I love your rough edges

and soft parts that bleed.

The ruins of your soul

are poetry to me.

- Anita Krizzan


The warmth of his body eased me into consciousness and kept me feeling safe. I shivered a little and shrank deeper in bed to feel his chest flush against my back, his radiating warmth comforting me. The past three months had spread me thinner than I realized, and I had forgotten how Ed's presence could be a roller coaster of emotion. I had gone from worried and suspicious, to lonely and depressed, to heartbroken and betrayed before he returned home and spun me right back into loving him more than anything all over again. When I came back to Central I was sleep-deprived, stressed out, and still angry with him. I'd expected him to try to slay me with his gorgeous smile and those wolf eyes; his favorite way to avoid confrontation with me was by peeling my clothes off and throwing me down on the bed, couch, kitchen island, etc. In a million years I never expected him to propose to me, at least not now. We never talked about it, he never mentioned the idea of marriage. We just went about our lives day by day because our relationship was so unusual, we didn't plan for the future like normal couples. We never talked about weddings, children, nothing. We were more in-the-moment, so when he kneeled and presented me with a ring my breathing stopped, my head swam, and I blacked out.

I wasn't sure what time it was, but when I opened my eyes and blinked to adjust to the darkness the memories of what had happened flooded back. Was he just being in-the-moment? I loved Ed's spontaneity, but my gut reaction of over-whelming happiness was immediately clobbered by the realization that he was only proposing to shut me up and make me happy. It was like dysfunctional couples who are foolish enough to believe having children will stop their fighting and fix their problems. Covering up your issues doesn't mean they aren't there, and they'll lay dormant before suddenly erupting one day out of nowhere and causing irreparable damage. I shifted to get more comfortable, and felt him stir behind me as a warm arm slid around and he pulled me against him.

"Are you awake?" I whispered. I heard no response besides a low groan and his strong arm curled around me tighter. I listened to the sound of his steady breathing before shifting again to turn myself and face him. His eyes were closed, but he was cognizant with his metal arm tucked up under his pillow. I reached up and with a barely there touch I traced the little scars that slashed across his shoulders and neck, before settling on one that cut through his eyebrow. I secretly loved it, the way it added to his rugged appearance. Such a tough guy, yet so sensitive about scars that in my eyes only added to his beauty for the life story they told. I felt his hand press the small of my back, pressing me closer as my fingers laced through his long hair. Even though we had unresolved issues, just being with him in comfortable silence made me feel like everything was fine. No matter what happened, we'd be okay. I felt a peace and comfort I hadn't had since before losing my parents, and as a tear fell slowly I realized that I really wanted to spend my life with him. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to marry Edward.

I wasn't sure if it was my uneven breathing or my little sniffle, but he must've noticed in his semi-concious state that I was crying, because his eyes slid open slowly and remained hooded and sleepy-looking as he gazed back at me. He furrowed a brow, silently questioning my quiet tears as I swiped at my eyes and bit my lip nervously. I didn't know what to say, how to start, I didn't even have a complete memory of how I'd gotten into bed. He let out a tired sigh through his nose and finally spoke.

"What now?" He asked softly. I shook my head dismissively as though I were fine, and he sent me a skeptical look in the darkness. "First you pass out," he murmured. "Now you're crying." He laced his fingers through my hair and stroked my scalp lovingly as he pulled me to him and I folded into his arms. His skin was hot like always, and baby smooth in the spaces between the scars. I loved that he let me trace them with my fingertips. He used to hate it, but when he realized it had somehow become almost therapeutic for me to focus my attention with such detail and carefully run my fingers over the marred flesh, it in turn became like therapy for him and he'd become far less concerned about his scars. You could almost say he liked them now, or at least they'd finally served a greater purpose than the painful lessons they taught. After a few minutes of me gliding my fingers along the little lines on his back, I felt him shift to look down at me as I kept my face buried in his chest. The soft thumping of his heart was possibly what I missed the most while he was gone, or the deep rumble from his chest as he spoke low and soft to me when we'd make love, or the way everything felt better just knowing he was next to me. After I started medical testing for the military, he was the first person to truly help me feel that I wasn't alone. Having him in my home made me feel more at ease than I ever had, and moving in to his apartment made me happy and comfortable even when he wasn't around.

