Absence, a fullmetal alchemist fanfic

((Disclaimer: I do not own 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood' or 'Fullmetal Alchemist'. 'Fullmetal Alchemist' and 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood' belong to 'Hiromu' Hiromi Arakawa.))
(Author's notes: Hello. This is a little idea I came up with just now. I was gorging myself on sweets when I thought of this. It's kind of Valentine's Day centred for this chapter, but not really at the same time. So here it is, please review the story for support if you enjoyed it (^_^)

March 14th – Sunday 5:10pm – Central Amestris:

He stiffens upon hearing the soft question flow past her lips, a gentle hush of delicate Xingese words and accent rolling off her fluent tongue as she cocks her head to the left – large brown eyes wide with impending question. Purple bruise reflecting the light of the moon.

He smiles, a weak attempt to hide his embarrassment and reaches up with his free hand and scratches the back of his head. The other hand, his right, hides still behind his lower back. His fingers encircle and encase a rectangular, little box wrapped in plain, brown paper.

Was he really doing this? Right now? Had he put in enough effort? Would it all be worthwhile?

He had no clue.

Although life didn't come with a manual, he really wished it did right now. To be able to flick through thick pages, word after word and reside with knowledge, his ultimate escape from the moment at hand.

No.

He was doing this. It was embarrassing and he felt clumsy and awkward, but he was doing this. All he had to do was take in a few deep breaths, reverting back to the night before's previous exercises when he had first made the decision, and suck in his gut bravely. Opening his mouth, a little too quickly, he thrust his right hand out from behind his back – lacking the grace he had originally planned to have - and bowed at the waist in the customary Xingese way. He heard her gasp. He felt his stomach tighten. Was his effort enough?

March 13th – Saturday 12:00 pm – Central Amestris:

He stands over the stove top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and torso covered in an apron. He remembers how his older brother insists that the apron appears strange on him, but brushes it off. He quite likes the apron, Alphonse Elric. It's the apron she gave to him, little May Chang. Of course he will wear it; it's from her after all.

He bows his head as he turns on the heat and reaches for a packet to his right, laying on the bench to his left. Without looking away from the dancing flames of blue, orange and yellow, he tears it open and empties the contents of the packet into the warming stove dish. He waits for a few minutes, watching it as the substance inside slowly melts and gives off a rich smell. He takes in a deep breath and sighs.

He remembers how he truly missed the taste of such sweet things when he was without a body.

He shivers at the memory.

He reaches under the stove top, opens a drawer and reaches into it gently, hoping to not make so much noise at such late hours of the night. He fishes around, fingers searching until they grasp a large wooden spoon. With gentle grip and stirring motions, he slowly stirs the now liquid substance in a smooth, whisking like manner.

After another few moments of stirring, he retracts his hand along with the spoon, covered in the liquid, and places the utensil in the sink to his right. He jumps when he hears a noise from upstairs, hoping he has not been uncovered.

He hopes that they cannot smell the fragrance of his cooking.

He empties the contents of the stove dish into a large bowl, to which he fetched from the overhead compartment. He would've gone for a smaller one if it hadn't been buried under such heavy and metallic dishes and pots. One false move and it would've all been over. He stalks, turning on his heel, opens the food pantry and searches around inside.

He finds marshmallows, of the fun sized kind, and dried cranberries and glazed fruits diced into small pieces. He takes a small handful of each and places them into his concoction. With a stir of a clean spoon, he combines them and proceeds to cover his hard work with a film of plastic wrap. He places the bowl in the fridge and shuts the door with a satisfied smile.

He's glad Ed told him such news, even this late at night.

May was to come to their apartment for a visit. It had been too long since Al had last seen her, his dear little friend.

It seemed a little strange that she was coming out of the blue. She could have come anytime. Alphonse had written her many letters saying so.

But she had never replied or told him that she was coming.

