It's been years.
Years since Father left. Years since we first started Alchemy. Years since Winry's parents were killed. Years since Mother got sick. …Years since Mother… Years since we tried to perform human transmutation. Years since Alphonse lost his body. Years since I first joined the military.
It's been years.
And what?
What has happened?
Death. Murders. Mysteries. Guilt. Battles. Death. Blood.
The pungent smell of the rich life-giving liquid stains my hands and my nightmares. And no matter how many times I wash my hands…both the automail and the flesh…I can't get it off. It won't come off. I scrub and scrub and scrub and yet still, when I wipe off the droplets of soap with the towel…
There's red. Everywhere.
That's why I wear gloves. Not to hide the automail. No. That's not it at all.
There's just too much blood.
Disclaimer: Me no own FMA.
Faith: Did this orignally start out as RizaXRoy? Now it's angst. I am crying right now. Really crying. God, Edward...and this is just my Edward...my interpretation of why he wears gloves...he can't really feel this way, Faith, this is just your version of Angst!Edward so relax...
Nekomo: Sorry...there has to be breaks between the Roy and Riza-ness. Check back later. Thanks for reading!