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Tuesday

Roy awoke to the creaking of the bathroom door. It did not shut, and he knew she did so as not to disturb him – the less noise the better. Hayate harked alongside Roy until steps returned, and the bedroom door closed. To his surprise, she crawled back into bed instead of gathering her clothes for the day.

Roy felt his heart warm when her cooled down body scooted close to find his. Actively. Her hand landed on his navel, then his chest, grasping his shirt as carefully as possible while still using it to draw herself close. He disguised the appreciative groan that bubbled in his throat at the way she curled herself into him with a sigh.

The wine, he assumed. Drinking something cold late at night always made her get up. Perhaps it would be her time of the month sooon, he pondered. It commonly announced itself with backaches a few days before, but Roy did not fret. He was prepared. He had already dug out the hot water bottle and fluffy blanket. He had located the cardboard box where she had packed her books into, and he had bought her favourite tea and hot chocolate ingredients.

There was no feeling bad under his roof, not if he could help it – not when it came to her.

Waiting another minute until she had settled in, Roy opened one eye. Hardly five o'clock in the morning. He glanced down at her. She was the cutest thing. Nothing like the uncompromising, adamant Lieutenant at work – she looked vulnerable somehow; defenceless and dependant by how she clutched his shirt. Not that he complained.

His gaze fell to the shirt she was wearing – his shirt, which she had clandestinely slipped on from his discarded clothes while he had been in the bathroom. Not for the first time, he did not linger on her cleavage, but wandered down. Her stomach was always soft, the skin as much as the downy blond hairs one could only ever see from up close. The last night, she had not merely been a sight to behold, but an unusual one, too.

She had eaten enough for a small mound to temporarily rise. He had adored it, having traced and kissed it even more than customarily. Never telling her why as not to prompt her to stop him.

Right now, that abdomen was concealed by fabric. Loose fabric. The way it fell, bulging due to the way the buttons stiffened the front, it seemed as if that tiny mound had grown overnight. He stared at it for another minute. Without meaning to, he saw her without the shirt in front of his inner eye, that growing stomach expanding for other reasons than food.

"Wake me again in an hour," Riza muttered, breaking his trance. She must have felt his gaze, too tired to return it or reprimand. He noticed how his shoulders had tensed with building-up excitement, so he consciously relaxed them. Reaching behind him, he draped the blanket he must have stolen at some point over them again.

"Two," he croaked back. They had a car after all; there was no need to hurry. It was not forbidden to 'pick her up on the way to work', hence it was something he did from time to time. Often even, whenever she let him.

"Please?" she quietly pleaded. Her voice was different, too, when she was with him. Higher, so it seemed, at least on occasion. Perhaps to be more feminine, or – so he realised – because she felt more feminine. Just as she let herself be vulnerable and not on top for once. He always took the lead – he was the superior officer – and they trusted each other blindly, but when it came to relying on the other, she was the driving force, organising his every tactic and foreseeing what he needed to operate his plans.

"Alright," he mellowed. Tucking the blanket over her, he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. Her scent was enticing, at the same time lulling him back into sleep. He felt her smile against him, so he rose a brow. Her deep exhale was as much one of relaxation as it was one of amusement at how he sniffed her hair. A light blush crept up nis neck.

Grumbling only made her chuckle more, deepening the red of his cheeks. He had to smile nonetheless. Winding his arms around her, he pulled her closer. Another deep sigh, then her fingers around his shirt loosened. She drifted back off easily, obviously still tired. He followed suit soon after, but the thoughts she had interrupted manifested in his dreams instead.

There she was. Cute – even cuter than before, big eyes and a dress she did not yet fit into. No ten years old, neither five. Merely a baby. Or a toddler. He was terrible at estimating children's ages. But there she was – short haired, big-eyed toddler Riza.

Confusion replaced adoration when she was there again, this time as herself. Picking the child up as if it was her own. He realised it must have been just that – mini-Riza. Riza's baby. The spitting image of her mother and not a trace of him. Of anyone, he scolded himself.

