7
He laid flowers on their grave. He had buried them together. If they were not meant to be together in this life maybe in the next. Love doesn't have to end when life does.
Maybe somewhere the three of them are together again. Happy at last.
If being human meant losing yourself to other people. Leaving part of yourself to every person you had loved, then being human meant being broken. Unable to become whole again. Fragmented beyond repair.
Our brokenness is what makes us human. Our imperfection makes us beautiful. Our pain makes us feel alive.
He smiled. He would turn fifty soon. He really was an old man.
"Take care of her for me." He whispered tracing her name etched on the grave stone.
Roy Mustang left then.
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Hay…its over…I wanted to make it a bit longer but i did say I wouldn't make it run too long…
Thank you for reading this, i hope it was time well spent...i enjoyed writing it immensely..
Maraming salamat po