Sometimes it's the little things.
Like when he wakes up with her dog lying at his feet. Other than the steady rise and fall of Black Hayate's breathing, the room is still.
He mumbles something like why didn't she wake me up and forces himself out of bed, yawning. And then - wait, what's that smell?
Something down the hall seems to be burning.
What's going on - "Riza?" he calls as he closes the bedroom door behind him. "Is something wrong?"
She's in the kitchen, holding a plate of something that might look like waffles had waffles traveled to the earth's core and come back burned to a crisp, and giving said plate a look that Roy remembers all too well as her you're being unhelpful expression. (He's been on the receiving end of it enough times to know.)
"I ruined them," she says, with that calm way she has that pretty much means I'm annoyed but I don't feel like showing it.
He takes the plate from her hand. "No, you didn't. It would still be good with maple syrup..."
So for breakfast that morning, Roy has charred waffles almost smothered in syrup (and spends the work day complaining that he feels sick.)
And Riza pours herself a bowl of cereal.