'There's something about those eyes. I can't shake it… The colour alone is remarkable enough, to say the least; a warm dark golden hue like burnt honey. It's the intensity that makes them almost seem haunted by the past, but still, there's a spark - a fire - behind them.'

Roy had known that his new teacher had a daughter who lived with him. But when she opened the door of the simple, if not a little run down, house that he had been directed to by some helpful townsfolk after he got off the train, he was taken aback. He had never felt such an intense stare in his life. It's not that he didn't have experience with intense people. The truth was quite the opposite, really. His whole life he had been surrounded by beautiful women that could get any information they wanted out of men in powerful positions with a soft touch, a smile, or a look with their eyes. Despite all that, nothing could have prepared him for meeting her.

Those eyes seemed to pierce his very soul with no effort as if she could see right through him and all his flaws. She had a more rounded face and soft features gave her the look of innocence, maybe a hint of naivety even though she couldn't be much younger than him, a year or two at the most. Her clothes were plain and her short blonde hair was kept neat and simple. The lowlight of the sun setting behind him glinted off her elegant golden earrings that were the only accessory that she seemed to deem worthy of wearing. It was a very effortless and natural look, as though she couldn't care less about how she looked but it also wasn't trying to hide the fact she was beautiful.

"Mr. Mustang?"

Her soft, yet assertive voice saying his name snapped Roy out of the almost dream-like state he was in. "Yes, sorry Miss Hawkeye," he stumbled in finding any words that would cover up the fact that he had been staring at her very intently without so much as introducing himself. "I've had a long day of travel, I'm just a little tired," he chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

'Smooth moves Roy. That fumbling first impression is going to do wonders for you. Really? You can't keep it together for five minutes because of a pretty girl? It's like you've never interacted with one before, much less was raised by a whole herd of adoptive sisters and an aunt who would absolutely disown you if she saw what an idiot you were being right now.'

The corner of her mouth twitched into the smallest hint of a smile. "Please sir, just call me Riza," she said as she opened the door further to let him into the house. "If things go well with your training you could be staying here for quite a while, so there's no reason to be formal with me. Although, I should warn you that I can't make any promises on behalf of my father."

"Well, okay then. Riza it is." He tried to flash his most charming smile at her but it fell flat and he just felt like he was trying way too hard. Trying to shake it off, he stepped into the home. But as he crossed the doorway his latter foot got caught between his suitcase and the lip of the baseboard. With his legs being stiff from sitting all day on the train, they weren't quick enough to catch him and he tripped, landing on his hands to break his fall. Roy cleared his throat as he got back up and felt the heat rise in his face as he noticed the tiniest glimmer of amusement in her eyes, as though she was trying not to make fun of him, but it was taking quite a bit of effort.

"Are you alright?" Riza managed to ask without laughing.

'Okay Roy, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to screw everything up and make yourself look like a complete blithering idiot? Everything has to go perfectly here since there's no guarantee that this Berthold Hawkeye will even take you on as an apprentice. And judging from what Riza said, it doesn't sound like he's really keen on having incompetent students so you have got to get a hold of yourself.'

"Ugh, my two left feet and I are just fine, thank you," Roy sighed as he brushed himself off, trying to shake the flustered feeling racing through his body as he looked around at his surroundings. The inside of the house was much better-taken care of than the outside. Everything that he could see seemed tidy and clean. Right inside the doorway, it wasn't so much a foyer as it was a short hallway that flowed right into the rest of the house. There were two archways on either side of him and in front was a hallway that was shared by a staircase. On one side there was what looked to be the study and the other was a dining room and further down the hallway there was one door parallel to another archway. Roy couldn't quite see what was beyond that.

"I'll show you to your room so you can set your things down," she said those words like she had recited them a hundred times before. It was probably because she had seen so many before him come and go. Each hopeful stranger trying to understand the science of deconstructing and reconstructing matter was no different from the last or the next one to come and this was nothing new for her.

