Author's Note: Whoa, an update posted right after the last one! Is this abnormality or what?! Anyway, so at first I meant for this to be kind of serious and introspective, but then it ended being introspective and fluffy. Oh well; enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Cold Hands

For a man of fire, Roy Mustang had awfully cold hands. Granted, he felt the spark of heat as it would quickly expel from his fingertips, and the lingering tingle of his inner alchemist embers as his blood surged—or maybe it was just the heat of his blood causing the sensation.

But once the fire left his hands, he was left with a shocking cold. It was the reason why he sometimes wore his alchemist gloves without needing to use alchemy; their symbolism of warmth gave him slight comfort. Even though his hands remained cold and a bitter reminder of what they've done, when they warmed he tended to occupy better thoughts.

Coldness seeped through his hands as he stood by the frosting window, staring down at the Headquarters' courtyard. He considered taking his gloves out of his drawer and pulling them on, if only out of habit. But he had begun weaning himself off the dependence on such material items, as he now depended on something—er, someone—more tangible.

"Hawkeye, come here." As he spoke his breath formed jagged circles on the glass. He didn't bother turning around; he instead waited for her soft footsteps to come closer and stop behind him.

"Sir?"

"There's a problem with the heating in this room."

"Well because of energy reductions, we have to make due with the limited heat this building allots. Would you like me to find a candle for you, sir?"

Roy heard the laughter in Riza's voice and smirked. "Are you somehow mocking me for staying so late in this damned office?"

Riza came around and stood next to him. "You were the one who decided that a nap proved beneficial for your work ethic today."

Roy sighed and turned his body towards her. "I don't mind staying late. It's just that my hands are really cold."

She looked at his pout and smiled. "That can be solved." Before Roy said anything else, she unbuttoned her overcoat and stepped closer to him. He needed no further instruction and deftly slid his hands under her coat and jacket, subsequently pulling her closer.

Riza craned her neck up to narrow her eyes at him. "I don't understand how you have such cold hands," she commented.

Roy shrugged. "Lack of blood flow? And you're the one with the cold feet."

He felt Riza start to move backwards so he linked his fingers and kept her from leaving.

"Would you like me to get the candle?" she threatened. He chuckled and ducked his head to briefly press his lips against hers.

"Body heat is the primary way of surviving the cold. You should know that, Lieutenant."

Riza rolled her eyes, but made no other movement other than leaning her head under his chin. "You still have work to finish."

"I still have cold hands."