For him, this night was longer than most…

Moonlight leaked in through the small window, slipping into the cracks and crevices that lined the walls. The night was silent, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or thud of a rock on the night-frozen ground.

Her body was warm against him, but it was no comfort.

Eyes closed and breathing slow, he hid his inner turmoil.

He was afraid of what would become of them, of what would become of the world. She didn't know. If she had, she would have called him foolish.

Despite whatever comfort her naked body could provide, his mind always won out in the end.

What if? What if? What if?

What if the next day was his last, or Al's, or Fullmetal's, or -God forbid- hers.

Mentally, he shook himself. It was no help to think like that.

To think of world without her…

The night wore on. He tossed and turned, carefully so as not to wake her. He ran his hand over her back, fingers tracing the delicately destroyed lines of her tattoo. He sighed and sat and stood and thought and worried and…

She woke around 3, and looked at him with an expression of knowing pity.

"Get some sleep, Roy."

He tried, he really did. But for him, this night was longer than most.