"Oh yeah, I asked him if…" I pause, grimacing as I suddenly feel a dull pain rise in my chest, rapidly becoming sharper. Not now! Any other time but this would have been okay with me. Edward's smile quickly disappears as he leans forward.
"Are you alright?" He asks, concern clear on his face. I nod quickly, opening my mouth to speak. However, not a word comes out. I hurriedly grab my handkerchief from my pocket and raise it to my mouth just as I begin to cough. I shut my eyes tightly as I try to push through the unbearable pain that has taken over my lungs and throat.
"Alphons?" I hear Edward ask faintly. My head is spinning and I can't stop coughing. Why at a time like this? I want nothing more to stop because I am so embarrassed, but it's uncontrollable. It feels as if my body is rejecting my own lungs and trying to force them out. I turn away from Edward, pitching forward with each cough. Please just let it stop! I hear his chair scrape on the floor as he moves to get up, but I hold out my hand to halt him.
Finally after many moments I cease coughing. Making sure he can't see, I pull the cloth away from my lips, confirming the small blot of blood staining it. After hastily wiping my mouth, I shove it deeply back into my pocket. When I turn back to the table, Edward is frozen in a half standing position, his good arm gripping the table so tightly his knuckles are white. Wide-eyed, he straightens up and walks over to me.
"Are you alright?" He asks, putting on his jacket. I can tell he's getting ready to leave, but I don't want our evening to end. However, I look around the room and find many other patrons staring at me, sending another jolt of sharp embarrassment through my body. Maybe we should leave.
"Yeah, I've been suffering a cold the past couple of days." I lie hoarsely, starting to stand up. But as I raise myself a sharp pain starts in my head. It always happens after I cough like that. As I reach out to the table for balance, I find myself gripping a metallic feeling hand instead. I look at Edward and then glance at our hands. My head is still whirling and I can barely comprehend what's going on.
"Come on, let's get you home." He says quietly, grabbing my jacket off of my chair for me. Taking it from him, I slide it on slowly while tying to fight the dizziness. I watch him set some money on the table, but his hand seems to be swimming back and forth in my vision. As I turn toward the exit, I feel Edward's arm slide around my back, holding me up. Even though he's shorter than I, his help significantly stables me.
"Would you like me to pick up some cough medicine on the way home? There must be a pharmacy open somewhere around here." He says as I settle into the backseat of the car. I chuckle sadly, knowing it won't help.
"They're surely closed by now. It's past dark. Besides, I'm fine."
"You looked like you were going to pass out in there. And you're really pale." Edward argues before starting up the car. I don't answer as we begin heading home. I simply lean my head back on the side door, staring up at the night sky as we drive. It's so clear tonight I can almost pretend my day has been just as good as the weather is. However, I just ruined our evening with my sickness. He can't know about it. I can't justify why in my head, but I just know that I'd do anything to keep this a secret from him. Maybe it's the same reason I keep my feelings for him a secret, so I don't further complicate his life. Yeah, that must be it.
"Really, I'm fine Edward." I argue as he insists on helping me to my bed. However, I am enjoying the feeling of his arm around me despite my embarrassment at needing help. He releases me as I lower myself down to sit on the edge of the bed. I begin taking off my shoes as I'm silently aware of him leaving the room. I'm sure he's off to go find a corner of the apartment to read in now. After all, our "relaxing" time out was cut short. I shed down to my shorts and undershirt and pull my blanket up to my abdomen. I guess I might as well read too.
Feeling dejected, I pick up the book I've been working on recently and open it up. However, before I can finish a sentence Edward reenters the room. I look up and see him holding two cups of coffee, smiling broadly at me.
"I thought you said no reading." He comments as he plops himself down on my bed. I stare at him in surprise as he trades me a mug for the book. Tossing it to the side, he turns to face me, sitting cross-legged again like he was earlier today when we were working.
"I'm sorry, I thought that's what you went off to go do." I say apologetically. He smirks as he takes a sip of steaming liquid.
"Just because you're sick doesn't mean I'll go back on my word. Besides, I was having fun. So why not continue our coffee date here?" My heart lurches as the word "date" leaves his mouth, even though I know he doesn't mean it that way. I sit up and take a sip of my own drink, savoring the taste. I savor everything lately, because I know I don't have too much longer. I may have a few years, but that's about it. Every time I eat, or bathe, or feel a breeze, I savor it. I especially do this when I look at Edward. I'd give anything to touch him more than the occasional hand on the shoulder or pat on the back. And I'd give even more to feel him touch me.