And Al found that a little strange – along with the fact that now was the raining season in Xing. He hoped her travelling wouldn't be too inconvenienced by the weather. But naturally, Alphonse Elric was very happy and excited to hear of her coming and couldn't wait for her to arrive.

He wanted to surprise her.

Big deal.

But he remembered how she enjoyed sweets so much when she had last been in Amestris. He was making it out of friendship, that was it – and the glad feeling he felt that she was coming to see them.

March 14th – Sunday 8:00 am – Central Amestris:

"Al!" Ed shouts from the other end of the house, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Yes, brother?" The younger of the two replies, wandering down to towards Ed from the reading room – so that he wouldn't have to shout. Alphonse wasn't really one for shouting, you see. He had been reading about healing alchemy – Alkahestry. May had been teaching him, along with the Xingese language; back when she had last been in Amestris.

"Have you seen Ben?" He asked, still shouting, even though Alphonse was right next to him.

"Brother…"

"I'm serious Al!" Ed hissed eyes anxious. "I've lost him! Winry's gonna-"Ed's eyes shone, as his line of gaze fell upon Alphonse's first finger, which lay upon his lips. "Oh, you're right! I should be whispering!" He whispered.

"Does Winry know?" Alphonse asked, letting his hand fall to his side again. He watched as Ed's eyes darkened with panic.

"No."

"How long has he been gone?"

"I don't know, but I've been searching around twenty minutes."

"Where's Winry?"

"With Sarah, in the bedroom upstairs," He said under his breath. "Asleep." He added. "Sarah was fussing last night; we think she's a little unwell." Alphonse nodded in response, eyes falling on the dark smudges around his older brother's eyes. Judging by those rings, he had been up all night too.

"Alright, I'll search around downstairs, and I guess you can do upstairs." Upon seeing the worried look in Edward's eyes, Alphonse smiled genuinely. "Don't worry; we're going to find him."

"Thanks Al." Ed returned. "You're a life saver. I swear all I did was nod off for a few seconds. He's growing up so fast. I forget sometimes that he's old enough to walk around now."

"He's only just started." Alphonse threw in. "So he can't have gotten far." He reassured.

"Of course." Ed replied, nodding his head. "And let's go, before Winry wakes up."

"Alright, I'll come get you if I find him."

"Yeah, and I'll tell you if I find him."

"Yep." With one last nod of their heads, Ed and Al split up. Edward headed back up the stairs and Alphonse headed back in the direction he came. He decided he would search every hall, nook and cranny and room for his nephew and make his final destination the reading room. It was right at the end of the house, he should find his brother's son before he reached there in any case.

So he set to his work, scouting the hallways, searching under furniture, on top of pillows and other soft surfaces (Ben was fond of soft things you see) and in every room downstairs that he could think of. After searching the lounge, Alphonse started to worry. Perhaps Ben wasn't down stairs after all. He hoped Ed was having more luck.

Just as he was about to turn around to head back to the stairs, a noise reached his ears from near the reading room. Of course! How could he have forgotten the kitchen? Hurrying back down the hallway, the ash-blonde haired teen skidded into the floor-boarded space of an array of scents and foods. His eyes widened when they settled upon the fridge door, which lay agape, by some unseen block.

He rushed over and opened the door to its full reach, eyes downcast on the floor. A tiny boy of pale skin and short blonde hair sat before him. As Alphonse knelt down beside him, he was met with a pair of large, golden orbs of the boy's eyes. He smiled at him and reached out a hand and stroked his head.

"Hey there, Ben." He greeted, sighing a sigh of utter relief. The child cooed and gurgled at the affectionate touch of his Uncle, eyes closing over. His head was something Winry and Ed referred to as his 'weak spot'. Kind of like the place between Den's leg and stomach – she kicked her leg around happily whenever she was scratched there. Swaddling his arms around him, Alphonse pushed off the ground and guided Ben's head to his shoulder to rest, hand underneath his rear. It was only when his face pushed into Alphonse's neck, that he realised something was wrong.