Roy took a moment to become aware that he was not dreaming anymore. He had been, he suspected, but it had been one of those crazy, vivid early-morning dreams that merged and flowed almost seamlessly into drifting thoughts. He was awake.

A glance at the clock told him that it was quarter past six. Wine really did make her sleepy.

Minutes passed. His eyes never once strayed from her. His mind was blank, at the same time filled with a whirlwind of images. Prudent not to wake her, he snuck a hand beneath her shirt. Digestion had reduced what had been left of the rounded belly, but he allowed his mind to wander and conjure up once more that lovely sight of her pregnant.

Riza and her mini-Riza. He could see her carrying the baby, playing, napping and bathing with it. Nursing it. Every scenario caused his heart to skip several beats. As with everything, she was splendid in her role as a mother.

Dozing on and off, his brain had him starring in the next set of scenes. Him with the baby. All three of them. Playing and napping and bathing, just like a family. Parents who spent time with their child, and who did not die early, leaving it behind. Parents who loved each other dearly. Parents who were permitted to be parents, lovers and have a child.

At three past seven, Roy stirred awake one final time. She was already going to be cross with him once she saw the time, so there was no reason to rush now. Neither needed much time in the bathroom, and they had his car. He had never once been keen on arriving early.

Tightening his embrace, Roy squeezed her to him. A moan escaped her, a pressed breath announcing her to be awake. Her lashes fluttered, tickling his neck in a most delightful way. He craned his neck to kiss one of her lids before it could open. Then he kissed her forehead, listening to the pattern of her breathing he knew so well. He often accidentally roused her during the night, having memorised the change of airflow out of pity.

She tilted her head back, those beautiful eyes finding his. They were still small with sleep. He could not help but smile down fondly. She glanced away, broadening his smile. Rubbing her eyes, and arching her back, Riza acted as if having forgotten it was a weekday. Maybe she had, he mused, not speaking up.

She dared looking at him again when feeling his eyes on her. She raised a brow. Gaze flashing up and down, she made him frown.

"Comfortable?" she asked. It took him a moment to understand. Even then, he did not retract his hand.

"It's so warm and soft," he justified with slight hesitation. Her brow creased into a frown of her own. An amused one, he happily noted.

But the reminder brought back those pictures his subconscious had painted all morning.

"Is it already six?" Riza yawned. It was seven. Five past seven. He replied with a vague hum, and when she gave him a look, about to turn over and glance at the alarm he seldom set, he all but blabbed to stop her.

"If you ever have a baby," Roy clumsily blurted. Her frown intensified. It was nearing bewilderment, but that luckily distracted her enough as not to question his suddenly tightening grip for her not to turn over.

"Which I won't," she said. A tad too immediately, he found. She would already be annoyed once seeing how late it was, and now he was bothering her with irrelevant figments. His heart stung when her stomach tensed beneath his palm. She must have made the connection between his words and gestures.

"Hypothetically," he hastily added. She let him, not saying anything. It did not allay him in the slightest, neither the narrowed eyes, but he went on regardless. He had to give his mind a fraction of peace if he wanted to go through his day without mini-Riza haunting him. "If you did; if you had a child, could I be a part of that?" he sounded all too enthusiastic.

Riza regarded him for another moment. It felt like eternity, not least because they would soon have to hurry in order to be on time. Then she sighed, nearly making him flinch. The expected sharpness did not come. She closed her eyes.

"If I ever became pregnant, it would be because you put too much trust in my pills again and omitted the sheath for 'comfort' reasons, so yes," she quirked a single brow at him, "you damn better be a part of the mess you'd make," she shook her head to herself.

"I will," Roy squished her to him, again too eager.

"Would," she corrected, muffled into his shirt. He pouted but dropped the issue. Now of course, he saw lots of situations with all three of them, purposefully saving up the way his baby – his mini-Riza – would look like for after work. They really needed to get up. "Is that romantic part of you running rampant again?" she teasingly tapped his forehead, turning over.

