royai for rukusho.
Roy Mustang was drunk. Not the accidental 'whoops! I seem to have had too much' but the determined attacked against cognition that was the banner of the truly determined. Or the truly desperate.
Riza looked down at her commanding officer, who really wasn't in a state to be commanding much of anything at present, and sighed.
"Sir, time to head home."
Roy turned his head to regard her, his movement jerky as messages took some time getting from the brain to actual muscles, some messages fizzing out as soon as they noticed just how saturated the man's bloodstream was with rather cheap brandy. He looked to be thinking deeply for a moment, and finally opened his mouth to bestow a stunning bit of wisdom upon his first lieutenant. "I don' wan'to."
"Sir, I really think…"
Roy motioned at the drink sitting untouched beside him on the bar. "Was saving it for Maes, but he isn' gonna come. You can have't." Roy took that opportunity to glare balefully at the glass from bloodshot eyes. The glass didn't appear to be cowed.
"Sir?" Riza was a bit perturbed. This was not usual Mustang behavior, even for a very, very drunk Mustang…
Roy sighed, settling his face into one hand as he peered in her general direction. "Sit. Drink. I wan' company."
"Let me call Havoc, sir. This is more of his…"
"Sit. Is an order." Roy snapped, trying hard for his usual commanding precision.
More than a little unsure, Riza perched on the edge of the barstool beside her inebriated commander, wondering what the hell to do next. She eyed the glass, not really wanting to drink…and felt a weight settle against her side. Roy huffed a soft exhalation of breath and leaned against her.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, sir." Riza smiled gently, deciding that a drink might not be out of place after all. it appeared she was going to linger for a bit after all.