Author's Note: Kind of an odd first two chapters, eh? O.o Anyways, this chapters has lyrics from Cry by Mandy Moore. This chapter is more or less back to the realm of normality. More or less.. is it normality, or normalcy? Normal-ness? I don't know. And my internet's too slow to check. (: Library computers; FAIL.
THINGS LEFT UNSAID
Because the things left unsaid were, more often than not, the most important things. The things left unsaid, like so many things between them.
CHAPTER THREE
eyes
--
I'll always remember; it was late afternoon
It lasted forever; and ended too soon
You were all by yourself
Staring up at a dark gray sky
I was changed
In places no one would find
All your feelings so deep inside
It was then that I realized
That forever was in your eyes
The moment I saw you cry
He liked it because every sip was a swim in her eyes. She, who was the object of his adoration and the centre of his suffering. She who drove him to accomplish that which would include overthrowing the entire foundation of their government. Helping Amestris was not the reason he fought this battle, no, he was not that selfless, nor was he that idealistic. But if she would see him in different eyes, he would make himself into whoever she wanted to see in him.
She was the one who echoed every one of his footsteps, and if you listened carefully, sometimes it seemed that she would be the one stepping just a fraction of a second before he did.
So if every drink of the burningly amber liquid meant he got to see her eyes just for that one moment, he would happily get drunk. Maes was gone, but he had her. She was in the swishing liquid, in every gulp, scorching its way down his throat. So even when she was not physically there, she would always be with him. He simply had to pick up the bottle, pour it into one of the glass cups, and stare at the drink while it ran delightedly down his throat.
Mr. Hawkeye had always disapproved of the drinking of alcohol. But he was gone. Mr. Hawkeye's eyes had never been the same as Riza's. Her eyes which had always been lit, always filled with fire much more powerful than the alchemic one he wielded. And then there were Mr. Hawkeye's eyes, cold and warm at the same time, loving in his own cruel way. Roy had always felt that Mr. Hawkeye had not wanted to be cold shouldered like he was, the circumstances had pushed him to do so.
He would not have been the Alchemist he was were not for the days Mr. Hawkeye had not let him eat nor sleep for days at a time until he finished a particularly perplexing array, and Riza would not have been the picture perfect soldier, tight lipped and logical had it not been for the times her father had lashed her with his words until she looked away, fire eyes moistening enough just so that Roy could see.
Then there were the other days. Once, one of the townsfolk had called Mr. Hawkeye, telling him that Riza had left for the Hawkeye residence an hour ago when the snow started coming down harshly. Upon receiving the phone call, Mr. Hawkeye had immediately grabbed Riza's jacket, Roy's own, Roy, and dashed out the door. When they finally found Riza two hours later, it was in the middle of the forest between the grand Hawkeye residence and the town. Riza, being small at the time, had been up to her waist in snow and blue to the tips of her ears because of the cold.
She had been immediately settled into the crook of Mr. Hawkeye's arm, and Roy, (who had been the one to spot Riza under piles of snow) had been allowed to squirm into his sensei's other arm, curled up beside Riza on Mr. Hawkeye's thick arms. Both of them being young, it had not been much hard work for Mr. Hawkeye to carry them back to the residence.
Upon arriving at the house, they had been promptly dumped into the residence's one bath tub. Being young, they had been delighted in being able to share the bubble bath together. (They had never understood why Mr. Hawkeye had never let them shower together). Riza had happily given her father a hug.
An hour later, Mr. Hawkeye had returned to his ways, keeping Roy awake until the sun sank and rose again to finish a chapter of an Alchemy book, and had harshly scolded Riza when her fingers slipped from the tray of cookies that she had carried.
On days that were particularly dark, Roy would admit to himself for just a second that the drinks looked more like Mr. Hawkeye's cold eyes than they ever did Riza's.
It was late in September
And I'd seen you before
You were always the cold one
But I was never that sure
You were all by yourself
Staring up at a dark gray sky
I was changed
I wanted to hold you
I wanted to make it go away
I wanted to know you
I wanted to make your everything, all right
I'll always remember.
It was late afternoon; in places no one will find