Chapter 7: Letters from Me
The book was heavy as he picked it up. The cover was worn from time and use, the carved words on the cover smooth and soft. He ran his hand over the top of it. Should he open it? He laughed silently. It wasn't like it was her diary or anything. They were probably just pictures. It couldn't hurt.
Ed sat on the floor, his legs crossed. He rested the book on his lap as he opened it slowly. The first page was full of pictures of Winry's mother and father. He couldn't remember much about her parents, but from their smiling faces and happy expressions, they looked like nice people.
He smiled softly as he flipped the page. A baby bundled in a white blanket stared at him with wide, innocent eyes. He knew it was her from the tuft of blonde hair that curled on the baby's forehead. The eyes hadn't yet taken on the deep blue color that she currently possessed, but were instead a dark brown, almost black color.
He continued looking, the duster discarded at his feet, forgotten.
Soon, he was looking at pictures of Winry when she was five and six. Her hair was shorter then, and her face was round and childish. When he turned to a page with him and her posing in front of his house, his heart jumped.
She had her hands clasped behind her back, a shy smile on her face. Her cheeks were a bright pink color. He had his arm slung across her shoulders, a friendly smile on his face. He was wearing a pair of khaki colored shorts and a red t-shirt. She wore a white sundress and black shoes. He couldn't remember why or when the picture had been taken, but as Ed gazed at the picture, he felt something inside him stir.
Even then he took advantage of her friendship. In the whole town, Winry had been his only friend, save for Al. She'd always been around. It seemed to Ed that they'd known each other forever. They played all the time, the three of them, always laughing and joking. He didn't know it until just then, but he missed those times. He missed that period in his life a great deal.
Hastily, he flipped to the next page.
He frowned in puzzlement. Instead of the regular sight of pictures, he saw instead sheets of paper. Two full sized sheets were fitted onto a page. He looked at the first one. It was a letter. The writing was loopy and swirled, obviously a girl's handwriting. Was it written to Winry? He wondered.
As he looked closer, he saw his name printed on the top. He began to read the letter, uncaring of privacy or secrecy. The letter read thus:
Dear Ed,
How are you? I mean…how are you and Al? I hope you're both okay. I miss you. I mean, I miss Al too! Oh, what am I even doing? You're never going to read this. I don't even know where you are…I wish I knew. When you guys left I was afraid. I still am. I don't want to be alone here. I don't have any friends besides you and Al…
I've never felt so sad, Ed. I wish you were here. But you'll never know that 'cause you left without even telling us where you were going! I can't send this letter. I feel so helpless.
Come home soon, Ed. Please.
Winry
Ed's heart was pounding, but he didn't stop to ponder her words. The next letter was slightly shorter, and it looked more recent.
Dear Ed,
I'm writing again. It's been almost a year, and still no word from you. Sometimes I'll catch myself thinking about when we were kids. How we used to play. You used to tease me so much! It made me so mad but, but…now I would give anything to have you tease me again. I miss Al a lot, but I know deep in my heart that I miss you more. I…I love like you, Ed.
Come home soon,
Winry
Had he read correctly? He held the book with trembling hands. A lone tear streaked down his cheek, landing on the page. Reading these letters, seeing her sadness and her longing, he felt his heart break. He'd missed so much of her life, but even when he was gone she still waited for him, still missed him.
Still, he didn't feel bad for going out and searching for the stone. He'd done it to restore him and Al back to normal. It wasn't a selfish reason, but reading her letters to him, and seeing her true feelings, guilt spread through him. While he was out facing the trials of the military and of their lives, Winry was here, wondering and wishing. Had he ever thought of her outside of auto mail mechanics?
Ed stood up, the book falling off his lap with a thud. He was panting with suppressed emotions. He whispered hurriedly, "I…I have to apologize. I have to talk to her. I have to tell her I…"
He stopped short. Tell her what?
That I love her too.
Ed bolted from the room, his thoughts racing as he ran. All this time, she'd kept her feelings hidden from him. And not surprisingly, he'd done the same. He almost laughed at the irony. But now, he knew her feelings. Every time he wondered, "Does she still care?" he never knew if the answer was yes.
Now he did.
He ran out the front door, calling to Pinako that he was heading into town. The old woman smiled as she watched the young man run down the road. Well done, Edward, she thought. Well done.
AN: I'm proud of this chapter. I hope the scrapbook letters make sense. If there are any questions or comments, tell me in the reviews. I always enjoy feedback. Chapter eight should be up and running soon. Until then…&Niiroke&