Why was he so sticky?

He pulled Ben away from the warmth of his skin and observed his face questioningly. His eyes pupils narrowed in realisation as his eyes soaked up the colour of brown, colourful specks of sweets and the unmistakable orange array of dried fruits clinging to his skin.

"Al!" Ed called, forgetting to keep his tone down again. He skidded into the kitchen and slammed into the doorframe. "Did you-"He cut off his sentence as his gaze fell upon Ben, in Alphonse's arms. Ben glanced up from Alphonse and set his eyes upon his Father. He grinned cheekily and lifted a hand in the direction of Ed – a gesture that he wanted to be held by his Dad.

"Haha," Alphonse laughed nervously, balancing Ben in his arm as he scratched the back of his head. "He got into the food."

"You found him." Ed said simply, rushing forward and holding his arms out for Ben. Ben leant forward in Alphonse's arms, chuckling. Alphonse took the hint and handed Ed his son. "Bit of a mess, huh?" He noted, rubbing at the smudge marks around Ben's chin and mouth. "Thanks for finding him." Ed praised, nudging Al with his elbow.

"No problem." Alphonse replied, nervous tone still evident in his voice. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"No…" Ed brushed it off with a shrug and frowned at Ben's face.

"Where did this chocolate come from?"

"Uh…" Alphonse began, earning a questioning look from his brother. "I made it last night."

"Oh," Ed said. "Sorry about Ben eating it." Alphonse waved his hands, forcing a smile to his face amid the sinking feeling in his chest he felt.

"No, no," He opposed, chuckling under his breath in an effort to sound more convincing. "It's all right." His stomach churned - a sign of strong disagreement and unsettlement.

March 14th – Sunday 9:00 am – Central Amestris:

He runs around the house, charging around upstairs and downstairs, picking up his belongings as he goes. He fetches his wallet – full of a few notes and coins – and a bag affixed with a strap that hangs off his shoulder neatly. He runs to the front door, slips on his shoes and throws a cap on top of his head. His short hair bristles against the rough, navy blue material, becoming static as he rubs at it – hoping to position it more comfortably on his scalp.

He hushes a farewell to his brother; to Winry, Sarah and Ben as he flings open the door and charges out into the clean, spring-time air of crisp Sunday morning-time.

It takes him less than half an hour to reach the little market village – especially due to the pace that he's walking at – and immediately starts scouting up and down the little stalls, eyes eager and peeled for a certain good.

He sees fruits and knitted pieces, crafts and sewing of all sorts.

He sees so much variety and culture expressed in such a little crowded place of creativity and assortments – yet he doesn't see the good that he wishes to see with his own eyes.

He eventually stops at a tiny, almost unnoticeable stall that hides behind one of cravings. It reminds him of her – the way it is so small and delicate and constructed in such graceful matters. The curtains that shroud it are pleated and braided in tiny embraces – just like her hair – but that of burgundy colour. Upon it lies a minute table, crafted from the desert trees of exotic places. It is littered with all sorts of trinkets and an array of foods.

Upon seeing a certain food, he gasps in surprise. How long had it been since he had eaten Xingese cuisine? Not since she had made it for him, certainly. How long ago had that been? He didn't even know. His mind drifts as he remembers the taste of scented rice pilaf – a dish of peas, exotic fried vegetables, sauces and spices, of sweet and sour. He grows hungry at the memory, in this sudden requiem he feels for such foods.

He blushes at the cheeks when he fells eyes observing him. A stunted old woman of wrinkles, slanted eyes and small claw-like fingers watches him intelligently. He smiles at her politely and goes tips his hat at her in the ordinary Amestrian fashion – but discards the idea of doing so and instead settles for a deep bow at the waist, a customary Xingese act of politeness. She nods at him, a bow of her own, and drums her short, stubbed fingers on the table patiently.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Alphonse opened his mouth to ask, "What do you call this?"

