-1Disclaimer: these characters are not mine, I am making no money off of this.
Small Details
"You're in early. You haven't cut it."
"Hmm?" Riza Hawkeye glanced up from her paperwork, a slight frown creasing her forehead. The previous night had brought little sleep, and non sequiturs from the colonel weren't anything she was ready to deal with this morning. But asking to be spared was too much, and she steeled herself for a round of word games. At least he was alone, with no one to egg him on.
"Your hair," Colonel Mustang explained. "You haven't cut it."
"Oh. No, I suppose I haven't." The man barely noticed that she was a woman, and yet he realized she was overdue for a haircut? To say that the colonel's mind worked in mysterious ways would be something of an understatement. Riza went back to her paperwork, dismissing the exchange. She wasn't about to aide the colonel in shirking his work as he was so often prone to do.
"Were you going to?"
Apparently the subject wasn't one to be dropped. She lifted a hand to her hair, held back in a clip at the nape of her neck. It was just to her shoulders, and the weight had become familiar over the past few months. It was pleasant in a way to feel it against her neck when she showered or to run her hand through it when distracted or frustrated. And she enjoyed being able to look in the mirror sometimes and see the harsher angles of her face softened by it. Not that it mattered what she looked like, but a little change now and then was always welcomed. However, there were other matters of appearance to take into consideration. Fingers running over the clip, she decided that it had grown too long. She hadn't gotten as far as she had in the Military by looking pretty - nor did she have any desire to take that route.
"When I have the time. I'm aware it's unprofessional, sir, but I I have /I been rather busy with these reports that you…"
The colonel waved his hand dismissively as he leaned back in his chair and yawned. Riza winced as he placed his booted feet on his desk, stretched out as though ready to take a nap. Perhaps she shouldn't be so concerned with her own unprofessional presentation.
"Don't bother," he said as he stretched. "It actually makes you look female. It's a nice change."
"I would hardly use my hair as the deciding fact in regards to my gender, sir," Riza said flatly. I I suppose I should don a small skirt and expose half my breasts to you for any amount of familiar attention /I , she thought cynically to herself. But even still, the small compliment - because coming from the colonel it I was /I a compliment - was tucked away in the back of her mind as she returned to her work. Nothing more was said on the state of her gender or her appearance, and the matter was well and truly dropped.
Riza never did bother to get her hair cut.