"You look just like him," said Wrath, tentatively shifting onto his prosthetic leg. Alphonse turned from his suitcase and gave him a warm smile, that in spite of the young Elric's otherwise perfect textile imitation, definitely did not belong to Edward. The more Al stared at him, the more he felt his mind was being looked through, and he grew nervous.
"What?" he said, irritably.
"You liked Brother, didn't you?" Said Al.
Wrath hated the way Al was always so right about things.
"Wh-what makes you think-... I hated hi-"
"Don't worry. It's not a bad thing." Al said, pleased that the suspicions he had collected over time had proven true.
Wrath sighed defeatedly, and looked away. He really didn't like to be reminded of that embarassing little time in his life; the time when the world was so simple, and he had been so dumb. Before the stones, and before the homunculi, and before things had been so damned complicated, he hadn't understood what those new strange feelings meant, but he was happy about them. He had been happy about most everything. He bet that the 'First Crush' most people went on so fondly about hadn't been nearly as complex as it had for him.
Without a word, Al drew closer, and pressed his forehead against the boy's, lifting a gloved hand to his cheek. Rather than rejecting it as he would have wanted to, Wrath leaned into the unbidden touch, savoring the relief he found from the simple idea of not being rejected.
"I may not be like my brother," Al said, taking up Wrath's fist against his chest, "But I hope you can accept me as myself."
Wrath just nodded and embraced him.