As expected, she all but slapped the blanket into his face when spotting the alarm. She returned from the bathroom before he had collected his entire uniform. Her haste spurred him, too, and he inwardly facepalmed himself when recalling that Hayate needed a walk. She had to stay over more often; he had lost their rhythm.

His pout returned when she put on one of her many sports bras.

"Say, Lieutenant," Roy masked his haste behind a smirk, "did you wear that sexy lingerie just for me?" he stepped behind her, gently tugging her hair out of her uniform's jacket. Oh how he wanted her to breathe a husky 'yes'.

"There are many things I do for no one but you," she clipped her hair into place, then turned to face him. Her words made his pulse rise, then shot him down like a clay pigeon. "But that was not one of those," she clarified. His shoulders dropped.

"It's so uncommon," he repeated his mesmerised excuses from the night before. Digging yet politely enough for her to just brush him off if she chose to.

She chose to button up his shirt in his stead.

"It's just…" she did not meet his eyes, pretending to focus on the task she had done a dozen times already. "It gives me confidence when I feel more special than usual – I wanted a little boost for the inspection yesterday, so I wore it," she reasoned. "I know, it doesn't make sense since no one can see it, but to me that was enough," she said.
He overtook when she finished with his shirt, watching with fond amusement how she turned away quickly to hide a blush.

He halted her in her tracks by slamming his hand against the doorframe, blocking her way. With growing urgency, she huffed, shooting him a glare. It vanished into thin air when he held out his State Alchemist's watch, opening the lid with a click.

Dried up and rather miserably looking, the remains of an old flower chain made Riza's eyes go wide. Daisies. His since then favourite flowers.

A heartbeat passed before she could form words.

"You don't really still have that," she said in spite of looking straight at it. Her expression was as neutral as always, but the pink tinge on her cheeks betrayed her. He smiled from one ear to the other. She recognised her own handiwork so immediately, she must have remembered the day she had gifted it as perfectly as him. The day he had left for his State Alchemist examination. The day she had made him that flower chain for good luck.

The day he had left her after studying her back.

"I keep it in a safer place," he pointed at his wardrobe, "but took it with me yesterday," he confessed. He did not have to pronounce the reason; it was the same as hers after all.

Their heels clacked on the pavement, strappy sandals by far quicker than simple courts.

"Come on, Riza," Rebecca took her friend's arm when the latter slowed down. Again. "How come you be so tired anyway? From what you told me about your new living community, there's nothing to be exhausted from – unless, that is, there's something you want to share with me…?" she quirked a teasing brow. Riza rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe you're still accusing me of having some illicit affair," she retorted. "And I said I was tired of this, not in general."

"I don't see why; we were so successful," Rebecca reasoned, merrily dragging her along.

"You were," Riza corrected.

"Not for long," Rebecca grinned, earning herself a frown. "Just wait till I show you – I found the most gorgeous dress. You're going to love it. It's perfect for tonight, and of course I had it reserved for-"

"Hold on," Riza gave a tug to make her friend slow down. Her feet had been killing her after the first six shops already. She was used to boots – both military as well as civilian. Heels were fine and necessary given the occasion, but those occasions did not stretch for as long as they had already been running through town (plus, running was not commonly required during banquets and other celebrations. Not even those hosted by the military.)

She had to force an extra slow pace for Rebecca to adapt a normal one. Where did she get all the energy from?

"We're here for your date," Riza reminded, "and in the nick of time, I might add."

"Nope, I cancelled the date," Rebecca announced just as cheerfully as before.

"What?" Riza was too stunned to fight when her friend started towing her along again. "You were looking forward to it so much."

"I know," Rebecca shrugged, "that's why I only postponed it – I came up with the perfect plan."

"I still don't see why I have to wear a dress," Riza mumbled.