"Alphons are you okay?" I hear him ask. I realize that I closed my eyes for a long time as I reflected on my rapidly ending life. Snapping my eyes open, I smile at him.
"Yeah I'm fine. This coffee is great. Thanks!" I answer cheerfully. However, my smile fades as he continues to give me a concerned look. "What's wrong?" I ask. He sighs, looking down at the blankets.
"I'd like to ask you the same thing but I know you won't tell me." He responds. I lean forward slightly, frowning at him.
"Where did that come from?" I ask, saddened by the look on his face. Have I hurt him in some way?
"You look so sad sometimes, but you never tell me why. You were on the way home from work today. You think you're hiding it well but you're not." He accuses. I hesitate, taken aback by his sudden straightforwardness.
"You don't talk to me when you're sad either." I respond sadly.
"Because you know why I get sad Alphons, I don't belong here! I'm not talking about me." He retorts, raising his voice. I close my eyes to try and absorb the pain those words bring me. He's right. I do keep secrets from him, a lot at that. But his constantly talking about the fact that he wants to leave doesn't help my sadness. It's bad enough that I'm dying in the first place without that.
"Maybe if you weren't like a broken record constantly talking about how you don't belong here and you want to leave, I wouldn't get so sad!" I respond just as angrily as he did.
"Am I at fault for wanting to return to my loved ones?" He asks as he stands up, gesturing at himself with his hand. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I can't stop them. Why doesn't Edward ever take a moment to think about how he makes me feel?
"Your fault was using me to replace your brother! You don't even care about me. You just use me for comfort, like a stuffed animal. In fact, last time I checked you thought all of this was just a waking dream that you're having on the wrong side of some damn gate!" I shout, unable to control my emotions any longer. I've been holding them in far too long, and now I'm bursting. Edward's face immediately changes to pain, and I have to look away.
"Is that what you think, that I don't care about you?" He asks. I continue to stare into space, not answering him. Yes, that is what I think, and he obviously knows that. There's no need to dignify him with an answer.
"Alphons, that's not it at all. I told you that everyone has a counterpart here and back home. Do you honestly think I came to Romania expecting to find you? It just happened this way. And I stuck with you because we became best friends and because I care about you too much for my own good. Half the time I scare myself because I start to wonder if I should just stay here and be with you." He answers sadly. Be with me? What does he mean by that?
"But you won't." I whisper, tears streaming down my face. I don't care if I'm being selfish right now, I can't hold it in any longer. If he feels guilty, I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore.
"I can't. How would Al feel if I did that?"
"How would Alphons feel?" I retort, knowing I sound childish.
"That's not fair." He says, sitting back down on the bed. I bring my legs up to my chin, still covered by the blanket. He'll never understand.
"This whole situation's not fair Edward. I was fine before you came along, just pursuing science like I always have. Then all of the sudden you show up and make me care about you, and then you start telling me you want to leave. How's that fair?" I sob, hiding my face in my knees. I'm so angry with him, but at the same time I just want him to love me. That's all I've ever wanted from him.
"Alphons…" He breathes, his hand settling on my leg through the blanket.
"Don't touch me. You're making me feel worse."
"Alphons please…" Edward persists, sliding closer to me. I'm motionless as I feel him wrap his arms around me, burying his face in my neck and hair. If I weren't so upset I'd be elated by his embrace.
"I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen." He apologizes into my skin.
"For what to happen?" I ask, my voice muffled by the blanket.
"For us to feel this way." He whispers. I tense up. Does he mean what I think he means?
"What way do you feel?" I ask bravely. For a few very long moments Edward is silent. I impatiently await his response, almost afraid of what he'll say. In just a few short minutes, we've gone from sipping coffee to pouring out our secrets and emotions.
"I feel like…I love you and I want to be with you." He whispers. My heart races at his words, and I can barely believe what I just heard. He loves me? "Isn't that what you meant before too?" He asks, and for the first time I hear a certain shakiness in his voice. This may be the only time I've ever witnessed Edward not displaying the upmost of confidence.
"Yes." I say simply, at a loss for words. Edward exhales heavily, his breath weaving through the hair on the back of my neck. The sensation gives me a small chill that runs down my spine. Then I feel him lift his head from mine.
"Can you let me see your face?" He asks, his voice sounding small. After a moment of hesitation, I slowly lift my head from my knees and look at him. I know I'm covered in tears, but there's nothing I can do about it. Edward is wearing the saddest look I've ever seen.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice even quieter.