The last three months had been a nightmare because I was terrified of losing him not only to his usual enemies, but to a far less conspicuous adversary who came dressed as something so many men desired. My little tracings stopped when a thought crossed my mind. If I lost Edward to a mission -God forbid- I would at least be able to attach some sense to it. If he slipped through my grasp because of another woman, I would spend the rest of my life crushed under the weight of the same question: Why? Why on Earth would I lose him to another woman because of her beauty when I was uncommonly beautiful myself? Why would he want another woman's quirks if he'd already taken the time to learn and understand mine? Why would he leave me for someone who could take care of themselves when it's in his nature to be a protector? It was simple. He wouldn't. Dr. Marcoh was right; Edward would never stop being my protector because it's what he's needed in his life all along. It's the reason he became a State Alchemist. He needed to serve a purpose greater than destruction. He wanted to be a force for good, and protecting me from the destructive parts of his life fed the positive side of him. I was so stupid to ever think we were wrong for each other; I needed someone to make me feel safe and whole and not alone, and he needed someone to protect and cherish and give him a reason to come home. When we met, we were both lonely. We were both miserable and not admitting it to ourselves. He made me brave, I made him good, and together we made each other better people. No one on earth could be a better fit for either of us.

"Ask me again." I whispered. He stilled for a moment before pulling back to look at me curiously.

"I didn't get to ask you the first time. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before I could get a word out." This earned genuine grins from both of us and he laced his fingers with mine. "I'm not gonna ask you again tonight. I've had enough excitement."

I found myself pouting, and moved a small strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes. "You didn't buy that ring today did you? I don't want you marrying me just because of this week." His eyes seemed to flicker with mirth when he said,

"I bought that ring 6 months ago. I wanted to ask you then, but I got my orders not long after and it just didn't feel like the right time." My mouth fell open in shock. I really had worried for nothing. Fucking NOTHING. He seemed to be able to read my mind and he laughed.

"I've told you a thousand times, Win. You're my girl." He kissed me chastely before adding, "I'm sorry for everything."

"Is this why you were being so tight-lipped and sneaky before you left?"

"Partially." He responded. "I was trying to decide if I should ask you before leaving, but it never felt right because you found out about Major Lust and then everything kind of… imploded."

"Why did you try to hide her from me? That's really what started all this. I wouldn't have become suspicious if you weren't sneaking around." I said. He gathered me into his arms again and sighed.

"I was only trying to prevent ALL of this. I knew I'd been quiet and it was worrying you, and I couldn't tell you much about the mission at first, so I knew if you saw Lust you'd probably freak out and I didn't want to make things worse for you. It all blew up in my face. I'm really sorry babe." I latched my arms around him supportively, letting him know that I was okay now, and I decided to give it another shot. I pulled back and gazed up at him.

"Ask me again. Please."

His golden eyes danced back and forth across mine and his breath caught for a moment before he relaxed and gave a small shake of his head.

"No. Not now. I'm actually kind of glad you passed out earlier, because that wasn't how I wanted to ask you anyway." He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders and hunkered down as I turned with my back against his warm chest and he curled his arm around me so we could sleep again.

"So when are you gonna ask me then?" I said.

"I'm not sure." He said, "But I'll say one thing, when it comes, it's gonna knock you on your ass, Rockbell."

I got the best sleep I'd had in months.


Ten of the meanest mugs I'd ever squared off with were glaring at me at once, and for the first time in my life I couldn't be happier about it. They were confused as fuck, and I was was sitting pretty at the head of a long conference table with a scotch in my hand and a smirk on my face. I had been trying to plan this little get-together for months, but my little trip to the sandbox had derailed it until now. It took an awful lot of careful negotiating and insistent white-flag waving on our part to get ten high-power criminals to meet with the military, but Mustang had more than once proved himself capable of weaving miracles and it brought us to a dark lounge located deep in the underbelly of a Russian night club on the Lower East Side. Exposed brick walls were painted vermilion and the floors and ceilings were black. Lighting was low, corners were dark, the only background noise being the low thumping from the club above ground. I had watched from the shadows as our guests slowly arrived, entering the private room looking alert, suspicious, and irritated. Some of them knew each other and were friendly, others not as much, but Roy was in the room and informed them to take their seats at the long mahogany table as wait staff began pouring drinks. When I finally emerged their faces lit with alarm and they all instinctively reached for their guns and aimed them in my direction, but I laughed and adjusted the cuff of my right sleeve casually.

