Amoroso

AN: Don't kill me! I suddenly lost inspiration for this piece, I have no idea why. I had EVERYTHING planned out, but the urge to write it just died within me… hopefully, it's back in full force now!

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not, in any way, my property.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Sempre

"Winry… hey, Winry, you almost done in there?" Edward tapped the door to her bedroom with his metal knuckles, laughing softly to himself as he heard her swear and throw something at a wall. Winry's voice, when she replied, was an octave higher than usual.

"Yeah! Just… don't come in!"

Edward went in anyway, wanting to see the familiar look of exasperation on her face. Sure enough, Winry's eyes narrowed at the sight of him, and she looked thoroughly capable of seizing the nearest heavy object and lobbing it at him.

"You never listen, do you?" she groaned, turning her attention back to the task at hand. Her trunk sat on her bed, looking innocent enough in its cover of pseudo-leather – but Edward noticed that the two lips of the trunk weren't quite meeting. Winry pressed the upper lip down firmly, but although it came dangerously close to the bottom one, there wasn't enough time for her to lock it.

Edward made his way over to her bed, clambered on top and promptly sat down on the trunk. Winry squeaked in utter disbelief as Edward grinned at her cheekily.

"You should be able to close it now," he spoke, making sure that neither of his legs was blocking the latch of the trunk. Looking as if she was caught between amusement and anger, Winry hurriedly locked the trunk closed, before it could spring open once more. She heaved an enormous sigh of relief and sat down on the bed, right next to Edward and the trunk.

"Thanks," she spoke, yawning. "I couldn't take anything else out of it, and it was driving me mad! Granny's old trunks don't have a very reliable locking system, either, so I couldn't do it too quickly or it would open again." She offered him a smile, and Edward knew he was forgiven.

He looked around the room, intensely surprised at how small it appeared. When they had been little, it had been one of the biggest rooms he'd ever known – Winry, Al and he were constantly in and out of the room, playing raid on the castle or pirates. They'd often used Winry's bed – perfectly situated next to a wall and a window – as their ship, and had piled up pillows beside it when defending the fort. It made him sad to see how small the room really was.

It was neat and clean, as always. Winry was particular about the state of her surroundings, and while she didn't mind her workshop being a little messy, she'd always said she didn't lug herself up the stairs in order to throw herself down on a messy, cluttered bed.

"…you came up to tell me?" Winry looked at him expectantly, and Edward blinked.

"Uh… Granny says we'll leave in a couple of hours, since we still need to get your ticket and all. She's downstairs, entertaining someone right now – I think it's that old Mrs. Figget, although I can't be completely sure."

Winry tilted her head to one side and listened intently to the sound of laughter that drifted up the stairs. "Yup, it's her, all right. Always sounds like a braying donkey when she laughs."

Edward stared at the girl, the corners of his mouth twitching. Winry caught his expression and grinned widely.

"What? It's true!"

He chortled and slid off the bed, his feet hitting the wooden floor solidly. "That's not the only reason, though." He showed her his right hand, the fingers bent slightly awkwardly. "I was practicing downstairs, and the fingers suddenly slipped. I tried again, but the pressure was off, and the movements were sort of jerky."

Winry took his hand in her own and turned it over, examining the palm. She made a small 'tsk' noise from the back of her throat, and for once, Edward allowed himself to gaze at her unabashedly.

"Mmm, I see what you mean," she muttered, bending the fingers experimentally. "This is probably a result of all the detail work you've been doing while playing, Ed – it's my fault, I guess. I should've made sure your fingers were up to the task. Silly of me, not to have thought of that…"

"Well, I wasn't exactly playing the piano while searching for the Stone," Edward pointed out, feeling that her criticism of herself was unfair. "I wasn't using my fingers for such detailed, delicate stuff. It's fine. It can be fixed, right?"

"Of course!" Winry smiled at him. "Let me take you down to the workshop and fix that up." She got up from the bed and, still holding his arm by the wrist, led him downstairs. She made sure to pass the living room quietly, making a face at Edward as Mrs. Figget said something about the drapes. Edward suppressed the laughter that bubbled in his chest with great difficulty.

