Author's Note:- Wowee wow. How long has it been since I last uploaded anything? Way too long. Oh well, this isn't much, but I suppose it's a start.
Disclaimer:- I neither own nor claim to own FMA (although I wish I bloody did)
Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Pat… Pat… Pat…
Rain.
It pitter-patters against the small window, echoing of the clear pane and in all around the room. Long, clawing shadows of winter stripped trees reach over the room, hovering over him, threatening him.
They know.
The shadows, the night, he can hide nothing from them. When he dreams, it is not of this warm, beautiful creature sleeping peacefully beside him. It is of someone else, someone smaller, louder and more unabashed than anyone he has ever known.
Sure, he feels guilt at what he is thinking, what he is feeling. When she kisses him, he still reciprocates, but with less vigour than he used to, and his mind is elsewhere. She doesn't know. She thinks he is stressed out by his job. She tells him to relax; rubs his shoulders and kisses his neck and murmurs all the things that he wants to hear not from her, but from this other person.
He's ashamed. What could that person possibly have that she doesn't? Could they possibly offer him anything more than she already has?
Unlikely.
She has given him the moon and the earth. She has moved mountains and parted oceans for him. She still would, and much as he loves her, his heart just isn't in it anymore. But what can he do? He doesn't want to hurt her, though he may be hurting her even more by lying. If he told her the truth though, she wouldn't understand. She could never understand. No one would. That kind of thing just isn't acceptable in society. People like that don't exist, or, if they do, they do it very quietly.
If his superiors were to find out- hell, if anybody were to find out…
He loves her, but he doesn't know this love. He doesn't understand it; there's no basis, no foundation. It makes no sense to him. Not that the other makes any omre sense. He understands that one even less. And he hates not to know what he's facing, hates not to know his options.
He closes his eyes tight and wraps his arms tighter around her. She mumbles in her sleep, but doesn't wake. He wonders briefly what it would be like to hold that other person, to sleep next to them night after night like this. Would he be happy with that?
Possibly, but it doesn't bear thinking about. Thinking about it only intensifies the feelings. He wants to quell them, quash them, scrunch them up into a ball and toss them away. But he can't.
Because he loves Riza Hawkeye.
But as much as he loves Riza, he just can't wash Edward Elric off his skin.
Fin
O.o Oh my...R&R s' il vous plait.