Chapter 28: The Morning After

As he opened his eyes, Roy half-expected the bed to be empty. Surely the legs tangled with his were a figment of his imagination; the cloth against his bare chest was just a sheet, not Riza's nightgown. But there she was, still sleeping peacefully. He ran his fingers gently over her hair, causing her to stir, but rather than waking, she only snuggled closer to him. "Wake up, sleepyhead," he said before planting a kiss on her forehead.

"But if I wake up, you have to go," she murmured in a scratchy voice. Her toes curled and uncurled against his leg.

"I have to go anyway. If you get up, you get to say goodbye."

She tightened her arms around him. "It's not fair. Maybe if I just talked to Father, he'd—"

"You know he wouldn't change his mind," Roy said sadly. In truth, he wanted to cling to her as well, but he was awake now, and this wasn't the time to dream. No amount of begging from Riza would convince Hawkeye to reconsider, not when he felt she deserved better than the likes of Roy. And in truth, there was a part of him that agreed with the stubborn old alchemist. Riza deserved someone who would stick with her through everything instead of leaving her in this place.

"He might listen to me," she said, but she didn't sound as convinced this time around.

With a lump forming in his throat, Roy gave in; he pulled her closer, hugged her until he was absolutely certain he would miss the train if he didn't get up immediately. He still had to shower—and eat, if he found his appetite. Even if he didn't, he had a feeling Riza would try to stuff at least a few bites of scrambled eggs in his mouth. So when he let her go, kicked the sheets off, and sat up, he smiled at her.

"I'll be back soon," he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She blinked in confusion then propped herself up on one elbow. "Soon? But I thought…"

"Shower," he explained. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked up the clothes he had laid out the night before. One last look over his shoulder told him that Riza had moved her head to his pillow, but he forced the image out of his head as he left the room. The last thing he needed was to dwell on the hope that someday, that would be the sight he woke up to every morning: droopy brown eyes, disheveled blonde hair, and his best friend still half asleep in his arms.

The shower didn't do much to ease his heartache. Even his towel—that stupid pink towel Riza had given him—made him feel as though someone had punched him in the gut. At least with him gone, she could use it instead of the ratty one that still hung on the rack. Assuming, of course, that Hawkeye didn't replace him as soon as he got on the train. Riza had said she would talk him out of it, but the thought still bothered Roy.

He hung the towel neatly beside Riza's, dressed, and returned to his room to find it empty. The bed was made and his suitcase sat on top of the blanket, open for him to pack his laundry. That girl really does think of everything. When he had finished packing, he took a final look around the room and noticed a stray pen on the desk. An idea struck him, sending him over to sit in the familiar chair. He pulled a sheet of paper from the top drawer and began to write, scribbling out what started as a short note and ended as a two-page letter. He hadn't even bothered with their code; there wasn't enough time. Just in case she didn't check his room after he left, he snuck into hers and placed the folded pages on her nightstand. With her name printed on the outside, he was certain she would notice it.

Downstairs, he left his suitcase and coat by the door before heading into the kitchen. The table was already set and Riza sat at her usual place with her head buried in her arms. She looked up when she heard him sit, forcing a smile.

"So you decided to eat after all," she said in a flat voice. He suspected she was teasing him, but her tone sucked all the humor out of the statement.

He nodded. "I'd rather eat with you than on the train, even if I'm not hungry."

"Thank you." She picked at her food without saying another word. It was as though the frantic energy that had possessed her last night had vanished with the storm; maybe she was just tired, but he suspected the previous day had taken a lot out of her. After all, it had drained him as well, and now that the giddiness had worn off, he felt the reality of his departure even more sharply.

When they finished eating, Riza found her voice again. "Leave the dishes," she said. "You'll miss the train if we wash them now."

"But then you'll have to do them all by yourself," he said, placing his fork and glass on the plate.

She dragged the plate across the table before he could pick it up. "I might as well get used to it. I'm going to be doing everything by myself again anyway."

As if he didn't feel terrible enough about leaving, the thought of Riza coming home to this made him seriously consider spending the next six weeks living in her treehouse so he could sneak into the house to do her chores every night. But he was leaving to become a soldier, and what kind of soldier would he be if he couldn't follow orders? Reluctantly, he followed Riza to the front door. He folded his coat over his arm before lifting the suitcase and Riza opened the door.

Their free hands found each other as the pair stepped outside. The storm had blown over completely, leaving only a few puffy clouds in the dark blue sky; the road had turned to mud that squelched unpleasantly beneath their feet as they stepped around puddles.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said.

"I suppose it is."

He gripped her hand tighter, wishing he could do more, but he lacked the words to comfort her, so they continued in silence all the way to the village, where he was grateful for the strangers who passed them in the streets. At least their chatter drowned out his thoughts, if only a little.

At the station, he purchased a ticket to Central then pocketed just enough of his money to buy two meals on the train. He gave the rest to Riza.

"I can't take this," she said, holding out the bills he had pressed into her hands.

"Consider it an early birthday present," he said. "Since I won't be able to celebrate it with you this year."

Carefully, she counted the money. "Roy, this is worth more than every present I've ever gotten combined."

"And how many presents have you gotten since your mother died?" He mussed her hair affectionately before cupping her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb until she pulled away.

"Please, not here," she begged. At least she kept the money; when she stepped back from Roy, he saw her slip it into a pocket of the apron she had forgotten to remove when they left the house.

It seemed there was nothing more to do, but the clock at the ticket booth showed that they still had ten minutes before the train left, so he guided Riza to the end of the platform. "How about here?" he asked, but when he leaned in for a kiss goodbye, she turned away.

"No," she said. "We're still in public."

He saw no point in pressing the issue, so he tried to smile instead. It came easier than he thought it would. "Next time I see you, then. I owe you a kiss."

Her head bobbed slightly, but she didn't return his smile. "You should go before the train leaves without you."

"Right. Take care of yourself, Riza," he said.

"You too." She looked over his shoulder for a moment before wrapping her arms around him. "Thanks for everything."

He dropped his suitcase to return the hug, holding her tight as he lifted her off the ground. "I'm gonna miss you," he said when he let her go.

"Me too."

The suitcase felt heavier when he lifted it again, but Riza's fingers laced through his gave him the strength to carry it to the train. He started up the stairs, letting his arm stretch out until only their fingertips touched. He found a seat by the window and leaned out to wave goodbye, since the lump in his throat had grown too large for words.

Riza lifted her hand as well, waved it until the station shrank in the distance; when he could no longer see her, he sank onto the bench, cradling his head in his hands. In two months, he would be at the academy, but he didn't have to be a soldier just yet.

Sorry for the short chapter! The next one will be longer, I promise. Thanks for sticking with me!