"Sit down," Winry gestured as they entered the workshop, heading towards the table and sifting through the tools there. "I might have to remake the fingers, but it won't take very long, I promise."

"No problem." Edward watched her move around the room, every motion sure and unhurried. She was at home in the workshop, far more so than in her own bedroom. He felt a pang at that – before hiding out in Resembool prior to the Promised Day, Winry hadn't slept in her own bedroom in a long time. Moving out of home was a natural part of life, he supposed, but it didn't stop him from feeling sad.

Winry swiftly disassembled his fingers as well as his thumbs and set to work building them again, using scraps of metal that she mysteriously conjured out of midair. She hadn't been lying when she'd said it wouldn't take long – before he knew it, Edward was watching her attach the fingers to his hand. Her head was bent, her fair hair falling across her face, and Edward was seized by an inexplicable urge to kiss her.

"Dammit." Winry looked put out. "Your fingers aren't moving – I must've messed up the wiring a little. Do you mind if I take the arm off? It'll only take a minute."

"Sure, no problem." Edward still winced at the attachment of the nerves, but it had become far less painful that it used to be. Winry detached his arms and took the hand off, messing around with the wiring and making a low humming noise.

"There!" she said after a few minutes, looking confident. "That should do it. Come here, Ed, let me put this back for you." As he moved towards her, she positioned the arm in the port and rechecked the placement, patting her hands over the smooth metal surface.

It was strange, Edward mused – part of him had always, always belonged to her. Although he used his arm and leg as if they were a part of himself – and they were – the truth was, Winry had made them, and they'd belonged to her first. Why had it taken him so long to realize… to realize that maybe, it wasn't just his two limbs that belonged to her?

As Winry moved to finally attach the nerves, Edward opened his mouth to speak. He was left speechless momentarily as Winry's hands moved faster than he'd expected them to – but as soon as the nerve connection had been established, he rolled his shoulder and turned to her.

"Winry." His voice was soft, and he knew she was puzzled at the shy gentleness in it. "I… um…"

For goodness' sake, Edward thought to himself furiously, he was sixteen and a half years old! He shouldn't be having this much trouble speaking to a girl!

"You…?" Winry prompted, still looking vaguely bemused. "If you want to thank me, Ed, that's fine – it goes without saying, after all, right?" She smiled up at him. "Don't worry about it."

"I… yeah, that was it," Edward muttered, hating himself for being so weak. "Thanks again, Winry. You… you're the only one who can ever put me back together again."

And he left her wondering at those words.

"I suppose I don't need to worry about you busting up your auto-mail, now that you're just working at home, right?" Winry asked, grinning at him. Edward smirked, shrugging his shoulders leisurely.

"Well, who knows… I might just run afoul of an angry cow or something…"

"Ed, you hate cows," Winry reminded him.

"Precisely. Maybe they hate me, too."

She laughed and hugged him. Edward returned the hug easily, naturally – at least he wasn't feeling awkward about that anymore. She let go of him and turned to hug Alphonse and Pinako as well, looking a little teary as she pulled away.

"You two! Come visit soon, okay?" she ordered the Elric brothers. They glanced at each other, exchanged a knowing look and saluted at the exact same time.

"Aye aye, ma'am!" they chorused. Winry laughed again and swatted at them playfully.

"Now, Winry, you should hurry up – the train will be leaving soon." Granny Pinako looked fondly at her only grandchild and shooed her onto the train. "Look after yourself, do you hear? I'm not hauling myself all the way to Rush Valley if you fall sick."

"Of course not, granny." Everyone present knew that the old woman would do just that.

"Well, I guess this is it," Winry spoke after she'd taken her seat and neatly stored her trunk above her head. Her smile was brilliant and didn't waver, as Edward had been half-afraid it would. "Bye, guys."

The train whistled a warning as Winry leaned out of her window and embraced Edward and Alphonse once more. As she released them, her lips brushed against Edward's cheek, and he turned a startling crimson.

Winry took one look at his face and erupted into laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. Edward was glad that that was the last sight he had of her – her eyes screwed shut in laughter, her cheeks bright and rosy, and her golden hair streaming in the wind.

As they watched the train disappear, Edward turned to Pinako.

"Hey, granny – I just wanted to make a phone call. Okay if I do that now?"