"Gentlemen please, there's no need for any fighting tonight. This is strictly business, and I'm not here to cause problems. Can we put the guns away please?"

"You expect us to trust you?" Said the gruff voice of Issac Macdougal, a mob king operating out of Moscow. He became known as The Freezer for his calling card: leaving his victims frozen in a block of ice. "You've made life very difficult for everyone here. Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

He had a fair point well made. I had meddled in all their affairs more than once, but never shut any of them down completely because they weren't considered a matter of national security and after dealing with international terrorists all the time I frankly didn't have time or patience for mobsters. The only reason I was entertaining these clowns with expensive liquor and Kobe beef was because I wanted something.

"Honestly Issac, I mean no harm tonight. You all know what I'm capable of," I said, addressing the room. "If I was luring you here to kill you, you'd all be dead by now. Put the guns away. Tonight we'll all have a civil gathering like men, because I need a favor." This earned some incredulous laughter and Issac took his seat along side the other scumbags as the wait staff started clipping cigars and I tried to ignore the eye rolling from the felons would couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"Why would any of us do you a favor?" Asked a man not much younger than myself. He was tall like me, had blonde hair like me, and for a short period of time was going around criminal circles trying to pass himself off as me so he could strong-arm his drug buyers into purchasing at triple the rate. I'd had my fun with illegal substances in the past, but I never dealed drugs to anyone ever. I may have been a messed up kid, but I had fucking morals and all it took was a couple broken knee-caps and a call to the local authorities to convince Russell to stop parading as the Fullmetal Alchemist. Russ was looking well, it had been 8 years since I'd exposed him and started keeping a permanent watchful eye on his operations. Did I like that I was letting drug dealings happen in the U.S.? No, but it wasn't like Russell was the only drug lord in the country and as long as his dealings stayed quiet, out of the tri-state and were only to legal adults, I wasn't going to waste much time with him. He wasn't a threat to National Security, so he wasn't my problem after I convinced him to stop using my name. But I made sure he understood that if I ever caught wind of him using minors for dealing, I'd put a bullet in his head. He didn't like me very much.

"Russ," I said calmly as I sipped my scotch and took as seat at the head of the table. "It would be in all of your best interests to hear me out and do exactly what I ask. Everyone will live much easier lives this way, trust me." He eyed me suspiciously and glanced around at a few of the others as Gus Carlitano entered the room. His face paled considerably upon seeing me and I rose from my seat with a genuine smile and moved to greet him.

"Gus! So glad you could make it." I said earnestly with a firm handshake. He looked bewildered and confused as I motioned him to take a seat and had a glass set in front of him as the server poured his drink of choice.

"Has my son done something?" He asked me warily. I quickly shook my head in reassurance.

"Not at all. He's become nothing but a bad memory, and I appreciate your continued cooperation in that matter."

"Why are we here?!" Issac the Freezer exclaimed impatiently. "Get to the point Fullmetal, I'm losing my patience." A series of curt nods followed from the other faces in the room, and I decided to stop stalling.

"Very well. Thank you all for coming. I won't keep you long, but feel free to indulge as much as you like. The bill is on me."

"We figured." Russell said. "What favor could you possibly need from any of us? I have a hard time believing you could be strapped for cash, and if the rumors are true, you definitely don't need my help finding quality narcotics. Don't tell me you need help with having someone whacked." I smiled and shook my head.

"You're right. I don't need cash, and I always managed to find my own drugs back when I still indulged." A few sets of eyebrows raised fractionally at the discovery that the rumors were true and I was, in fact, not a bastion of saintly goodness. "And make no mistake, gentlemen. I'll never need anyone else to do my dirty work for me." I said, casting a brief but serious look over the room. "Like I said, I'm not looking to stir up trouble. I'm looking to keep the peace, like I always am. Only this time, I'm asking nicely."

Ten sets of eyes blinked back at me, waiting for me to start making sense. I opened the cream manila folder that lay on the table in front of me and took a second to pour my eyes over the 8 x 10 image inside, reminding myself that as crazy as this all was, it was the right thing to do. I pulled out the photo and held it up.

