Edward's first instinct in the morning is to stretch upon awakening. Today, as he awoke, he found his limbs to be tied up. He blinked his eyes open to find his automail fingers laced with Winry's fingers. His left arm found its way around Winry's shoulder during the night.

The most delightfully terrifying part of it all to Ed, though, was realizing his face was inches away from a still unconscious Winry. Her lips might have touched his chin if he hiccupped. Ed never in his life desired hiccups until that moment.

Just as he had begun adjusting to the view, the view woke up. He could feel that she too was trying to stretch. She paused when a look of epiphany appeared on her face. She looked into Ed's excruciatingly close gaze. The pink on Winry's face mirrored the young alchemist's.

Winry then accomplished something that surprised the both of them—she moved closer. She laid her head on Ed's chest. Ed felt as though every breath was under scrutiny. He hoped she couldn't feel him tremble under her hair. Winry let out a small sigh, which caused Ed to try his best to relax and drink in the moment.

They retained this pose for a while. They did not stir for another half hour, not until called to the breakfast table. Only then did Edward notice the electricity returned. They both rose from the bed, each undoubtedly thinking of sleep.