Without taking her eyes away from his, she replied casually: "Baozi." A simple word that rolled off her tongue without a moment's hesitation. "It is a Xingese meat bun – we call it Baozi." Alphonse's eyes drifted back to the bun.

"What is inside? Just meat?" He asked curiously. He had never seen such a neatly crafted bun before. It looked as if it almost wasn't a food, but a craft instead. The white colour and smooth texture fancied him, as did the delicate pleats of its closure did.

"These ones," She addressed, waving her hand to her left, where more Baozi lay. "Are only meat buns. But these," She waved her hand to the right. "Are vegetable, meat and noodle Baozi."

"I see, thank you." Al acknowledged with an incline of his head.

"They're a popular dish in Xing." She bowed her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "In fact, the Prince is very fond of them himself." Alphonse smiled upon hearing that. Ling liked every type of food. That was no lie. He could eat he and Lan Fan's combined weight in stir fried rice alone – with a big bowl of rice in his free hand.

"May I have two?" He asked, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. "How much for two?"

"5 cenz." She replied, holding out her hand for the money and exchanged him for two Baozi, wrapped in a plain brown paper bag.

"Thank you." Al praised, bowing one last time in farewell before turning on his heel and walking back down the bustling alleyways of the market.

March 14th – Sunday 9:30 am – Central Amestris:

"Did you find what you were looking for, Al?" Winry asked Alphonse as he walked through the door and shut it softly behind him. He forced a smile to his face and shook his head.

"Nope." He wasn't trying to be rude by being too vague, but he really didn't want to go into detail.

"That's a shame." Winry sympathized, patting his shoulder and juggling Sarah in her free arm. "Maybe next time."

"Yeah," Al said, trying to make his tone sound happier and reassuring. "Maybe." In truth, he felt pretty miserable.

He had tried hard.

He had heard the news of his friend who was to come today at 10:00 am-ish, midnight the night before, and had done the best he could.

He had gotten up from his seat at midnight and cooked a dish he had hoped to celebrate her arrival with, only to have his adorable nephew come along and eat it.

He had gone to the markets to buy some of the dish he had failed to keep out of reach of tiny hands and mouths, only to find that there was none left available deep within the heart of the market stalls.

At least he still had the Baozi buns, at least he had something. He should be grateful for that, and he was, but he felt it still wasn't quite enough. He shrugged off Winry's hand and walks down the hallway towards the reading room – unsure of what to do further.

He sets to wrapping the buns in a small bow – just large enough to fit the both of them. He usually is quit the crafty person, good at poetry and writing and decorating – but today he doesn't feel so much in the mood for such things.

He tears up the brown paper bag in which the Baozi came in and wraps it around the close box. He affixes it with some sticky tape he found on his short pilgrimage to the reading room, laying above the kitchen counter – forgotten.

When he is finished, he places the small box on his lap and sighs.

It won't be long now until she arrives.

It won't be long until he has to present his gift of cold Baozi to her in his pathetic excuse of a gift wrapped box. He could at least heat them up for her; maybe they'd taste better that way. He allowed a small smile to his lips, perhaps she'd liked that.

He sits in the reading room and waits – ears awaiting the familiar sound of the soft doorbell being strummed. He wonders how long it will be until she arrives.

March 14th – 10:00 am Sunday – Central Amestris:

He arises upon hearing the doorbell over the noise of Winry's cooking, Sarah and Ben's chuckling and Edward's din.

He makes his way to the door unsurely, footsteps slow and chest constricted.

It has been a while, a little too long.

He hopes she is okay, healthy and well.

He hopes that she hasn't changed too much, even though such was expected when being away from one another so long.

He pauses in front of the door, small box in hand and sucks in a deep breath.

Why is he making such a big deal?

He doesn't know.

Perhaps it is not her, but instead the postman, or a hawker. He shakes the thought from his head, mentally scolding himself for thinking such things. But the act of being shy and bashful was madness itself though, was it not?

