I don't own them… #35 Letter
He reached into the mailbox and pulled out his mail; it was mostly bills and junk, until he came to a small white envelope with the neat, perfect handwriting he knew was hers. He ripped it open and carefully pulled out the white paper, setting the envelope down on the steps as he sat down too. He hadn't heard from her since she had been transferred, no phone call, no letter; it had been close to a year since she left. He unfolded the paper and two smaller pieces of paper fell out, landing on his lap. He picked them up and tears welled in his eyes as he saw the figures on them; one was a picture of his newborn daughter being held by a proud looking Riza and the other one was a picture of his child laying down in her crib. He dried his eyes enough to read the letter, the words making him cry again.
'Dearest Roy, I hope this letter reaches you without problems. I've sent you some pictures so you can see the life we created; I've named her Aisia, after your mother. She's just as beautiful as I would have imagined our child being, except I never expected to have to hide her from the world. I'll be returning to Central in a few weeks, but Aisia will stay here in Eastern City with my sister. I know this will be hard on the both of us, but we need to keep our distance from each other. I don't want you to lose your rank and position; they are your tickets to the top. I was able to retain my position, but my rank has been dropped; Havoc I presume is now your first Lieutenant, and I will be a Sergeant Major working for you. Please don't worry about Aisia or me; we're both safe and unharmed. Until we meet again, Riza Hawkeye'
Roy was overjoyed at hearing she would be back, but not at the fact that she would have to leave their child behind. He sighed and carried everything inside, putting the two pictures on his kitchen counter. 'I'll see you soon Riza, and Aisia will be with us.' He thought to himself as he sat down on the couch with a map of Central; he was ready to plan the attack on the lying bastards that made up the highest rungs of the military ladder.