Roy nodded in response, not entirely trusting his voice to say anything that didn't sound idiotic or nervous. Nerves about his training maybe? Right, that's probably what this is all about he decided. It wasn't at all about this girl he didn't know at all, but about his studies and his hopefully soon to be teacher. His teacher, who was the father of this very attractive girl who he couldn't seem to act like a normal person in front of.

'I cannot be distracted from my alchemy training. That's the whole reason I'm even here; not to get all worked up over some girl. It was hard enough for Chris to get this connection for me. Going after his daughter would most likely not win me any favours.'

While this was completely true, the fact seemed to barely hang in Roy's mind. She led him up the stairs, down the hallway that had four doors, two on either side. The first door on the left was half open, showing that it was the washroom. At the very end of the hall, Roy could see the other door on the left was closed and, unlike the rest of the house, it looked like it had been left untouched for years. Even the carpet was worn unevenly from lack of traffic.

Riza passed the first door on the right, which was also closed, and brought him into the room next to it. She stayed in the doorway as he stepped inside to look around. The room that Riza had brought him to didn't have a whole lot in it or any unique features, but it was tidy and obviously well kept up. There was one window which was cracked open to let the summer breeze in. For furniture, there was a bed, a dresser, and a small desk.

"This will be your room and if you need anything, I'm just next door. Father sleeps downstairs next to the study. Since tomorrow is Sunday, you probably won't even see him until your first lesson on Monday. He will be expecting you ready by seven thirty and he does not take kindly to tardiness. Don't bother asking him anything outside of your lessons. He likes to be left alone if he can help it and he especially does not like to be interrupted while he is doing his research."

Roy looked back at her with a little surprise. Her tone wouldn't have indicated anything out of the ordinary, but the words in her last sentence stuck in his mind and couldn't help but wonder to himself.

'Is her father really so harsh that his own daughter sees him with such contempt? What kind of man is Berthold Hawkeye?'

"Riza-" he was about to voice his concerns but thought better of it. He reminded himself that both she and her father are still complete strangers to him, and whatever kind of relationship they had, it surely wasn't any of his business. He met her attentive gaze and set his suitcase beside the desk, "thank you," he ended simply.

If he hadn't been paying close attention, Roy would have missed seeing her eyes soften ever so slightly. The small tweak of a smile that she had shown earlier returned to her face. "Have you eaten, or are you hungry at all?"

Roy's stomach turned with displeasure as he thought back to the bland dinner that was served on the train consisting of a stale bread roll, questionable meat that was unidentifiable, and cold beans. Perhaps, against his better judgment, he had eaten the very off-putting meal with regret. "I'm not sure that you can classify what they have on the train as food, but even so, it quickly made me lose my appetite."

"I've heard that train dining can be, well, putting it lightly, undesirable," Riza laughed. Roy felt his heart stumble in its steady rhythm as the sound rang in his ears like the most beautiful bells chiming.

He chuckled in response. "Well, you've certainly heard right about that."

With a smile in her eyes, she added, "The kitchen is downstairs and pretty well stocked if you change your mind in the middle of the night. Otherwise, I usually make breakfast to be ready by around seven. Will you be up then or should I just wait and make something for you later?"

He kindly shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself but thank you."

Riza paused as she looked at him with uncertainty while one hand wandered up to fiddle with her earring. "Are you sure? It's really no trouble at all. I'm quite used to cooking for my father's students."

Roy noticed the slight change in her tone that made her sound hesitant and really emphasized how young she seemed, almost as if she was about to be scolded. Not sure how to reassure her, he smiled, "Yeah, of course, I wasn't exactly planning on being up that early tomorrow and I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything extra for me."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind then." She backed up a little further out of the doorway. "Is there anything else that I can get for you tonight, Mr. Mustang?"

Trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach, Roy swallowed, making him very aware of how dry his mouth felt. "Not at all. Thank you though."

"Okay, then. Goodnight." Riza took the doorknob to close it behind her.

"Goodnight."

Without another word, she closed the door, leaving Roy alone to take a seat on the bed with his thoughts not occupied with what his studies might entail, or even if Mr. Hawkeye would decide to teach him. Instead, they were drowning in the pools of the molten gold that were Riza's eyes.