With one final drawing in of oxygen, he decides to surprise her and hides his hand containing the Baozi behind his back. He opens the door, slowly… it creaks…

He never expected her to be in such a way.

His eyes widen open seeing her.

How long had it been?

Was it really May?

He observes this woman before him, eyes tracing her in her a study-like manner. He absorbs the appearance of her ebony hair, entwined in delicate braids that reach at her knees.

He soaks in the spectrum of her pale moon-kissed skin, wondering if such a shade were even possible. She stands straight and tall, posture poised and held gracefully. He sees a movement flicker between her shoulder blade and her neck, a narrow slender space agape to the air.

He sees Xiaomei, wonders if she has grown bigger but brushes off the thought unconsciously upon recognising her height. She was taller now.

How much had she grown?

Was it really possible for someone who had once been so small to even grow so fast?

"May?" He hears himself say. A mindless uttering without permission from either his brain or lips. The young woman's stiff lips suddenly turn up in a warm smile, the movement creasing her eyes and lighting up her cheeks with a pale pink.

She nods.

It is her.

"May!" He hears himself repeat, voice so much happier and calm than what it was before. He feels the weight on his shoulders lift and his heart beat steadily as the moment passes.

She rushes forward, crashing into him eagerly and smiles happily. He grins, and lifts his arms to return the embrace when he remembers his box. He tucks it away in his jean pocket, out of sight, and encases her warmly.

"It's too long Alphonse." She greets, squeezing him tightly. Al feels out of breath – feels somewhat strangled – but feels eternally thankful for it, right in this moment. For an instant, he hopes that she will never let go, hoping that they can stay like this forever.

"Yep, way too long." He agrees with a chuckle, squeezing her back but in a much gentler manner.

He hopes he is being careful enough with her,

She may have grown taller but she is still only small and delicate. He releases her so he can meet her eyes for what feels like the first time in eternity.

She happily complies, searching deeply. He blushes lightly after a while and reaches out a hand to pat her crown. "Haha," he laughs nervously. "How have you been?" He asks, hoping she won't notice the sudden change of colour in his pigment.

"I've been good. So has Xiaomei." She replied, referring to Xiao with her last handful of words. The panda chirped, standing on its hind legs and gripping a braid of May's that extended down the front of her shoulder. She balances nimbly, acknowledging Alphonse Elric intelligently with her little panda eyes. Her nose wiggles as she sniffles and takes in the scent of the two people before her – one of Amestris and one of Xing. "And you?" She asks, smiling and swaying on the spot happily. Alphonse smiles at that – she hasn't changed much at all. But she does seem a little quiet, however – but Al simply brushes it off.

"Wonderful. Having a body truly is a wonderful thing." His smile widened. "Drinking water and just eating fruit and vegetables feel amazing alone."

"Of course," May agreed. "And everything inside of you is doing well?"

"Yeah," Al nodded. "I had to stay in the hospital for a while after regaining my body. It wasn't pretty, but I'm glad everyone helped me out the way they did."

"Yes," May softly said, a little uncomfortable as she wondered what exactly had happened to Alphonse in the hospital.

In an attempt to cheer her up, he added: "And Winry was making me apple pies like no tomorrow in an effort to fatten me up, just like she promised she would do back when we were on the train to Central when Ed and I were chasing the Philosopher's stone." He grinned and patted his stomach. "And you know what? It worked!"

May giggled at that and nudged Alphonse's belly with a single long finger.

"Yes, I can clearly see that." She teased, sounding a little more like the May he had known before.

"Haha," Alphonse laughed. The two stood at the doorway for a matter of moments before he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter the house. "I'm being rude, sorry. Come inside, we can catch up more inside."

May's eyes widened, "Oh no! Don't worry about that! I actually forgot where we were." She stalked forward gracefully and slipped into the house. "Thank you."

"No problem." Al grinned, before stepping inside and closing the door behind them.

It was so good to have her back.

