Hundred Themes EdWin - 048
Smiling face
When Winry operated on Ed's limbs the first time, she was scared.
Ed was haunted by his fears and he was crying and regretful and oh-my-god he was in so much pain. She wiped away sweat from time to time, and when she looked again, glistening droplets were forming on his skin once more, taunting her.
When he was asleep, restless and still in pain, she wanted to touch him. Partly to try comforting him and partly to comfort her.
It was a bit selfish, but she needed to know without-a-doubt that he was fine.
She wondered if she'd ever see his smiling face again.
When she finally dozed off, lightly and restlessly, she dreamt.
It wasn't really a dream-- more of a nightmare. In fact, it was the kind of nightmare that made you want to scream and get out now. Wake and just escape it.
The dream was screams and terror and pain and infinite remorse. It was painful holding back the tears when she wanted to just -scream-.
She breathed raggedly, gathering the shreds of calmness as if things would ever go back to normal.
She slept at his bedside. As restless as him, having nursed him over the course of the night.
He's quieted down when she'd stayed and talked to him. She liked to think it was because she was Winry and not only because she stayed for him.
But it was fine if he didn't think that, she thought, so at the break of dawn and she woke up, she stood up, and silently she replaced the rag on his forehead and brushed strands of matted golden hair away from his face.
Then she left closing the door softly-- and she didn't hear Ed's voice hoarsely (but audibly, if barely so) calling out her name, "Winry."
And she didn't see the weak (but present) smile on his face as he dreamed.
"Winry."