"Certainly." The old woman looked puzzled, but she didn't pry any further. Alphonse shot his brother a cautious look, but Edward shrugged it off.

"Relax, Al, I'm not going to do anything too dangerous," he grinned as he walked over to a counter and asked the man for the phone. The attendant handed it over without question, and Edward confidently rang up the number – he'd memorized it ages ago, although he hadn't expected using it for something like this.

"Hey, General. Yeah, yeah, it's a surprise for me, too… but I need a favour from you. Can you tell me the name and number of the best woodworker in Central?"

The journey to Rush Valley from Resembool took a few days, and Winry was mighty glad to be off the train once it pulled up at the auto-mail town. Train rides bored her to tears, especially if she was alone.

She spotted a familiar face in the crowd and waved, picking up her trunk and moving out of the car. "Master Garfiel!" she called, smiling from ear to ear. "Over here!"

"Ah, Winry, darling." Garfiel beamed. "I am so sorry about what I said over the phone… but goodness, my dear, I'm very glad to have you back!"

Winry's smile dimmed a little – she'd almost forgotten their phone conversation – but she shook her head in response to her master's apology. "That's okay, master Garfiel. It was partly my fault."

Garfiel did not respond. "Shall I take this for you, dear? It looks awfully heavy!" Garfiel tutted at the size of Winry's trunk. "Still, a girl must be prepared when she travels, hmm? Oh, all of your customers have been so worried about you…"

Winry smiled ruefully. She knew some of Garfiel's business must have dipped while she was away – although most of her customers really didn't mind the man so much, a few of them had probably downright refused to be treated by him.

"I can't wait to see them," she said happily as she walked alongside her master.

"Oh, and there was one more thing," Garfiel added. "Something arrived for you yesterday. The man who delivered it said it had been quite a rush order, and he hoped it was in good condition. Thankfully, he said, Central isn't too far from Rush Valley."

"Central?" Winry's interest was piqued. "Something came from Central for me? What is it?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Garfiel placed a finger on the side of his nose. "I won't tell you that. You'll see for yourself."

Winry blinked, startled at her master's insistence on secrecy. "All right…"

Garfiel's shop was not far from the station, and Winry took her trunk back from him as it came into view. She smiled gladly at the familiar sight – her fingers were itching to be back at work.

She left her trunk by the entrance of the house – she'd take it upstairs later – and turned to her master, an expectant look on her face.

"So… where is it?" she asked eagerly, her mind still trying to guess who would have sent her something from Central. General Mustang? Unlikely. Colonel Hawkeye? Maybe…

"It's in your workshop, dear." The man shook his head, looking a little disgruntled. "I did tell him to put it somewhere else, but he said he had strict orders and that he couldn't move it upstairs to your room, so…"

Winry's eyes widened. So then, it must have been something big… something big from Central, in her workshop… She moved across the landing towards her sanctuary, curiosity making her steps quicker than usual.

She opened the door slowly, holding her breath as it swung inwards. At first, nothing looked out of the ordinary, but then she turned her head to her right and saw it. Tears sprung to her eyes and her knees suddenly gave way.

"Winry!" Garfiel appeared at the door. "Winry, dear, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she sobbed, scrubbing vainly at her cheeks. "I'm… I'm…"

It was a magnificent mahogany upright piano, its every surface polished to gleaming perfection. She got to her feet and moved towards it, her fingers trembling slightly as she drew the cloth cover off to reveal the ivory keys. She pressed her hands to her mouth as she started to cry again, shocked and pleased at the same time.

"I think there's something engraved here," Garfiel commented, trying not to smile at Winry's outburst of emotion. He was glad that she was happy – but honestly, tears…?

He pointed to the portion of glossy wood just above the keys, where the manufacturer's name was usually displayed in elegant golden script. Winry rubbed the dampness off her face and leaned forward for a closer look.

There, in the dark brown wood of the piano, were carved exactly five words.

Winry – I love you.

Ed.

AN: Ed's such a coward… can't say it to the girl herself, huh, Ed! x) I'm guessing Central is closer to Rush Valley than Resembool, and if it isn't… it was magic! Ta-da! Ha ha.

Chapter title means always. This is the last chapter – there's only the epilogue left.