"I'm going to pass around this photo for you all to see. Burn this image into your memories, because none of you will be receiving a copy and none of you will ever see this photo or any others like it ever again." I forced myself to hand the photo to my left, and as it slowly made its way down one side of the table and up the other side to return to me, I noticed the looks on their faces. The glazed over eyes. The slackened jaws. The way some of them loosened a button on their shirt collar or made eye contact with their neighbor in a mutual expression of impressed disbelief. I could feel the comments coming, and as the photo slid back over the table to rest in front of me again a small part of me became nauseous knowing that some of the sickest fucks I'd had the misfortune of dealing with on a semi-average basis now knew the secret to my complete undoing.

"If any of you encounter this woman, if you see her, if any of your acquaintances see her, it would be wise to go the other way immediately. Don't approach her, don't speak to her, don't make eye contact with her. If she crosses your path, walk away." I forewarned.

"Not a chance, Elric." Russell commented boisterously. "That's a fine piece of ass, you can drop her on my doorstep any day." Some hoots and wolf whistles followed as the photo was pulled away from its spot on the table in front of me and was being passed around again like the latest issue of Hustler in a high-school boy's locker room. The only person who seemed as unamused as I was Gus Carlitano, whose grave look was clear evidence of him reliving the memories of me teaching his son an important lesson about respect and boundaries. I knocked back the rest of my scotch to steel my growing irritation.

"Focus people." I barked impatiently as I slammed my empty glass down on the table immediately bringing the attention back on myself. "I'm telling you all to steer clear of the woman in this photo. Do what I say, and we won't have any problems. It's very simple." Just then Issac Macdougal took a puff on his cigar and laughed at me.

"Why should I take advice from the man who orders scotch in a Russian bar?" I moved around the table to retrieve the photo and slide it back into it's folder as I slid my eyes toward Issac.

"Because your peace-of-mind depends on it, and vodka makes me very mean." Everyone in the room had previously experienced just how much of a dick I could really be; they were smart to stay calm and not compromise their safety by getting me worked up.

"What's with the girl?" Someone else asked. "Who is she?"

"Don't worry about it." I said, getting mildly heated but reminding myself to remain calm.

"Why should we stay away from her?" Another voice asked. Here it was, the moment of no return, and I took a breath before saying,

"Because the woman in this photo is strictly off limits. Anyone who approaches her will find themselves number one on my priority list."

I was met with dumbfounded stares, which I was suspecting. My gaze briefly connected with Roy, who stood in the shadows at the back of the room largely ignored by our disgruntled guests. This meeting was proving itself more difficult for me than I originally thought it would be. It was hard enough showing them all the photo of Winry I'd snapped from a distance without her knowledge as she crossed 44th street on her way to the library, with the sun in her windblown hair and her long legs in full stride as her sundress whipped around her hips. She was a breathtaking as ever, and now some of the worst lowlifes imaginable had drank in the image of her and I could only pray that I'd made them fear me enough in the past to ensure her safety for the future.

"You all have people in your lives that are protected from the harsh realities of your business, and I'm no different." I elaborated as I returned to my seat and lit a cigarette. I was far beyond stressed out.

"What makes her so special?" Asked the Freezer. I pulled on my cigarette and ashed in the tray beside me.

"She's a government employee, and extremely valuable. She's not a soldier, she's not an assassin, she poses no threat to any of you in any way. All I'm asking is if you see her, leave her alone."

"This seems personal. You hitting that?" He said. I suddenly found myself incredibly annoyed.

"I'm marrying that." I snapped. You could've heard a pin drop as they all gaped at me. I stood and poured myself another scotch before slowly walking around the room as I addressed them all.

"I know what you're all thinking. Bullshit right? Fullmetal would never get tied down."

"You're a goddamn animal." Russell interrupted. "I heard you've thrown people off the tops of buildings. Fuck, you tied one of my dealers to a fire escape and left twelve hypodermic needles sticking out of his stomach. There's also a rumor you killed the Secretary of Defense." I couldn't stop my smirk as I thought back to my late teens when I was especially wild and hadn't started working exclusively in counter-terrorism units yet. My main focus then was eliminating drug and organized crime rings, and being hopped up on a fair amount cocaine myself, I had a tendency to be a bit mid-evil when dealing with lowlifes. "The shit you've done?" He continued incredulously. "You really expect us to believe some bitch would hitch herself to you? Why are we here?! What the fuck do you want?!"

