Really don't like on it, but worked on it for about five days because I was procrastinating, so I figured I would put it up. This one's for you, Neechan.
---------------
For the first day in weeks, the morning had broke showing that the rain had cleared, relieving sheets of dewy grass brushed with the flax and azure of the heavens, trees opening buds to shyly resume their growth through the seasons.
This is how he saw her when he came for his annual automail checkup; gathering blossoms from the trees, a small yet giddy smile setting on her face, eyes reflecting her calm movements of contentment. A small sigh of warm autumn air tussled her hair and the flowers slipped from her hands like rain, pedals from her blond tresses sliding past her eyes almost like tears - the hues of pale moonlight swooning and spraying the ground with colors.
It was good to be back.
He approached her quietly, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a small hug, murmuring the slightest "Hello" in her ear. She spun and latched herself around his neck, a reply of "Hello yourself. How was Central?" heard against his shoulder.
Age had done no damage to her bright orbs and worn fingers, though her logic had matured in most natures (the occasional whack was still given with her precious wrench).
And like the sun in due time he was gone again, clouds showering salt-less tears over the lands and ridding of Winry's ability to collect buds as they withered away into hiding.
This pattern was inevitable, as she saw it. He was hers, technically, and yet some sort of truth was always separating them, their feelings and understanding, though nothing was different on the outside.
Perhaps she was just reading too hard into things.
She still had the sun on the odd day, reminding her of his flax eyes and golden hair, childhood spots to look at in reminiscence, and the occasional phone call.
And sometimes, he would greet her under the cherry blossom trees, flashing a small smile, avoiding talking of his trip over, and though the unconscious act still hurt time had learned to sew over the wounds and she would live on.
She could live with the barrier between them.
Day by day.
She would.