Edward stood in front of the Rockbell's bulletin board of photographs. It had been so long since he had spent time looking at them. He had even forgotten that some of them existed. Pictures of when he had only two limbs, photos documenting his hair growing out. He smiled when he found of of the three of them, peacefully asleep on Winry's bedroom floor. He took it in his fingers with a deep sigh. Those days were so far away. Even though he purposely abandoned his childhood, he couldn't help but feel a prick of remorse for the solidifying emotions inside him. He only hoped that they would just crumble all together, so he couldn't be bothered with what he could hardly bear to leave behind. His thumb brushed over the corner of the photo where Winry's image was recorded in splashes of absorbed light. His subsequent sigh was cut short by a sleepy yawn and bare footsteps.
"Ed? Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
"Shouldn't you be working on my automail?" He said with an unwitting disdainful twinge.
"I think I deserve a break, Edward." She reciprocated the tone with a slightly more severe expression.
"Do what you want." He abandoned the photo and slouched onto the couch with his hands in his pockets.
"What, Can't sleep?" She said as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"Yeah. Something like that." He unconsciously started rubbing his shoulder port.
"Does your shoulder hurt?"
"Sorta, but it's no big deal."
She left her half-finished glass on the counter, walking over to him. "Any force that could have shattered my automail must have really done a number on your shoulder." She sat next to him. He inched away infinitesimally. Craning from her comforting touch, "Don't be a baby, I'm not gonna hurt you." She placed her hands where flesh met metal. Felling the muscles and the bone underneath. "Ugh. It's all knotted up. You must have been really pushing yourself." Then her hands started press away at his stress. Melding it into a quite lull. The muscles were very dense, what with the weight they had to bear, but there was a gratuitous about of excess scars in the tissue.
"Agh- Winry-" She was tempted to go further. To caress the muscles she saw bulging through the soft fabric. She used to give massages all the time, but she saw with alert eyes that the blush she created, was stronger.
"What? You're going to say no to a massage?" She didn't need to sound offended. She let her hands fall without much consequence. "Whatever. I'll go finish your arm so you can go get more scars." He noticed her slip.
"See you later Ed." She stretched her arms over her head and walked back up the stairs.
Looking back at the photos, he process what had just happened. She should have said 'I'll finish your arm so you can go break it again.' He didn't want to have to accept what that implied. No, she couldn't get too close.
(A/N) This is nothing new. I've written several things similar to this, but, whatever.