Roy had grown up in a household of dominant women. From his aunt all the way down to his adoptive sisters, these women spoke their minds, took no bullshit from anyone, and didn't really care who knew it. By the time he left home to study alchemy at the age of 18, he knew exactly how to handle outspoken, boisterous women; let them talk, and agree whenever possible. He wasn't sure what type of women (or, really, the type of people) he'd be encountering in this new, small town, but surely he would be prepared.
As soon as he encountered Riza Hawkeye for the first time, however, he knew almost immediately that she wasn't anything he could have prepared for.
She was the exact opposite of the type of women he'd lived with all his life - she was shy, soft-spoken, a girl with a light step whose footsteps he sometimes had to strain to hear and eyes that always betrayed her emotions, something he figured she must not have been aware of with how many times she would reassure him she was fine when her gaze told a different story. The first few days he was there, Roy tried not to take is personally - after all, she was three years his junior; it was possible she felt intimidated by this older, new person in her house. As those days turned into weeks, which soon turned into one full month, however, and she was still displaying this meekness, the dark haired boy had to face the facts - this was just her personality. He honestly hadn't wanted that to be true, not because he didn't like her (despite how quiet she was, he found her presence refreshing, and she really did give off an aura of sweetness that made Roy just want to pick her up and hug her), but because it forced him out of his comfort zone when it came to interacting with girls. Where he could be rough with his sisters, he had to apply a softer approach with Riza; she was demure when they would've been bold, and Roy had to learn to account for that.
Just when he thought he had this girl all figured out, she decided to throw him a curve-ball just four months into his stay at the Hawkeye household.
Riza Hawkeye did, indeed, have a side of her that was far different than the one she'd presented all this time - the way she showed this, though, was also different than how her house-guest was used to (leave it to her to still be contrary, even when Roy was discovering a common ground between her and his sisters).
She showed it in how her eyes seemed to come alive when Roy would tease her, almost like she wanted to retort with an equally playful comment, only for her mouth to twitch ever so slightly as if she were literally biting her tongue to keep from responding. She would hesitate for a moment before responding, her words always coming out like water even though her eyes blazed like fire just a few moments before. Of course, there were times that some lukewarm comments would come from her; not exactly cool, but still not blazing hot, and it was those replies that made him wonder just why she seemed to choose her words so carefully, why she was so reluctant to join in on the playful banter.
He soon found out the hard way.
It was an argument he wasn't meant to hear; he'd left earlier that day to run some errands for Riza, who he knew was still fighting off the last remnants of a nasty cold and who he wanted to help out. Roy could only guess they'd thought he would be gone longer (or maybe this argument had been raging since he left, he'd never know), and he came in just in time to hear a voice coming from Master Hawkeye's bedroom that he'd never heard raised, that he'd thought he'd never hear raised like that.
Riza's.
He couldn't really make out what she was saying, and he wasn't about to move from his spot in the downstairs living room to find out, but he could tell just how completely frustrated she was by tone and volume alone. That was the first time he found himself frozen in fear by the sound of the younger Hawkeye's voice, a fear that mostly sprouted from concern over the girl's well-being.
A concern that only grew when her voice was suddenly cut off by a loud thud, quickly followed by a voice he'd heard raised too many times for his liking (although it was usually directed at him after messing up an important lesson) - Master Hawkeye.
Roy, like with the younger Hawkeye, couldn't make out exactly what his teacher was saying, but a few key words and phrases came through loud and clear - 'stupid girl', 'worthless', 'how dare you speak to me like that'. However the argument had started (a hole in this situation that Riza would never fill in for him, even well into their adulthood), Master Hawkeye's temper had ended it, and it was just a few minutes later that the door to his bedroom was opened. Riza emerged from it, her eyes obviously filled with tears even from where Roy stood and one of her hands rubbing the back of her head. While her legs were walking her towards her bedroom door, her eyes found themselves darting to exactly where the young alchemy student stood, and she froze completely as her face took on a myriad of expressions - shock was first, followed soon by realization, before pure shame and embarrassment finally took hold, those emotions coating her face like pancake makeup. A hundred different questions and phrases of comfort swam around in his head, and he easily could have snatched one and made it leave his lips, but he found that...impersonal somehow. Anyone could have told her she would be OK, anyone could ask her what happened, and while he wanted to be the one to do both, Roy wasn't sure if Riza would believe it. Her expression, after all, told him that she didn't want to talk about it, and that she didn't believe in that moment that she would really be OK.
She didn't want pity, he realized. She wanted to be understood, for someone to acknowledge that she'd just been hurt by someone who was supposed to care about her too much to want to lay a finger on her and that she had someone who would be there for her, to listen.
Never breaking his gaze from her's, Roy walked up the stairs to reach her, a pang of sadness going right into his heart at the sound of her breath hitching as he lifted his hand towards her, like she was expecting him to hurt her, too.
Without a word, his hand gently took the one Riza had on the back of her head, holding it a few moments longer than was needed before letting it fall to her side. His own hand soon took up the task of cradling her head, his fingers lightly running over the bump that was already forming, and he hoped his gaze communicated everything he wanted to put into words, but simply didn't trust the strength of his own voice to say.
A grunt of surprise left Roy when Riza suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle, his hands lifting up slightly before settling back down onto her body, one still holding firm to the injury on her head like he was trying to protect it (and, by extension, Riza herself) from further harm.
It was that moment that made Roy realize why Riza's tongue was always so placid, why she never dared to let loose any quips she might have.
Talking back had the consequences of verbal abuse, of being literally pushed around by anyone who might see that as a solid punishment, and she didn't dare risk anyone having the same temperament as her father.
AN: This really feels like I left it off on a cliffhanger, and I kinda did, but I really have no way of giving this a solid ending at the moment. It's already much longer than I ever thought it would be; I feel like adding anything more would be overkill. If I ever get the inspiration, I might make some kind of continuation to this, but we'll definitely have to see. I also didn't expect to have this update up this soon, but that can happen. I plan on trying to get at least one one-shot added to this collection a month from now on, so barring any sudden boughts of inspiration, I'll see you in December! Hope you enjoyed, and reviews are highly appreciated!