A/N: Posting this tonight to celebrate the fact that once again I have internet, now that I am back from my mom's. We are working on it, but in the interim it is a source of many screaming fights and massive bouts of emo-ness on my part. Being poor sucks. I miss my internet! But I will have it this weekend, cause I am house-sitting for Jane Austen Girl for a week while she's in San Fran. Yay! Also posting to celebrate 4th of July - lovely holiday, regardless of the monkey known as the US President. And last summer I missed it because I was in China - we went to some weird-ass Mexican restaurant in Qingdao. But this year my mom and I went to the Corrales parade (fun! excitement! kazoo band!) and my dad and I went to a party. And so, I give you angst. Very much angst with semi-psycho Roy. I like the timing in this one.
Disclaimer: I own a ton of illegal fireworks we bought on the reservation. Maybe I can use them to lay siege to Japan and demand ownership of FMA. Or maybe not.
Satisfying
An hour after Ed stormed out, Roy stood in the living room, Ed's bitter parting words repeating themselves in his head. Then he looked around, and suddenly hated it, hated Ed's books, Ed's furniture, Ed's photographs, and most of all the mirrors that lied, reflecting tears he knew weren't there.
It took less than a minute to reduce the contents of the room to wreckage. He sat amidst splintered wood and broken glass and blood, thinking that the pain in his knuckles as the mirrors shattered was more satisfying than crying.
At work, Ed didn't ask about his bandaged hands.
A/N: Happy 4th! Please review?