"Hair"
It was so pretty, so silky. It was like threaded gold, almost; it shimmered in the sun in just the right way, and it framed his face just so to where it almost begged to be played with, to have his fingers run through it again and again until that feeling was burned deep within his tactile subconscious.
But Ed never let Alfons touch his hair. He would dart, move, and almost weave to avoid Alfons's searching, almost begging hands.
The kicker of it was that Ed seemed to think he had the right to mess with Alfons's hair on a moment's notice, though it never made any sense to him because his hair was short, and impossible to play with in any case.
Edward though just kept moving his fingers up and down Alfons's scalp in that almost-routine (yet impossibly soothing) massaging motion…
And the argument was dropped.