Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me.
A/N: I've never really had the motivation to start a drabble set, much less write them, even though I think they're the easiest way to keep inspiration at bay, as well as the fastest way of putting two people together, :) . This is yet another theme: #13, Betrayal, which so happens to be the title for lack of a better one. Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm so glad you guys don't think I'm butchering Royai with a blunted sword.
Betrayal
Betrayal.
It was the only thing Riza could logically attach to the horrible, horrible action committed against her. She didn't—couldn't—understand why she was so befallen with resistance against all contriteness, protection, respect, and most of all, care she had put forth in this for all these years.
She was Riza Hawkeye, sure, but that didn't mean she was any less a person susceptible of such treachery, especially if she was caught completely off guard. Her military training did not cover the basis of treason when the one committing it was someone she thought she knew like the back of her hand.
It was unsettling, knowing that this much burden had now tumbled onto her shoulders, weighing her down and causing her poised and adept abilities to inherit a worrisome lagging. She herself withdrew into shock at the amount of time she had to prepare herself for such a calamity as this; there was virtually no time to fold her mind and outward reaction to a semblance of First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye normalcy.
Roy Mustang entered the office and the sting of sedition abounded Riza's heart to greater leaps, and she suddenly knew.
She pressed her hand against her chest as if she could force the pounding to a lesser degree of beating, or to halt it completely. It was ironic; she was the commanding officer of her body, yet the silly insurgent disguising as her heart proved her leadership skills paltry.
"Traitor," she whispered hopelessly, finally conceding to the one thing she couldn't forbear. Her heart was uncontrollable.
"Hawkeye, are you alright? Have you fallen ill?" Roy asked, leaning down to inspect the grounds for Riza's continued press, bowed head, and flushed cheeks.
Riza dropped her hand—which set off an even faster pace beneath her uniform jacket—and gave her Colonel a complacent smile. "I'm fine, sir."
He smiled at her—warmly, for she was the first person he came into contact today with and required no false pretenses whatsoever—and then straightened, continuing to his own desk.
Riza sighed. Oh well, she thought, clasping shaky hands together as her newfound discovery unveiled in her muddy brain, if you can't beat them, join them.