"Damn it, where's my other boot?" Havoc cursed under his breath, stooping down to peer underneath the bed. But there was nothing there, not even dust bunnies. Riza kept her quarters in spic-and-span condition. Havoc stood up to do another visual sweep of the room, and caught sight of Riza opening the door of the bathroom, clad only in basic white bra and panties.
"Oh!" she said in surprise, automatically reaching up to cross her arms in front of her chest, as if Havoc hadn't seen her in her underwear last night. "I thought I heard you get up to leave." She glanced away, her ears burning red. In the daylight, in her sobriety, it seemed weird to have Havoc in her bedroom, putting on the clothes he had worn the night before.
"Yeah." Havoc's heart sank lower at Riza's hopefulness that he'd already gone. It seemed she really had no desire or intention of talking to him that morning. "I just need to find my other boot, and then I'll be out of your hair." Havoc tilted his head back towards the ground to not show Riza the disgruntled expression on his face.
"Oh, alright," Riza said helplessly, moving quickly to her closet and hastily throwing on a clean uniform, keeping her back turned to Havoc. But Havoc didn't bother to sneak a glance at her warm, lithe body wriggling into her work clothes, pulling her trousers up over her ample buttocks. Instead, he quickened his search, peering into every corner of the room. All he wanted at that point was to leave, as the air was growing thick with discontent.
"Is that it over there?" Riza offered, now fully clothed, pointing in the direction of the nightstand. There it was, wedged between the bed and the bedside table. It must have landed there in the hurried disrobing of the night before. He reached down and quickly grabbed his boot, sat down on the bed, and jammed it onto his foot. His fingers worked deftly as he hurried to lace up his boot.
Havoc stood up and flexed his back. It was sore from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. "Alright," Havoc began awkwardly. "I guess I'll see you at work." He raised his large, masculine hand in a half-hearted wave. Riza nodded eagerly, obviously pleased to see him go. Her eagerness to have him leave didn't miss Havoc's attention. Roy and his other coworkers liked to joke about him being more dense than not, but he could sure as hell tell when a woman wanted him out of her house and out of her mind altogether.
"Yeah, see you," Riza said, her voice jumping a bit. Riza looked up and met Havoc's icy blue eyes before looking down at her sleeve, pretending to have noticed a thread coming loose from the seam.
A flash of anger seared through Havoc's chest. He wanted to storm out, slam the door behind him. He wanted to grab Riza and kiss her hard, force her to feel what he felt for her. He wanted to grab her hands and ask why, why she couldn't feel the same way about him as she did about Roy.
He stomped to the door, but stopped short at the threshold. He turned back around slowly, and placed his hand on the splintering door frame. "Riza," he said, his voice coming out in a sharper tone that he had intended. She looked up into his face, her amber eyes wide and hesitant as they scanned his tense face.
"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light and conversational. Just go away, Havoc. Just go away.
"Was – was it that bad that you can't wait for me to leave?" he stammered, boring his eyes deep into Riza's, not allowing himself to blink.
Riza sighed, her chest heaving wearily. "No, Jean. It wasn't bad at all. But it shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake on my part." She kept her tone even and cool, as if explaining the process of long division or what makes the sky blue. Havoc shook his head in response, wrapping soundly on the door frame in frustration.
"Why are you so eager to write it off as a mistake? Why can't you let yourself even think about us actually being together?" Havoc cleared his throat, fighting off the hot feeling that was rising out of his chest.
"Because I don't feel the same way that you feel about me, Jean," she said, her eyes softening with pity. She had developed a hard exterior throughout her life, but it still broke her heart to see Havoc, a soldier, cowering like a vulnerable dog before her.
Havoc frowned, his brow furrowed with a simmering anger that threatened to burst out of him, a torrential flood. "How can you sound so certain when you say that? You chose to sit and drink with me. You chose to let me come home with you! You don't feel anything for me?"
Riza's face began to harden once again. "But if I'd had a choice, I'd have let someone else come home with me. Not you." She turned away suddenly and reached for her uniform jacket. In a small voice that barely rose over the rustle of the thick, canvas-like material, she added, "I'm sorry."
Havoc let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been keeping locked up in his chest. It was a surprising release, a release that weakened the tenseness in his muscles, relaxed his taut back. He took in another deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the hotness in his face beginning to subside a bit, like the tide finally rolling out to sea.
"You know that I really…feel strongly for you, right, Riza? That I've always felt this way about you…" he said, his voice trailing off. In the movies, scenes like this were always tragically romantic, but the words felt heavy and dumb in his mouth.
Riza closed her eyes tight, as if willing everything to go away. "I know," she replied, because it seemed like the right response. Sadly, she added, "But that just isn't enough."
Havoc turned slowly and made his way out into the biting winter air.