Hair
Winry's fingers are nimble, working through a tangle in his hair with an ease that Edward is jealous of. He usually just yanked it out with a comb and a death wish, but Winry insisted upon fixing it herself this time.
"You know, you should try putting your hair up in a ponytail more often. It would be a bit faster." Winry murmurs as she runs the comb through his hair. He thinks of Hohenheim. Last time he put it up like that, Pinako had told him that he was the spitting image of his father. Needless to say, he'd avoided it since. A silence falls as she begins to separate his hair, and Ed closes his eyes as she gently pulls it back into a braid.
He wonders if it would look different now. She was right, it would be easier than braiding it.
After a moment, he hums back absentmindedly. "Maybe."
Winry ties off the braid with a rubber band she has on her wrist, snapping the black tie around his gold hair before dropping her hands to her lap. "Done. You're free to go."
He reaches back to touch it, running his fingers down the length of the neat braid. Much neater than the messy two-minute number he usually does on himself. Ed turns around to look at her over the back of the chair, resting his chin on his arm. "You always do that so much better than I do." He mumbles, watching Winry drag her chair back to the dining room table.
Winry laughs and grabs the comb and a handful of hairbands from the table. "Feminine charm, I suppose."
He scoffs. "Not much is feminine about you, gear-head."
Ed barely has time to duck before the the comb comes hurdling back.
