This Way
Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist Extraordinaire, sighed heavily, his chin resting on a pile of completed paperwork. His face was getting covered in ink, as the papers were freshly done, and his signature wasn't exactly dry yet, but he hadn't seemed to notice.
That; or he didn't care.
Hawkeye raised her head when she heard the Colonel sigh, giving him a sympathetic look when she saw what he was doing.
The office had been quiet as the grave for about two weeks now, and Mustang was getting more and more depressed with every day that passed. And thus, everyone's morale was suffering. Let's just face it, it's hard to be cheerful when you're made to work overtime every day during the week and come in on the weekends on pain of death, without any extra pay.
For the first couple of days, they had tried to convince him to fix what he had done. He had quickly gotten tired of that and had held his fingers at the ready any time someone even looked in his direction.
Mustang sighed again, glancing up on the clock at the wall.
It was eleven o'clock at night. He should have gone home hours ago.
Of course, he couldn't really think of a dusty (not to mention empty) apartment as home.
His thoughts drifting, he found himself wondering where he would be (in his apartment, pouring over some alchemy book that he had dug out of who knows where). He wouldn't be planning on sleeping for at least another few hours, if at all.
Which meant, if he left now, he could get there before he went to bed.
Roy pushed his chair back and peeled the report off his cheek. Standing up, he grabbed his coat, and bid Hawkeye goodnight.
Maybe it wasn't better off this way after all.
The End
a/n: -hides- I'm so sorry I took so long to update! Please please please don't kill me… Well, I hope you liked this. I may do a follow up drabble to it. Maybe. No promises, I know better now.
