Colours

by agrajagthetesty

He always closes his eyes as they kiss, as if afraid to see her face so close to his own, as if the reality will be lost if he does... A series of AlWin drabbles and short oneshots. Rated T just in case. All released chapters are K rated so far.

23. Doorway

Doorway

Ed is certain that both of them would hate him for it, but he can't help but feel amused by the mixed-up nature of their bedroom. On one side of the bed, a cluttered bedside table, covered with various pieces of metal, ranging from tools and bits of machinery to basic silver jewellery. A toolbox under the bed. A calendar, with every box crammed full of appointments and always covered with a hasty, wandering shorthand script. A dressing table, with pieces of paper all over it: hand-written letters torn hastily open, sheets of loose scrap notepaper covered in the same writing; but with pride of place given to a chipped, sky-blue vase filled with slightly wilting tulips. On the other side of the bed, a clean bare dressing table containing only a lamp and a glass of water, fresh every day. A stack of books under the bed. A notice board, barely visible beneath the photographs, arranges precisely at right-angles and all labelled, with date and location written carefully in a neat rounded handwriting on the back. A desk, with a pile of tatty, typed, official-looking documents- mostly still sealed- on one side, and another pile, this one of notebooks containing regular rows of writing, on the other; and with another photograph, this one framed, dominating the centre.

Ed chuckles, standing in the doorway and observing the contrast. It is probably better that they never discover how funny he finds this. He has a suspicion that his observations would offend them- not to mention how freaked out they would be if they found out that he has been examining their room.

But Ed's main reason for keeping silent is that his interest, and his laughter, would just be so difficult to explain.

Author's notes: Not my best. Not by a long shot. DX

Exams are here. Joy of joys. -waves flags in celebration- My free time is divided between superfluous revision, massaging the muscles in my writing hand, which have all seized up with cramp already, and sitting hopefully at my desk, pen in hand, fanfiction notebook open at a blank page in front of me, and head entirely empty. I'm sorry. . . My brain space is all occupied at the moment. . . I even had a nightmare about my French written, and woke up screaming "YOU HAVE TO AGREE THE PAST PARTICIPLE WITH THE C.O.D WHEN USING THE PERFECT TENSE!!!"

. . .No. Really.