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Things I Don't Want to Realize
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Riza's hand moved the cloth silently down the shaft of the rifle, her chocolate colored eyes hard and focused. Roy sat beside her, fingering his gloves carefully. The harsh desert sunset caressed their pale shadows with delicate tendril, the dying sun illuminating their ghostly shadows.
"I don't want to have to do this anymore." Roy's voice broke the silence and glanced at the woman sitting next to him. "I don't want to wake up each morning and realize that I have to go out and kill these people." His voice was flat as he spoke, sincerity the only emotion in his voice. "This is the path you chose, isn't it?" She replied in the same tone. "Remember why you don't want to realize these things, remember what you are working towards."
His eyes lingered on her for a moment, and then returned to the fabric he held between his fingers. War never allowed much time for conversation.