"Who are you to tell me how to live my life?" Riza yelled, her arms close to her sides. She was so angry but so damn beautiful. Roy had to fight the urge to smile.
"I'm telling you that man is not worth your time," he was talking about the snobby blonde that Riza had been seeing for a few months now. Pierre, was his name. Roy had learned it after dozens of flowers had been sent to their shared dwelling, all with cards that had lullabies and stupid rhymes written on them with the disgusting script of his name scrawled below. He had hoped to woo Riza it seemed. But Roy could see through the man's act – for, he had played that game once. Pierre – no matter how genuine he seemed – was not in it for the heart of his once-subordinate, no, he wanted much more than that. And only that.
"How do you possibly know that?" Riza asked in a shout. "He's been nothing but kind to me. In fact, he's been quite a gentleman."
"Has he grabbed your ass yet?" His voice was a deadpan, monotone and serious.
Riza looked instantly taken back.
"A-as if that's ANY of YOUR business!" she said with nearly a stomp, clearly looking around the room for something to throw.
"Oh, that means he has," Roy said with a nod, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the blonde from his place at the doorway, where he stood with one shoulder against the frame. He wasn't going to let her leave. Not dressed like she was. She looked way too good in that black number, with the pronounced neckline and length that barely reached a quarter way down her thigh. It fit to her curvaceous body like a glove.
No, some man named Pierre didn't deserve to gaze upon such beauty.
"I'm leaving now," Riza announced, barreling for the door.
"If you go to him looking like that, he's going to only want that," he gestured to the woman as she walked toward him, high-heels clicking against the floor.
"Roy, this is absolutely none of your business, get out of my way," she said, clearly even more annoyed with him.
"I'm just trying to tell that he's up to no good. No man sends THAT amount of flowers with an intention to just hold your hand." He didn't move from the door. Instead, he stood up straight in it, nearly taking up the entire frame. Riza stopped just in front of him, barely an arm length away. He saw her nostrils flare as she took a deep breath, seemingly steadying herself.
"What if that's what I want, Roy?" she asked, very quietly. "What if I want to be…" she trailed off, "wanted? Is that such a terrible thing to desire?"
Oh, Roy had to take a breath to steady himself now, if only he had the courage to tell her. Tell her just how much she was wanted, just how much she was needed. It had been many a moon since that first time he gazed upon her sleeping and he felt that stirring in his heart and he knew his time was ticking. He had been with her for so many years, surely she did not feel the same way about him. Not anymore at least. There was probably a time in which Riza Hawkeye had an eye for him, but how could she now? After all she had seen, had experienced with him? It was utterly hopeless.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.
Suddenly feeling very courageous, Roy reached between them, taking the curve of Riza's face in his hands. Her eyes flew wide just as he closed his and removed that space between their faces, between their bodies, and what he hoped would be their hearts.
His lips were gentle against hers, pressing as soft and kind as the love he felt in his heart. He hoped in that moment that she could feel that, that she knew his tenderness, and she understood what words he could not say. Not yet. It had to be perfect. She deserved perfect.
His hopes were dashed when suddenly he felt the hard palm on his cheek, stinging his skin and knocking his mouth from hers. She instantly retreated from him, at least two arm lengths, her chest heaving and her face so flushed it looked as though the sun had burnt her.
"You bastard," she hissed, pointing a finger at him and jarring it as she spoke. "Don't you dare do this to me if you don't mean it, if you don't really really mean it because," she swallowed hard, wide-eyed and nearly frantic in speech, "I have a really nice guy waiting for me at the coffee house, someone who cares about me and wants me. Wants me, Roy. Not a body, but me. I will not become a notch on your bedpost. I will not go around nursing a broken heart like all your fan girls do. I will not allow you to do that to me. So don't you dare touch me again unless you really want me."
Her voice was trembling when she spoke her final sentence.
"If you're lonely, find someone else and let me be happy."
She had every right to be worried, he thought, he was after all infamous Roy Mustang – womanizer of all Artemis. Although he had not had another in the time they had spent together in the last six months, bunked in this dirty hotel room, waiting for orders from military higher up's it was not in Riza's nature to forget. Hell, she had first handedly watched many of his seductions. No wonder she thought that he was just trying to get her into bed with him. No wonder she didn't trust him with her heart.
But she had left it opened ended – not all hope was lost yet. For, she had said for him to not touch her if he didn't mean it – but if he did, then, well, it was implied he could. Hope brightened in his chest in a way that he had never felt before. She hadn't shunned him.
She had given him one choice.
And he boldly took it.
Later that night, when she had changed into pajamas and her lips were swollen from the feverish passion of Roy's mouth, she laid in his arms for the first time. Their legs were intertwined and she curled to his chest with a content sigh.
Things were not perfect, there were still dozens of flowers to throw away in the morning, but Roy, for the first time in many years – was happy.
