And Yet
Winry sat at the workbench, staring at the automail leg in front of her. A part of her was dissecting the limb dispassionately, while another part of her wished she could compare it to Edward's leg. The changes her doppelganger had made to the limb made her want to use them in this leg. She remembered the variations the northern weight automail had but it wasn't as good as having it in front of her to look at and study.
And yet.
And yet, she didn't want to talk to Edward right now. When he'd visited her in her room, she'd barely been able to speak to him. If Alphonse knew, Edward had to, too. His apology more than anything told her that.
Shivering, Winry pulled her coveralls tighter around her body. She just couldn't seem to get warm today, and it seemed like it would've been such a gorgeous day, too.
"Are you going to stay down here all day?" Granny's voice drifted down the staircase, followed by the sounds of her steps on the risers. "You didn't eat breakfast, and it's past lunch. You know that piece you're working on isn't a rush job." Her hands, gnarled and warm, landed on Winry's shoulders, giving her tight muscles a squeeze. "You know it's not those boys' fault," she said.
"I know," Winry agreed softly. Turning around, she let her clasped hands fall between her knees. "Granny, how different could their world be?"
"Different enough, girl," Granny said. "But enough is the same. Those boys are still Ed and Al." She patted Winry's hands.
"I know."
And yet, they were so different, too.