"Hear me out," Rebecca pushed open the door to a shop Riza would have never entered on her own. In under a minute, she found herself shoved into a dressing room, dress in hand, and robbed of her purse. The subtlest of blackmailing, she knew. "So he said he'd pick me up at eight and drive me in his car to where we'll have drinks – it's a surprise where, he didn't tell," Rebecca began.

"You hate surprises," Riza said. She swallowed how she herself would oftentimes still be in the office at that time anyway.

"Exactly!" Rebecca all but exclaimed. Riza winced when the curtain opened a slot wide, a finger pointing for emphasis and a piercing gaze shooting through. "Of course he isn't you and doesn't know everything about me," she circled her palm, letting the curtain drop again. "Get on with it and change. I wanna see you in that dress," she interjected herself.

Reluctantly, Riza obliged. She made sure to turn her back to the side as not to risk anyone peeking in again and seeing it either directly or in the mirror. Naturally, she had never told Rebecca, but at some point her friend had simply guessed and labelled it as a discomfort to have her back shown. Riza had the ugly scar excuse ready, not least because it was true, but Rebecca never asked. However curious and gossip-loving, she never poked her nose into where she felt she crossed a serious line.

"So I asked him if we could meet on Thursday instead – to which he agreed – and which gives us time to try out the location before the date and recover all night tomorrow! Genius," Rebecca folded her arms over her chest, nodding self-complacently to herself.

"How do you know the location if he didn't tell you?" Riza asked. The moment her skirt dropped, Rebecca relaxed. The unspoken agreement of not barging in anymore was put into effect.

"I asked around," she nonchalantly said.

"You stalked him," Riza rephrased, unbuttoning her blouse. She had nearly put on the Colonel's in her haste to meet Rebecca punctually after work. Havoc and his stupid protocols…

"Let's just say I did some research in order not to end up falling for some creep."

"You're serious about this," Riza remarked with slight surprise. Plucking at the skirt of the dress, she pulled it down as far as she could. Closing the zipper was something she had mastered over the years of not being able to ask for help. Drawing the curtain aside, she stepped out. "You haven't used the words 'falling for someone' in quite some time," she had to smile. Rebecca was such a cheery, outgoing person, but even with expectations like hers when it came to men, she remained realistic about herself. She did not euphemise her own weaknesses, never lying to herself concerning feelings.

"He's a dear; he really- woah," she gasped, gaping at her friend. "It's even better than I thought it would be!" she hopped up and down, then gripped Riza's arms. "You haven't even looked, have you? Now tell me I don't know you like the back of my hand," she grinned triumphantly, spinning Riza to face the mirror.

She was right. Riza had to admit to herself that she looked rather stunning for an outfit this simple. It really was simple – a slim, black dress, with a zipper, a covered back and as compensation rather plunging neckline. It was shorter than she would have liked, though merely a tad, and she appreciated the walking slit on the side. Perfect for drawing a gun.

"Look, it even has the thing you never use to your advantage," Rebecca flicked the side of the skirt. Riza had to chuckle.

"I find self-defence a more than justifiable advantage," she said.

"So tell me – don't I know you better than you do yourself?" Rebecca smirked.

"You don't," Riza deadpanned. She received a slap, a huff and a giggle in return. "But you have an outstanding instinct when it comes to this," she turned sideways to regard herself some more.

"You may call me 'Master'," Rebecca jokingly praised herself. "Now let's go; we gotta check out that bar," she grabbed her arm again. Riza drilled her heels into the ground.

"I'm not going-"

"But you're perfectly dressed and it's late and I'm paying your drink – you only ever drink one anyway," she added more quietly.

"Becca," Riza retracted her arm, "I don't want to go to some bar and sit there all night. You'll go there on Thursday anyway; it won't be so bad, and if you're this desperate to see it beforehand, you can walk in and out."

"How embarrassing would that be," Rebecca tutted. "And it's not like you have any plans," she put her hands on her hips. She challenged, Riza knew, trying to lure out a wrong confession or two. Or use it to pressure her to come.

