The Love of a Silent Star
Silent Observer
Chapter Two
The first time I saw the child, he was sitting on a park bench smoking a cigarette. This somewhat surprised me at first, but I had learned too mind my own business, because I didn't really know what was happening in the child's life, so it wasn't my place to tell him what to do. I noticed that someone was watching the blond haired boy. The one watching looked to be older in appearance, but gentler and kinder in the face. He was just standing there, staring, pretty much like I was doing right now.
Ridicules, I thought to myself, so I went over and sat next the blond haired child. I sat about three feet away from him, I folded my legs elegantly, and placed my hands softly on my lap, watching the boy, he was taking gentle puffs at the cigarette as if he had been doing it for years.
I took in every detail of the child, from the expertly braided hair to the neatly trimmed fingernails. He looked to be a person that took pride in keeping everything cleaned and polished on himself, unlike most young boys who didn't give a damn about what there appearance was, or what they looked and dressed like out doors.
The boy did not look more than twelve years of age, but his face said otherwise, eyes that were empty and held nothing in them, lips that did not smile and a face that held no amiability. I relaxed in my seat, feeling the light breeze touch my skin. The child, if he could be called that, wore dark blue jeans that looked to be fresh off the rack, all black sneakers that fit nicely on his feet, and a black long sleeve button up shirt that was cuffed several times up to his elbow. On his arms there were several different small white scars in several places, which I could not tell if they had been self inflicted or by some other individual. His hands were only partly smooth, there were small calluses in several places, but were hard to be seen from a distance, he had a body that looked to have been through a lot.
Right now the boy's cigarette is almost finished, the boy does not seem too notice, but continues to stare off into some un-seen world. I notice the elder boy that had been standing, watching the blonde, was still there, when I made eye contact with him, I saw nothing but hate fill his eyes, and I knew that the boy was jealous of me for some reason, which I did not know why.
"He doesn't like you very much." I hear the blonde say smoothly. His voice was too calm, too impeccable, for someone of his age.
"Why?" I ask, trying to keep this un-seen conversation going.
The boy just sits back, tossing his cigarette into the nearby dirt, and takes out another one and lighting it, he pushes the small packet of cigarettes at me, I shake my head declining them, so he returns the pack to his pocket where a lighter appears in his hand. It is small, the color of silver, with flames decorating both sides of the lighter. It takes the boy two tries too get the new cigarette lighted. He puts his right leg on top of the other, and places his free hand on his black sneaker.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"What's yours?" He asks, his eyes still looking out into that un-seen world.
I smirk at this reply. "Lust." I respond giving him the pleasure of my name. "And yours would be?" I ask him again.
But instead of an answer, I get another question, "Is he still watching us?"
"Yes." I reply.
"Good."
"Why is that good? He looks about ready too kill someone."
"He loves me." This answer takes me by surprise, not that I am against gay relationships, it's just this 'man' child did not look like the type that was made for loving.
"Why does he love you?" I ask.
"I kissed him."
"Then wouldn't that just be considered a form of lust?" I ask, looking again in the other child's direction.
Once again instead of answering my question he says something entirely different, like he had not heard me, "He will do anything for me."
"Is that what he said?"
"Yes. Too some, it may seem odd, that one would do anything for someone, even die, because of a kiss, he calls it love, is that love to you?"
"No I would not callit that,more of an empty desire to want something, until it seems like it is driving one mad."
"Progression of lust, yes?" He asks me.
"Yes." I reply, and when I turn back to look at the silent observer, he is gone.
Author's Note
In this story, Edward and Alphonse are not brothers, Roy and Riza are married, and Alphonse is older than Edward.