PIXIE DUST
Disclaimer: I don't own fma. Sad but true.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I hate him.
I see the way he looks at her, and I hate him for it. I see the way he talks to her and I hate him for it. I hate him so much, all the time – but there's no escape, no release. No way out.
I've tried talking to Al, well, not really. I opened my mouth to speak, and then couldn't form the words. I can't tell him. He can't know.
No one is allowed to know. That's why they call it a secret. Another secret. I have too many secrets, all building up inside me, and I know, I know that one day I'm going to-
He thinks it's funny. When I get jealous, I've tried telling him I'm not but he doesn't believe me.
He loves her. I know that he loves her. I think that he loves her.
Maybe I should forget about him, get on with my life….I've tried that before. As it turns out I don't actually have my own life, everything I do revolves around other people. Like Al, I should tell Al.
No I shouldn't. He'd think it was wrong, or that he was taking advantage of me….which I guess he was. Is. It never felt like he was taking advantage of me though.
I love him.
It used to be fun, when we both worked in the military, it was un then. There was a great sense of accomplishment each time we had sex and no one caught us, maybe that's all it was.
The desire not to get caught; to push the boundaries as far as they could possibly go to see if they would break.
I hate him.
He doesn't notice, maybe I should tell him. No, no. Can't tell him, then he'd try to help me. Don't want help. Don't need it. Never needed it. I should try talking to him though…..just, just to see. Just to check.
"I hate you." Didn't mean to say that. Now he's looking at me.
"And why would that be exactly?"
"Because I loathe you and hope that you suffer a painful death." Didn't mean to say that either.
"Well." Now he's looking at me, looking straight through me, straight into me. I hate how he does that. "Can I do anything about that?"
"No. Yes. Stop seeing her."
"She's a friend." He's annoyed now.
"Oh. Stop seeing her."
"Are you jealous?" and now he's teasing me, because he loves it when I get jealous. Because he's like me. "Squirt?"
"No. Stop seeing her."
"What's wrong?" he's worried, taking my pale hand. I should have erupted at that last one.
"Everything. Stop seeing her."
"Tell me!"
"Stop seeing her. " I lie back against the bed, my face totally impassive, my voice expressionless. He puts his arms around me and I'm suffocating.
"Okay." My golden eyes jerk up at him and I twist in his hold. I sit upright in our, my, his, bed and stare down at him.
"What do you mean 'okay'?!" I demand of him. Roy Mustang blinks up at me.
"Exactly that Edward." He rolls over and is asleep in an instant. I stare down at him, and feel the tears begin to gather in my eyes. I shouldn't be crying. I lie back down, silently sobbing my heart out. I feel him roll over and put his arms around me again. The tears come thicker and faster and it's all I can do to breathe. Because never did I ever imagine he would say that to me. Never did I ever imagine he would say yes.
"Why are you crying?" Because never did I ever really believe that he was mine. That I had something that was mine, and only mine; I never thought I had something to live for.
did it, I fixed my brother I left this world.
And then I came back. And I found my own precious treasure, which up till this moment I never realized, was mine. So now I'm crying because I have to learn how to live again.....
"…I..don't...hate you." He chuckles and pulls me closer to him, and suddenly his arms feel safe, and I can breathe again.
"I'm glad squirt. I don't hate you either." That's as far as we've gotten so far, but now it doesn't seem to matter any more. I know he loves me, I know I love him. I can breathe.
"Night colonel bastard." I mumble. Just before I slip into unconsciousness I hear him mutter, "Fuhrer, damnit Ed."