"In contrary to you, I have to get up early tomorrow," was all she said. Taking the curtain, she shut herself off again, ready to change back and go home. Well, go to Roy's place, that was. There was not really a difference if she was being honest (which she was not).

"Remember that time you abandoned your dog and I took care of him for two entire weeks?" Rebecca played dirty – and successfully so. "How I had to rush back and forth to walk him, skipping my own lunch, having my clothes covered in mud for the little darling to enjoy himself… Lying to my landlady about-"

"Fine, fine," Riza raked open the dressing room's drape, still in the dress. Rebecca's eyes sparkled. Snatching her purse away, Riza lead the way to the checkout, paying the dress. "You forgot to mention that I was in hospital," she hissed with a glare to the side, "and your landlady loved Hayate," she turned on the heel, a bag with her own clothes in hand. Rebecca only skipped after her, content with her achievement.

Riza's feet were officially killing her. After half a day of hasting up and down headquarters, followed by an intense shopping-marathon and now hours of having drinks at bar tables, she would have rather walked home barefooted. The night was chilly however, almost making her wish back the stuffy pub air. Almost.

Rebecca had yet to cease ranting – or take a breath in between – even more talkative with alcohol in her blood. Riza appreciated it greatly. She was not drunk, but she could feel the single glass she had had making her sleepy. She had never tried opening the slit in the dress either.

With that in mind, Riza's eyes narrowed when she heard a car slow down across from them. The headlights cast their shadows far across the sidewalk, then the breaks squeaked. Determined to keep walking, she tensed when the window was cranked down. A millisecond before hearing the familiar voice, she recognised the hum of the engine.

"Evening, ladies," Roy lowly greeted, leaning his elbow out the window. That lunatic had actually crossed the street and parked himself on the oncoming lane just to chat them up in the coolest way he could think of. It was pitch-black out, there were no cars, but still…

"Uuh, it's your handsome roommate," Rebecca nudged Riza suggestively. As if he could not hear them.

"Handsome?" Roy arched a single brow. "You've got good taste, Miss Catalina," he smirked. Riza rolled her eyes. It was a good trial to see whether she had had too much to drink, but there was no dizziness, thankfully.

"So sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not on the market anymore," Rebecca lifted her nose.

"How about your friend there?" his eyes sparked with amusement, and he had to fight a grin when Riza gave him a glare. Rebecca laughed out loud, though at his question rather than the exchange. That, she did not notice to begin with. Fortunately so, Riza assessed, the affection in his eyes unmistakable. And what was he doing there at this hour anyway?

Her train of thoughts crashed when she was being jumped. Staggering, she nearly fell. Her ankle twisted, but she rammed her other foot into the ground as not to lose footing. Rebecca still having her arm linked might have just saved her and the new dress.

"Hayate!" Riza scolded. Roy was grimacing as much as her, already inspecting his car for scratches where Hayate had scrambled out the window to meet her. "I'm sorry, were you worried?" she crouched down, stroking his head.

"Terribly," Roy supplied. "The dog," he quickly saved himself. Or so he thought. She flashed him a warning glance but Rebecca was too caught up with collecting their tumbled shopping bags. And standing straight. She claimed to know her limit precisely, though that precision apparently only stood for 'much'.

A car honked at them as it passed by, having to change lanes as not to crash into Roy. He ignored it.

He got out and helped Rebecca pick everything up, tossing it all onto the backseat before helping her in. With haste, he closed the door, only to open the passenger one for her. It dawned on her that he must have hoped to find them, maybe even planned the conversation in his head. He had always been a night owl, but staying up this late just to flirt with two subordinates of whom one was unavailable and the other forbidden to reciprocate his advances by law?

He had always been a crazy man with crazy ambitions.

The engine started with a rumble that made Rebecca giggle. Then again when he had to make a silly pun. "And there I was, fearing you had literally shopped till you dropped," he shook his head as if lecturing a child. Rebecca snorted. Riza tried to blank out the way she 'unsuspiciously' whispered – if that still counted as a whisper – to Riza how he had his own car. Further did Riza keep from informing her friend about how she was being driven to work in said car every day for the time being.

