It's about one in the morning. I have Sana sleeping over and am really tired, so I wrote about sleeping. Yay for me. Sana is writing about a brother and sister making out in some song she's writing. I don't even want to know, so I wrote this to distract me. But now that it's done, I have no way to blocked out the, "ookie they make out. And the jumped on him and then GASP! And like, woah, hey! And she was like, 'we're siblings we can wrestle'." That's what she's writing, seriously. I'm not even going to get into it. Okay, I'm ranting, so read and review, and be loved.
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The light would cast the projection of pinks and oranges at the foot of the bed, building confidence and inching forward until it jeered at the lidded eyes of Edward Elric; his golden hair loose and tousled in the midst of his dreams.
His wake up call was unpleasant, thus he uttered a moan and a stretch to adjust to the morn's birth. This gave him the opportunity to realize he was half off of the bed, and cursed at this, glaring at the blond haired female sprawled out over the majority of the bunk; pillow wrapped under her arm and the other around Ed's waist.
He flushed at this unconscious act.
The night had started sane enough; he was done reviewing his notes on alchemy, and had just turned off the light and crawled under the dove bleached covers, when a small fist had knocked at the door and announced that she had terrified of thunderstorm outside.
And that day had already been full of troublesome weather, starting from the second Al and himself had gotten off of the train, so with a sigh he had shared the warmth of his bed for the exchange of her company.
He couldn't have asked for a more eventful night – every flash of lightening or rumble from the dissatisfied heavens would cause a whimper or quiver until he had enveloped her in his chest and told her to shut up 'n' go to sleep.
And now this.
Her azure eyes fluttered and a small yawn escaped her lips, an apologetic smile offered when she gazed upon the irritated alchemist and remembered the previous night's predicament.
"Morning." This almost sounded like an unsure question, rather a thankful greeting.
He leaned in to sweep his fingers along her bangs, brushing her forehead with his lips, watching her eyelids collapse into a light sleep.
Had she been fully awake and with her beloved wrench handy he would have paid dearly for that.
But for now, it was payback.
And the sunrise settled, surveying from its post with a mild interest, while the birds flitted and sung, unnoticed.
And Ed couldn't help thinking that Winry was in for it today.