March 14th – 2:00 pm Sunday – Amestris:

"So that's what has been happening in Xing, huh?" Alphonse asked amongst sipping his tea.

"Yep." May replied, setting Xiaomei on the table and feeding her a small crumb from her butter cake slice. She reached out for her tea that lay on her lap and gripped the cup with both hands elegantly.

"Ling Yao is to become Emperor and he is to find a wife before the end of the winter season." She took a sip of the hot liquid between her lips and sighed as the drink made its way down her throat towards the pits of her stomach.

"He is expected to get married sometime before the next winter season during the next year." She breathes, enlacing her fingers around her cup's handle.

"He will have 50 wives, have many heirs and bring greatness and honour to Xing." Alphonse nodded upon hearing her words. He knew quite a bit concerning Xingese customs.

May had once explained it and gone over certain things with him briefly before Ling, Lan Fan and her own self had departed for Xing once again.

"How does Ling feel about that?" Alphonse queried, curious as to how he and Ed's former companion was coping.

"There are rumours that he does not wish to be married for quite some time yet. It is also rumoured that he has no desire to have 50 wives from each of the clans."

"Quite a few rumours floating around Xing then?"

"Yep," May hushed. "Noble women and the court officials love to gossip." She lifted her cup again. "I have heard my own fair share of rumours myself, though I don't believe in spreading them."

"What kind of rumours?" Upon hearing Alphonse ask such a question, May almost spat out her tea.

"Al!" Al glanced at her, expression dumbstruck.

"Yeah?"

"You're just as bad as the ladies!" Al grinned upon hearing that, chuckling.

"So you're comparing me to the ladies then?" He asked, hoping to get a giggle or grin out of her. For some reason, she seemed a little awkward and unsure talking about marriages and heirs.

"Yes I am," May replied with a chuckle, reaching across the table and poking Al's arm. Al smiled in blissful response, in victory. It was so good to have her back. Even if she did seem a little different somehow.

March 14th – Sunday 4:00 pm – Amestris:

He picks up the Baozi from his back pocket, a nervous atmosphere abrew,

He fumbles the box over in his hands, fingers of soft, fleshy sinew.

He decides to ignore his gut, and go with what his heart says instead,

He refuses to gulp, to shiver or shudder, to give in to these feelings of dread.

He paces for an hour, longer, wondering what words to speak,

At 5:00 pm he swallows hard, knocks on her door, refuses to name his heart weak.

March 14th – Sunday 5:10pm – Central Amestris:

Was he really doing this?

Right now?

Had he put in enough effort?

Would it all be worthwhile?

He had no clue.

No.

Opening his mouth, a little too quickly, he thrust his right hand out from behind his back – lacking the grace she had had when she had handed him her presentation of crafts – and bowed at the waist in the customary Xingese way. He heard her gasp. He felt his stomach tighten.

Was his effort enough?

March 14th – Sunday 5:10 pm – Amestris:

"Alphonse," she greets, with an incline of her head – one of acknowledgement. She smiles upon seeing him. She has truly missed him. Her cheeks splash with the colour of pink spring, like they always do when she smiles or laughs. Alphonse smiles back upon seeing such colours trace back through his gaze, feeling the very same nostalgia May was feeling.

"Good evening, May." He replies, forgetting to be nervous or afraid. Instead he feels calm and unaffected. He doesn't know what it is, nor does he think he ever will – but he believes that May is most certainly the centre of such soothing gestures.

"Did you need something?" She asks, leaning in from the doorway. It was a spare room that she resided in, leant to her by the fellow Elrics. A little space cleared from dust and grime earlier in the afternoon. May likes it very much – she enjoys life outside of the Palace.

Suddenly, Alphonse remembers why he came and knocked on her door in the first place. The previous feeling of vertigo returns – all too familiar for comfort. "Uh…" He hums, fingers suddenly slipping on the box. It drops to the floor and rolls to a stop at May's feet.