"I told you. I want you all to consider this woman 'off limits'. She knows nothing about what I really do, and has no idea who any of you are. I may be a 'goddamn animal', but I've never approached your brother Fletcher, or harmed Doreen Carlitano, I've never been within a mile range of Issac's daughter, and I've never even seen the rest of your old ladies." I said to the room. "That's right, you're all a bunch of animals too and I know you're all married so don't act like it's such a fucking shock for me. I operate the same way you do. Your women don't know about the people you kill in the name of your pride or the almighty dollar, and my girl doesn't know about the people I kill for the sake of protecting the United States. We keep our fucked-up world to ourselves and we don't drag in those not involved. Anytime you guys do, I come knocking. So if you want to see less of me, don't approach the woman in the photo. Gus Carlitano learned this the hard way." I said, my eyes connecting with Gus who's gaze was down-turned at the table. He knew what would happen if Pitt ever came near Winry again.

"And what if I don't give a fuck?" Basque Grande asked with a sick lick of his lips. Basque Grande was a gun runner who controlled most of the underground weapons distribution on the east coast. Local authorities had never been able to arrest him because of lack of evidence, and it wasn't until his right hand was caught in a sting operation attempting to sell weapons to Al Queda supporters living stateside that I was finally brought in to shut down his operation. When I finally tracked him down in a seedy motel in Atlantic City, the screaming woman in his room added rape to his wrap sheet but he made a plea deal with the city and was out of jail within 5 years for ratting out some of his suppliers. "What if I decide I wanna pay her a friendly visit?" He said. The room went silent again as the tension spiked, and I threw down my drink and my cigarette to stride over to him before lashing out and seizing his throat in a steel vice grip.

"Let me be clear." I growled as he tried frantically to pry my metal hand from his throat. "Stay away from Winry Rockbell. I'll be watching all of you, and if I catch any of you going anywhere near her, I'll kill you." I let him go and he coughed as sputtered before leveling a gun at me. I stood my ground and glared at him.

"Don't push your luck, Basque. I've already got enough problems keeping my fiancée out of harms way, don't go stirring the pot and adding your name to my list of people to reduce to a bloody pulp. That goes for everyone here."


The apartment was dark when I returned home around 3am, and I pulled the black tie from my neck before popping the button on my collar and removing my jacket after. I was exhausted and stressed as I moved to the walk in closet to remove the rest of my black-on-black suit and pull on some sweats, and contemplated sleeping on the couch just incase I PTSD'd all over the place and had a night terror. I always worried about sleeping next to Winry for the possibility that I may lash out in my sleep and hurt her, and after the evening I'd had I decided I wasn't messing around and I moved to the bedroom to grab my pillow and retire to the sofa. I paused for a moment to watch her sleeping and brushed my lips over her brow before turning to leave, but was stopped when I felt myself being pulled back. Her hand was on my artificial wrist and her sleepy eyes were worried.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"Working late. You don't wanna know."

"Are you not staying here?" She asked as her eyes fell to the pillow tucked under my arm.

"It's been a difficult night. I'm gonna crash in the living room just to be safe. Go back to sleep." I squeezed her hand reassuringly and kissed her before leaving and shut the door behind me. I tried to tread softly to reduce the noise my metal foot made on wooden floors as I moved to the great room's sitting area and chucked my pillow on the couch. I was too amped up. My mind was drained but my body was anxious and I knew if I didn't burn off some of the energy I'd pass out only to wake up screaming and gripping the couch cushions, so I dropped to the rug and started doing pushups as my mind wandered.

I'd left the underground club with Roy at 2 am after pleading my case to a bunch of psychotic criminals and then threatening to slaughter them all if they didn't follow my orders, the evening had gone far better than I'd expected, but it took a toll on me mentally and I was intensely weighing my options for a future with Winry. It had been 4 weeks since the proposal that left her unconscious in my arms, and I hadn't made any mention of marriage since. I asked her at the time because I was desperately trying to convince her that I didn't want anyone else in my life, and while that remained true, I still wasn't sure that marriage was a great idea. I had affairs to get in order and treacherous soldiers to see court-marshaled and mobsters to threaten before I could even consider getting myself in the frame of mind for committing myself to a life partner. It was fucking bizarre to me. I never believed I'd ever be in such a position. I still couldn't believe I'd bought a ring. I knew that Winry deserved a better life than the one I offered. She deserved to be with someone who wasn't flying out for months at a time, she deserved a life that didn't require Krav Maga training or target practice. She deserved to live in a home that didn't need a fully-stocked gun safe or the panic room I was planning to install. Even if I handed in my pocket watch and my gun tomorrow it wouldn't stop my enemies from wanting my blood, and they would use any means necessary to get it. Winry was a magnet for danger because of her misunderstood blood disorder and her unparalleled beauty, and if anyone with a sick mind crossed her path she was done for.

