Greetings, true believers! This is your humble author, coming to your once more. This is my first Full Metal Alchemist fic, and I have selected to do a pure mush fic set around one of my favorite mush songs. As usual, disclaimers apply, I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or its characters, or even the song, which belongs to the late and great Luther Vandross. With that, I bid you to read on, and remember the lesson to be learned from this song for all your lives!
A warm summer breeze swept across the open fields. The grass swayed under its soft caress, sending ripples across the landscape. The wind's melodious voice echoed like the laughter of children or the soft sigh of a woman in her lover's embrace. It swirled around the small cottage resting at the top of a hill, and swept through the open window on the second floor to flutter the sheets over the girl laying in bed.
Winry groaned and rolled over on her side, trying to fall asleep. She knew few things more frustrating than the nights when she knew she needed sleep, but her body simply refused to shut down and allow her to rest. Why couldn't she summon this energy for those all night repair sessions that she had to pull whenever Ed visited?
Ed…
She groaned, and then buried her head under her pillow, hoping it might insulate her from that name, the very name the wind seemed to be whispering to her. But every little pulse of her heart seemed to sound like his laughter. And the blackness that engulfed her when she closed her eyes opened up to reveal the warm gold of his eyes gazing from within her consciousness. She sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants
But it tears her apart 'cause nothing's for her heart
He pulls in late to wake her up with a kiss goodnight
If he could only read her mind, she'd say…
As much as she wanted to deny it, Winry's heart knew better. The reason she couldn't sleep was because she missed him. It had been more than six months since the last time he had paid her and her grandmother a visit. And in all that time he had not given them so much as a single telephone call, not written a single letter. It seemed that all he ever came to them for was repairs to his arm or leg. He never came to spend any holidays with them, never to give her a gift on her birthday, or maybe just to spend a few quiet days away from the hectic life of a State Alchemist.
And why does that bother me so much?
She hated that question, and her lack of an appropriate answer for it. It wasn't like she didn't have any company here. She had plenty of friends who dropped by on a regular basis. She had her grandmother. She had customers who always showed her the utmost appreciation for her work. And they gave her payment that was so much more than just money in the bank. They rewarded her with their warm compliments, their appreciative smiles and contented gazes. Some of them occasionally gave her flowers or a box of candy out of gratitude, or told her that her automail craft was every bit as beautiful as she was. Why couldn't Ed ever do those things?
Buy me a rose, call me from work
Open a door for me, what would it hurt
Show me you love me by the look in your eyes
These are the little things I need the most in my life
Winry's hand tightened on the sheets, and she clenched her jaw in frustration. Would it be so much to ask? All he ever did was say thanks and tear off a check. Didn't he understand that there was so much more to what she did than nuts and bolts?
She strained her mind to remember how many hours she had spent tirelessly working at a frantic pace to supply him with the very best quality. She had devoted so many lost moments of her life to lovingly crafting every single detail. She attentively crafted every square inch of the automail she supplied him with, and all he ever did was make wisecracks. Would it kill him to show a little appreciation?
Winry grunted and then punched her pillow, trying to swallow the lump that she felt building in her throat. Why did it mean so much for Ed to do these things, so much more than for anyone else?
Now the days have grown to years of feelin' all alone
As she sits and wonders if all she's doin' is wrong
'Cause lately she'd try anything just to turn his head
Would it make a difference if she said, if she said…
Buy me a rose, call me from work
Open a door for me, what would it hurt
Show me you love me by the look in your eyes
These are the little things I need the most in my life
Winry thrust her face against her pillow, muffling the sobs that started to groan up out of her throat. Her sparkling tears streaked down her face to stain the sheets. She hadn't realized just how badly she really did miss him.
She felt tormented as she remembered his past visits. And worse still, she remembered the few times he had thrown her one of those appreciative glances, or had smiled in her direction. Did that mean he really did appreciate all she did for him? If he did, then why couldn't he ever just say it?
She tormented herself like this for several hours, remembering the nights she had spent without sleep trying to finish his automail on schedule, or all the times she had pulled blanket over him as she slept on the couch downstairs. Had all of it been for nothing? Was there really no point to all this anguish she was causing herself?
And the more that he lives the less that he tries
To show her the love that he holds inside
And the more that she gives the more that he sees
This is the story of you…and me
Winry sighed when she felt the soft smoothness against her cheek. She smiled and gave a soft hum as she imagined just who's hand it could be.
"Winry…" a soft, and all too familiar voice whispered.
She opened her eyes, the blur of sleep clouding her vision. She sat up, and as her eyesight began to restore itself, she was able to make out the red coat, the familiar pony tail hair, the soft golden eyes, and that same mischievous smile.
"Ed?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing…" her words died in her throat when she saw the look in those eyes, and the way that smile changed when she spoke his name. There was a layer to him now that she had never seen before, and it made her heart skip a beat. She saw herself reflected in those eyes, and realized that he was feeling the same exact things that she was.
He held up the flower that he had been caressing her cheek with as she slept; a single rose, as red as her cheeks were staring to burn.
"Ed…I don't know what to…" she was silenced when he held the rose against her lips, her pulse trembling as though some sort of spark was passing from his body, through that flower, and into her.
So I bought you a rose on the way home from work
To open the door to a heart that I hurt
And I hope you notice this look in my eyes
'Cause I'm gonna make things right for the rest of your life
And I'm gonna hold you tonight, tonight
Do all those little things for the rest of your life
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime passed between them in a single gaze into each other's eyes, he moved the rose from her lips and leaned forward to replace it with his own. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a heartbeat, and then closed as she savored the taste of his loving kiss.
They wound their arms about each other, in a lover's embrace that no sleepless nights could ever interrupt.