Takes place whenever Roy goes to Riza's father as an apprentice. It's Riza's point of view of the intriguing young man that comes to spend a month with them.
I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and I do not own the song the title is from, Puddle of Mudd's "Psycho".
****Note: It has been a very long time since I've watched and read the series, I apologize if I anything seems out of place or out of character. (I'll explain Riza's hair in the fic, because the I understand the longness of her hair might seem incorrect at first). I just want to write a quick fic about the way a young Riza views a young Mustang. Thank you and I hope you enjoy.
If not, please just ignore this fic and forget it exists. Have a good day reader!****
Early morning. A gentle fog lays over the landscape. A young, teenage Riza lay in her bed, awake and a drowsy from her not so great sleep. She hardley ever slept well. Her long blonde hair flowed across her pillow. Her long, flowy tresses added a slight air of femininity to her. She was a tomboy in every sense of the word. She would rather hunt foxes and wear overalls than wear a dress or go to dances and wear make up.
She was a bit of a loner. Most of the girls her age worried about boys while she was worried about her aim when shooting her dad's old gun from his childhood. She was homeschooled by her father. That only added to her lonlieness. She tried to keep herself occupied, but deep in the back of her mind, she wanted no more than to have someone to talk to.
Her father was good to her, but he was a very closed off man. She wasen't close to him emotionally. She told herself it never bothered her, but many would agree that in the longterm it would probably effect her ability to form a relationship with a man. She disagreed.
It crossed her mind, but she still felt her independence from him made her a stronger and more emotionally independent woman.
The only real time she spent with him was when he taught her classes. They both kept themselves closed off emotionally from each other with their business like demeanor.
She lay in bed for while, aching from how dismal and lonely the room felt. She had this feeling everytime she woke up. A pain in her gut.
Not from sickness, but from a nervous feeling as she lay alone all night in that quiet house.
"The quiet helps me sleep better" she told herself.
She got herself up from her bed, begrudgingly, and peeked out into the kitchen. She would wait until her father went upstairs to his study before she went out to eat with him.
This was an unspoken rule of the household. While they never discussed it, they both felt awkward eating around eachother. There was absolutely nothing to talk about. They would both wait until the kitchen was empty.
It was. She lit the gas burner and grabbed a pan. She would have her usual- an egg, toast, jam, and coffee. It was the same everyday. Her father did not care to experiment much with food.
After breakfast, Riza made sure to put her hair up tightly in a bun. She would never ever let anyone see her with her hair down.
It made her feel vunerable. Vunerable and...feminine. To have anyone see her as a woman brought great discomfort. Part of it felt like an invitation to spread her legs. The rational side of her knew this was silly, many women wore their hair down. But nonetheless, she still never cut it short. When she was alone, she would let it down. She would run her hands through it and imagine herself in a different, less sheltered life. A life in which she felt comfortable wearing her hair down.
A knock on the door. Riza felt a pang of nervousness pound in the pit of her stomach. She hated socializing with anyone she never met. No doubt, on the other side of that door was a stranger.
She waited, hoping her father would come trotting down to greet the stranger. Amazingly enough, he did.
Riza ran to her room and peeked out from the corner.
At the door stood a young man, just a little older than her. He looked like maybe he could have been from Xing. She wasen't sure...his heritage looked unclear.
He had the blackest eyes and hair she had ever seen. His skin was luminous. His voice was deep and almost soothing with the polite manner he was projecting.
She felt herself blush as he smiled at her father. He seemed totally in awe of her dad.
"Who is this guy!?" She whispered to herself.
It appeared that this young man was planning to meet her father. Since she rarely conversed with her dad, how was she to prepare for this young man to show up on her doorstop.
"Who am I kidding?" she told herself. "This is a guy like any other stranger, I wouldn't have to act any different around him than I would anyone else". She shut her door and lay on her bed listening to their conversation. No way was she going out there.
"You will be staying in this room next to the kitchen" Her father said.
"What!?" Riza whispered alarmingly to herself. She shot her head up and heard them walk into the spare room right next to hers.
Her pulse started to go wild. She knew her dad wouldn't call her out to meet this guy, he never did with anyone. But if he was staying...even overnight, she was going to probably run into him one way or another.
She looked at herself in the mirror while she wrapped herself tightley in a blanket. She started playing scenarios of how awkward she would appear in front of him.
She was pretty sure she might start having a panic attack. She took a deep breath, and immediatley started to think the worse so that whatever down fall might happen, she'd be prepared.
"It's always good to not expect much out of life. Especially when you're a hermit." Riza thought to herself.
****That's all I have energy for right now. I'm working on another fan fic right now for Fruits Basket, but I will update this one regularly. Thanks for reading!*****