It was a new day, the sun rubbing its own eyes before stretching itself out along with the wakening world. She left the house when the sun had just broken its first, sleepy ran over the horizon. The sky was still a deep, svelte blue except around the immediate vicinity of the sun's reach, where it was a rosy pink. Breathtaking. The autumn air was chilly and brisk, cutting the sensitive cavities of her nose and throat. The sharp, clean breath made her feel rejuvenated.
She had crept past Hayate, who merely raised his nose in query, but had lowered it again when the only answer was that of the door closing with a quiet click. She had escaped the notive of the manon the other half of her rather narrow bed, whose visage had been covered by a flop of messy, ebony hair.
Before they had gone to bed the night before, he had reached out for her. But after the deed had been done, he had sat on the opposite end of the bed, elbows on knees, head in hands. He oft grew bitter after such intercourse with her, as if it were her fault and her error to do such a traitorious deed. Indeed, it made her guilty, too, the way he accused her wordlessly. That was why she had left early.
She nodded at a passing construction man, working on the new dict, Amestris Preconstruction, or AmRec, as most civilians called it. The men in hardhats and jumpers were no longer an uncommon sight. The echoing clangs and booms were faint and the new rhythm of the new era.
She arrived at the office before anyone else. Letting herself into the building, she turned on all the lights and opened the window. Fresh air circulated and sunlight crept cautiously in. The dark gravity of the room was replaced by a brighter levity. She sat comfortably in her chair, pulling out some personal work from her locked drawer of her desk.
Roy walked in soundlessly next. "You left early."
His deep, resonant voice was suddenly too loud in comparison to the previously mute atmosphere. The symphony of birds and the whispering wind and the bass drum of construction dissipated.
"I couldn't sleep."
Roy gave a suspicious hum. Riza stared hard at her hand, gripping the pen so tight, they felt cold, and numb, and pale white.
Silence.
"Riza…" he sounded like her father, serious and admonishing, ready to give a lecture or a scolding. A terrifying comparison. "What is this cold front you're putting up against me?"
She chose her words cautiously, "Our current relationship has broken a barrier between us that wasn't meant to be broken. I am just reevaluating my morals and resetting some structure."
"You mean you're pushing me away, after all we've done, after all we've dreamed!"
"Please don't, General; not before work—"
"I broke your 'barrier' before, and I'll smash right through this one before you've built it; I'll annihilate and demolish anything in my way. I will have you, Riza Hawkeye!"
His declaration snapped something inside of her. Holding back tears, she thought of how meaningless his words seemed. Words; those words! Once spoken, only to vaporize into the chilled air after utterance. Evanescent words meant nothing to her any longer. They did not bind her to him the way they once did.
"Stop," she whispered. It was the strongest she could muster. Any less control and she would have screamed it.