The only thing I offered her was protection, but I had to wonder if I was only bringing more trouble to the table. Mustang made an excellent point that making local scumbags aware of her importance to me would better protect her for the time-being, but that was only if they feared me enough to stay away from her. As the medical department at Central made advancements using her blood, she would eventually be revealed to the world as the person responsible for vaccinations we never thought we'd see in our lifetime. The thought of having that kind of spotlight shone on her was something I knew made her nervous, and I would never be confident or comfortable leaving her in anyone else's charge during a time when the world would know her name. As I crawled onto the sofa to finally rest for the night, I realized that it was stupid for me to even have this internal battle because I would never stop looking after her even if we weren't together anymore. It made no sense for us to break off our relationship because we'd both wind up miserable as a result. I closed my eyes, thought of her, and decided to stop arguing with myself. I loved Winry. I would never stop loving her. I would never stop protecting her. She had somehow found it in her to love me despite all my crazy, terrifying baggage and I simply couldn't see either of us functioning well without eachother. I was a mess, she was a mess. Together, we were one big happy mess. I liked the idea.


I awoke to the sound of her humming in the kitchen. The air smelled like bacon and coffee, the lights were bright, and she sang happily to herself as she whisked what I could only suspect was pancake batter. I sat up on the couch and let my chin rest in my hand as I watched the way her hips swayed as she hummed. It was then that I noticed her macbook on the counter playing Queen at a low volume and I rose from my spot on the couch to cross the room and slide into a chair at the island. She spun around happily and winked at me as she kept whisking.

"Hope you're hungry." She said, pouring out pools of batter on the hot pan. I nodded as I leaned on my forearms to gaze at her, and felt a surge in my chest. This was what we both needed. This was the key to everything. I couldn't stop my grin as she set a mug of coffee in front of me.

"What?" She asked, clearly confused by the ridiculous grin I was sporting. I pushed myself back and stood, taking the bowl of batter from her and setting it on the island beside me.

"Marry me." I said. Her mouth dropped open and her brow furrowed.

"Are you crazy? Did something happen last night? Did you get drunk? Are you still drunk now?"

"Not even a little." I said.

"You completely stopped talking about marriage. I figured it was off the table." She said with folded arms. I shook my head.

"It needed to be the right time. I woke up, saw you in here… and you're just amazing." She eyed me like I was nuts.

"It's just breakfast." She replied. I grinned again and took her hand, and reveled watching her face change from confusion to stunned shock as I sank to my knee and she realized I was serious.

"I want this. I want us, making breakfast, drinking coffee, everyday. You give me the one thing no one else ever has. Normalcy. You're the only thing in my life with any consistency. You keep me grounded. You make me feel human again. I would die for you, I would die without you. I never cared about my life before I met you. I was living for Riza and for Roy, but I never held value in my own life. Being with you everyday makes me want to live for me for the first time ever, because now I know what real happiness is. It's being here. Eating breakfast. With you." I felt my chest tighten as though it might burst from elated joy when I saw her beaming with tears in her eyes.

"I love you. I want this ordinary, normal, amazing life with you everyday. Winry …will you marry me?" It was in that moment that I realized the ring was buried under papers in my nightstand drawer, but that clearly didn't matter to her because she smiled wider that I'd ever seen and fell into my arms laughing happily. She whispered yes, I pulled her to the floor and kissed her, and we burned the pancakes.


A/N: This was a very difficult chapter to construct so I'm sorry it took so long. It honestly took me forever to decide how Ed was going to do this, because it's not like him to make grand, romantic gestures and he's not very good at it (as we've seen at the end of FAMB). He's a man's man in every sense of the term, so I couldn't write him being all flowers and candles and sonnets when he's such a direct and serious person. I really hope you all liked it, and thank you all so much for reading a reviewing. Your reviews are always the best part of my day. Epilogue is coming very soon.