Roy's smile twitched upwards with every funny story or sudden tipsy realisation Rebecca had. Riza was only glad her friend did not recount all those juicy details she had told her about her previous trysts. She could bet her every coin that he would be interested in that.

Fifteen minutes later, Riza had brought Rebecca up to her flat. They would have never found the building had Riza not guided him.

It was well past one o'clock in the morning when he finally unlocked the door to his flat. Riza used those seconds to step out of her shoes, rather getting her feet moist on the threshold than taking another step in those heels. Her feet thanked her for it by prickling, then aching when she curled or stretched them. A sigh of relief escaped her.

"Thank you again for walking Hayate today," she staggered slightly when bending down to take her shoes. His hand landed over hers. He took it, bringing the shoes inside with the other. His focus was on her though, dark eyes burning into her while he steadied her balance. She let him lead her inside the bedroom, enjoying the way she could lean on him.

"Are you alright?" he enquired. Shit, he sounded so concerned. Suppressing another sigh, Riza met his eyes.

"I'm fine; just tired," she assured. "I'm sorry, I wanted to call but there was this guy-"

"What guy?" his eyes fired up dangerously.

"Nothing happened, he just distracted me – he didn't even come over, he was just causing some small riot at another table," she explained. His shoulders sank, features relaxing. Somewhat. "Sorry," she repeated. She really had wanted to call, but Rebecca had made fun of Riza monitoring him like her new-born instead of allaying him. She could not have let his reputation go that way.

Completely oblivious of the 'Nanny' they were already calling her at Headquarters.

"Honestly, I'm sorry," she put a hand on his chest. It made him shudder with an instantaneous shiver, luring out a smile from her. "But you really mustn't wait up for so long," she glanced at the clock once they entered the bedroom. It was almost not worth going to bed anymore. "Did you drive around all night?" she insisted. He had expected her to return for dinner – she dearly hoped he had not set out to find her since then.

The first aid kit in the car had not gone unnoticed either.

"Hardly," Roy vaguely disclosed. She raised a brow. "Let's just say Hayate had enough exercise for the week," he grinned sheepishly. "Did you still want to take a shower today?" he asked. A glance at the clock told him how it was already tomorrow, but he let it slide. She pondered on it for a moment, then nodded.

"I don't think I'll be more awake tomorrow if I stayed up the rest of the night as well," she weakly nagged. Reaching behind her, her toes hurting when she rose up to get a hold of the zipper, Riza had to widen her stance as not to topple over. Perhaps a single glass did account for more than she had previously assumed – it had not simply been wine after all.

"That seems a little complicated," Roy smoothly freed her back in a single motion. His hands were warm on the small of her back, surely from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. His lips were even warmer, chewed off but tender as he dragged them along her neck. "I'll get you a fresh towel," he murmured.

And then he was gone. Riza surprised herself when there was a hollow void in the pit of her stomach. Any other day, she would have berated herself for such wants, but at that moment, she wanted nothing more than for his warmth to return, to radiate across her exposed skin, and for his lips to explore a path down her-

She shook her head. Now there was the dizziness. The in-depth reports Rebecca had retold at the bar did not help one bit, rather sending a twist through her stomach and below. She would deny to anyone, including herself, how she had pictured Roy's face in each indecent incident.

Taking a deep inhale, Riza banned the replay her mind was giving her. Focusing on the knob of his wardrobe, she crossed her arms over her abdomen. Grasping the fabric of her dress, she tried lifting it over her head much like one of her turtlenecks. She growled when an amused chuckle announced his return.

"Why don't you just drop it?" Roy playfully advised. It took her a moment to get the dress back down, freeing her head to direct a glare at him. His hands landed on her waist with practised ease, if she allowed the thought, brushing it back into place.

"Because that doesn't work," she puffed, "it gets stuck."