With eyes wide in questioning manner, May reaches down for box, bending at her sculptured knees. "What's this?"

Waving his hands about and stumbling forward, Al somewhat cries, "No! No! Don't touch that! It's just a…"

He's cut off as he reaches down, collapsing at the knees in a desperate attempt to claim the box first. In the sudden clumsy movement, he hits his head against May's and topples to the ground.

He groans.

She moans.

He grasps his head,

She rubs at the forming bruise on her forehead.

A few moments later, the realisation hits him and he stumbles to his feet.

"May?" He hisses out of concern. She's leaning against the door frame, small figure hunched over slightly as she grabs at her face. "May?"

After a few moments silence, she mutters reassurance – however, there is no smile evident on her lips and no light evident in her eyes. "I'm okay." Comes the simple sentence that rings in Alphonse's ears.

"I'm so sorry." He apologises, reaching out his hands and lifting up her chin with twin cupped hands. He observes her face with worried eyes, tracing the bruise with keen vision. "I'll get you a binding if you like." He offers, reaching out and tracing the tender area smoothly. "I…"

He is suddenly cut off as she jerks away.

Probably upon realising the placement of their position.

Probably upon realising what could happen between them.

Perhaps a combination of both factors combines even.

He glances down at her, trying to meet her eyes. He feels a little hurt, but discards the feeling, deciding to tend to her rather than himself.

"May?" He calls. She bows her head, hiding her face. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He tells her gently, but finds himself unable to smile in reassurance in such moments as these.

She remains silent, wraps her arms around herself and keeps her face hidden. Alphonse starts to worry.

Perhaps she is very much so hurt after all.

He wants to make it up to her, to see her smile, to see her pale cheeks light up with that glow. He reaches down once more and picks up the box.

He decides it's the least he can do for her. He seizes the opportunity to present her his gift and make amendments for making her upset in such ways.

"I got you something." He says soothingly.

"You got me something?" She echoes, suddenly looking up at him – which surprises Alphonse, but at the same time makes him feel happy and relieved.

Suddenly being the centre of her attention, he smiles, a weak attempt to hide his embarrassment and reaches up with his free hand and scratches the back of his head. The other hand, his right, hides still behind his lower back. His fingers encircle and encase a rectangular, little box wrapped in plain, brown paper.

Was he really doing this?

Right now?

Had he put in enough effort?

Would it all be worthwhile?

He had no clue.

No.

Opening his mouth, a little too quickly, he thrust his right hand out from behind his back – lacking the grace he had originally planned to have - and bowed at the waist in the customary Xingese way. He heard her gasp. He felt his stomach tighten. Was his effort enough?

He heard the sound of paper tearing and a box being opened. He heard her gasp a second time.

The paper toppled to the floor. A gentle sleeping sound amongst the piercing noise of deafening silence.

He hears a sniffle, a quivering lip.

His head snaps upwards, eyes wide and questioning.

"I'm sorry Al," She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "But we can't be like this anymore."

All is silent as Al registers her words.

"May?" He calls, suddenly forgetting how to breathe.

"Don't think I don't know what day it is, Al. We mustn't be like this anymore, so innocent all the time. We're adults now, we can't be like this." She dropped the box. "I'm not eight years old anymore."

"What are you saying May?" The question leaves his lips before he can stop himself – although the point of feigning is long gone. His mind is blank, an untouched canvas. He doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know how to breathe.

She raises her head, stares in dead in the eye with those watery pools of hers.

"These few days I am staying, will be the last days I ever see you." She releases a sob and rubs at her eyes. "I am to be married."

(Hello, just a few things I want to mention. This is kind of an AU setting if you even call it that. Let's just say the Elrics – including Winry – are living in an apartment in Central Amestris. The second thing is that this is set after the whole story line of Brotherhood and May has been away from Alphonse since then. The last thing is that Ben and Sarah are made up names for Ed and Winry's children. Please review. I don't know if this should be a one-shot or something longer. Thank you.)