Terrible Mistake
Winry stands numbly in the shower, water coursing down over her body and pouring through her hair, eyes closed and concentrating on the feeling of warmth coating her skin. She has been there for over half an hour now, trying to wash away her guilt and horror with the hot water and the feeling of relaxation it brings to her bones.
How could she let this happen?
She is ashamed of herself, ashamed of her lack of caution and inhibition, ashamed of the promise to herself that she has broken in a casual moment of stupidity and excess. She didn't want to show her face when she realised what had happened that morning, immediately scuttling off into the bathroom before anyone else woke up, in order to hide from them all. She doesn't want anyone to know, to realise, to work out what she has done. She has decided, futilely, to hide the evidence, and she lurks in the shower for as long as she feasibly can without drowning, or the water turning her permanently into a large, bright pink prune.
She can barely look at herself in the mirror when at last she emerges, no longer able to withstand the heat, which has left scarlet patches of skin across her shoulders and chest. She dresses as quickly as possible to avoid seeing her reflection, pulling on her longest, baggiest trousers and a sweater of a similar shape, in a final desperate attempt to cover herself and hide the terrible mistake she has made.
Unable to conceal herself any longer, she slinks miserably out of the bathroom, hair damp and towel clutched nervously in front of her, and goes cautiously into the kitchen. She stops in the doorway, and gulps. The last person she wants to see right now is sitting innocently at the table with a mug of tea.
Al looks up curiously, and she realises that she must have attracted his attention with the way she stopped so suddenly when she saw him. Damn, damn.
"What is it?" he asks.
She feigns innocence. "What do you mean?"
He gestures in her general direction, and her stomach twists sharply. Has he noticed?
"Your clothes," he says.
Way to be subtle, Winry, her mind says to her. Perhaps she should have worn her normal clothes after all- but they are far too revealing for the way she feels at the moment. She would rather wear something that hides her as much as possible, right now.
But she could hardly expect him not to realise her sudden change of clothing, after all- and now he stands questioningly in front of her, waiting for a response.
Winry's lips part, but barely any sound emerges.
"What is it?" he says, concerned now, seeing the shame and pain in her expression. He moves closer to her, alarmed. "Winry . . ."
She stares up at him, not knowing what to say.
He puts his arms comfortingly around her. "It's alright. Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I promise."
"Al," she mutters into his shirt. "I . . ."
"Yes?" he prompts gently.
She screws up her face, hating herself.
". . . I've put on weight!"
Author's notes: Because I always think up ideas for fics when I'm in the shower.
Not to be rude or anything, but. . . 302 hits? 6 reviews? That kinda sucks. That's not even one review per chapter. Come on, people, I know you can do better than that. I'm working really hard to get these out fast and keep people interested, but I KNOW that some people have favourited or put me on their alert list, and not even left me a note saying that they liked it. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! And I'm not above exposing you to the public. So please review. It really means a lot. You don't want me to start demanding a minimum number of reviews before I publish the next drabble, do you? Because I'm not above that either.
And may I repeat my request for reviews with comments specific to particular drabbles? (Of course, a way to ensure that would be to post them days or even weeks apart from each other. . . FEAR THE THREATENING TONE!)