"Not if it makes you look that sad." I answer. How could I make him do this is if it hurts him so much? His eyes flit down to the bed as he begins to speak.
"I'm sad because I know I've been hurting you all this time by holding myself to some stupid standard. There's no reason I shouldn't let myself be happy here too."
"Are you sure?" I ask, afraid of causing him more regret. I know I've already given in to my selfishness by telling him my feelings, and I don't want to take it any farther if he doesn't really want it. He nods in answer, his hand finding its way to my cheek and neck. I let my eyes fall closed at the feeling of his touch. I've always imagined what it'd feel like to have his hand caress me like this, but this is completely different. Nothing beats the real thing.
"Okay." I whisper, giving in to my wants. Within seconds his lips are upon mine and feeling is more than I could have ever hoped for. I never imagined our first kiss to be after we cried and screamed at each other, but our argument doesn't dampen the sensation for me at all. I straighten out my legs and wrap my arms around his back, holding him close to me. Our lips move slowly together, and I lose myself in the feeling of his mouth.
My breath catches in my throat as I feel his tongue slide along my lower lip. As he pushes his way into my mouth, he also pushes his body against mine until I'm lying on my back and he's on top of me. Letting my head relax into my pillow, I begin to explore his mouth and body. I'm breathing too fast for my own good, but I can't help it when he gets me so excited. I relish in every touch he gives me. Our hands run over each other's bodies uncontrollably and our tongues intermingle hungrily. I've wanted this for so long, and now that it's finally come to be I couldn't be happier.
Finally, after who knows how long, we break for air. When I open my eyes, Edward is staring down at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
"What?" I ask cautiously.
"Can I sleep here in your bed with you tonight?" He asks softly. I give him a nod and he returns it with a smile as he gets up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me, he begins to unbutton his shirt. I feel myself beginning to blush as he stands to remove his trousers. How many times have I seen him undress in front of me? Now all of the sudden, it takes on a whole new meaning. One he's down to his undershirt and shorts like me, he turns around and looks at me for a moment.
"You sure you don't mind me sleeping here?" He asks. I look up at him and pull the covers back.
"I don't mind at all." I answer, watching as he lies down next to me. He rests his head on my outstretched arm, settling a concealed metal hand on my upper chest. I sigh in contentment as I feel his body line up with mine, our legs tangling. After a few silent minutes of lying together, I reach my free hand around to the back of his head and tug gently at the tie in his hair until it gives way. Letting it become lost in the blankets, I run my fingers slowly through his long locks, careful not to pull it.
"That feels good." Edward whispers tiredly, his eyes closed.
"I'm glad." I answer. When was the last time he was touched by another person? His brother, who he spent all his time with, wasn't even truly human the last four years he was in his homeland. So any embraces between them would have been cold and hard. Then he came here, and dedicated himself to research. I'm with him almost every minute of every day, and nobody touches him. He must be so lonely…
Of course he's lonely. He's lost everything he ever knew. A wave of shame washes over me as I being to think about how immature I acted earlier. I've always tried to minimize his pain, but I've never tried to understand it. A small part of me, the last logical part left, still holds a semblance of doubt towards his story. Yet in my heart I know he's not lying, or at least he doesn't think he is. Whenever I hear him moan in his sleep from gruesome nightmares or I catch him at his desk with red eyes from crying, I know he's not making things up.
I look at his peaceful face, realizing that if I truly love him I'll have to help him get back to his brother. The boy has already invoked so much jealousy within me and I haven't even met him. I know I shouldn't be jealous. He's his little brother for goodness sakes. But in reality, I think I'm just jealous of his entire life from before he came here. It's that life that he wants to return to; it's that life that is taking him away from me.
Placidness settles over me as I come to terms with our fate. We've passed the point of no return, so we're only going to grow closer from here on out. I can't keep him here with me, so the most I can do is savor what we have when we have it. Part of me hopes that I die before he leaves, so I will have him beside me for the rest of my life. But even if he leaves before then, I think I'll be okay with it.
I can tell he's asleep now by his breathing. My hand leaves his hair and begins to trail along the lines of his face. God, he is so beautiful. Sighing, I wrap my arms around him, sliding closer. His faint breath tickles my collarbone as I settle into him. His metal hand remains on my chest as I lean forward and give him a quick peck on the forehead. Yes, I'll savor these moments for as long as I need to. They'll get me through anything.