"Stuck?" his forehead creased into a frown. "I can't imagine that," he said. For some reason, he sounded everything but puzzled. Rather… eager. Hungry almost, his body frozen in place. She could practically feel his eyes bore into her, searing and drilling with undisputable lust.

"You don't have to," she courtly dismissed. His face fell, the utter bafflement amusing her.

"I mean, I don't quite understand; you're going to have to demonstrate," he stammered. He stammered. Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, standing absolutely still at half to two in the morning, his tongue tying into a knot at the mere idea of what his absolutely off-limits adjutant hinted at.

"It's not important, don't worry," she innocently waved off. His fingers twitched in agitation when she reached for the fabric again, taking her time to pretend she wanted to lift it up again. Not that he was not usually thrilled when she did, but he was hoping for something else.

Right now, he was like a hunting dog, maybe a herding dog, prepared to strike into action upon her signal.

"No, I have to," he replied. To what exactly she was not sure. Random gestures halted when once he ventured a glance upwards. His eyes glinted, the pink of his cheeks turning into a deep red when catching sight of the sly smile she could not keep to herself anymore.

Those few hours really did not matter anymore, did they?

She dropped the dress. Letting the straps slide down her shoulders, she revealed what he was shamelessly thirsting for. It stopped at her hips. Stuck. Caught on those hips he worshipped whenever given the chance, not yet wide but just so to keep the cotton from pooling at her ankles. One of them – the same he had accidentally hit against the table the other day – was throbbing from earlier, yet not heeded in the slightest.

He was right in front of her within the measure of a single heartbeat. Their hot breaths mingled. Those hands she struggled not to compel to never leave her landed on her waist. Hotly, he trailed them down. His thumbs hooked onto the skirt, forcing it down. They remained on her thighs, digging into the supple skin. Riza let out a moan, her head falling back. She had to grab hold of his shirt as not to slump.

He plunged his gaze into hers when she met it. His hands went back up, their eyes never straying any further from the other than fleetly to their lips. Her insides coiled with excitement when his fingers found the hem of her knickers, stealing themselves beneath and firmly kneading her rear. She bit down on her lower lip, a groan scraping up her throat.

Whether she wanted to or not, sleep would be long in coming.

Roy left his eyes shut when hearing the bathroom door creak closed. Next was the bedroom door, her feet squelching faintly on the wooden floorboards. How she had had the energy to actually shower and wash her hair, he could not fathom. Of course, he had had the energy to join her for a quick review of not ten minutes before, but that was an entirely different battery. Like dessert had its own stomach.

The fact that she had let him in, fully aware of his motives, and then allowed him to proceed… She had never once agreed to a second round when already in the shower. And seldom overall. His new favourite, he deemed, fairly content with the red streaks down his shoulder blades. That restless evening had certainly proven to have been worth it.

Riza groped around for the mattress. Climbing on, she accidentally bumped against his leg. Losing her balance, unable to see a thing in the dark, she unintentionally prodded his thigh with her knee, catching herself next to him. A small exhale of relief vented towards him.

"You're not drunk, are you?" he gently mocked. If she had been, he would not have imposed himself onto her so much. He would have felt horrible for it now, that much was clear.

"No," she sucked in a breath, "I misjudged the distance," she defended herself. Her voice was so raw, he felt his heart speed up momentarily. Because he was the reason for it.

"Why not misjudge the distance a couple of centimetres to the right?" he flirtingly jested, indicating his groin. She all but flopped into the sheets. Groaning of exhaustion and exasperation he knew was not meant in a bad way. His smile softened when he saw her silhouette deflate with a sigh. "Come to me," Roy outstretched his arms.

Channelling whatever fractions of strength she had left, Riza crawled beneath the blanket. Instead of next to him, she let herself fall onto him. He huffed upon the impact, chuckling. His smile broadened when feeling her own against his chest, savouring the way she rocked up and down with his every breath. As did she, he concluded, finding her peacefully asleep within a minute.

Both of them inwardly crying let's stay like this forever.