iv. in a castle dark
Rating: K+
Genre: Introspective quasi-angst, if that makes any sense
Notes: Vaguely mangaverse, but no spoilers. Rushed again, concrit is love c:
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There's a place he goes in his head sometimes where she can't follow. He has his scars and some of them are more than skin deep.
He has his scars and every time she sees him again he brings back more. Long, jagged lines torn across his chest, open puncture wounds, bites. Missing bits and pieces of himself left on his battlefields of city alleys and derelict buildings, and scattered in the gutters.
Winry longs to run her hands along Ed's scars, press her lips to his ruined skin. Stitch him back together with her touch alone.
But she can't.
So she gives him a leg to stand on and an arm to hold himself up, and he uses that leg to leave her and he uses that arm to push her away. He is so drowned by his own pain that he can't recognize the kindred pain in her.
He tells her, the next time he makes her cry, it'll be tears of happiness. She doesn't know if she entirely believes him. But still she holds onto the words like she holds onto him; like he can be saved.