Frog
He has been sitting motionless for at least ten minutes now, she realises as she turns to look at him, drying her hair with an already damp towel. He is perched on the edge of the bank: wet hair clinging to his neck and soaking his collar, trousers rolled up to his knees, dangling his feet in the river and watching the cool water flow by with a focused concentration.
"Al?" she calls over to him.
"Ssh," he says, barely audible, breathless with excitement and still not moving an inch.
She frowns, puzzled. "What is it?" she asks, quieter now.
"Frog," he whispers.
Moving slowly, she shuffles across to kneel beside him. "Where?"
"My foot," he replies.
She leans out over the water to get a closer look and spots it: a small, grey-green frog, about the length of her thumb, perched contentedly on Al's right foot, which he is holding breathlessly still in the water. The creature does not acknowledge her arrival, but continues to stare fixedly at Al's ankle with huge unblinking golden eyes.
"It sort of looks like Ed," she whispers, and his concentration is shattered: he collapses into laughter. The frog appears affronted, leaps into the water and vanishes instantly.
"I'm sorry," she says, but he shakes his head.
"It's all right. It was only a frog."
"…It did look like Ed, didn't it?"
"A little," he says, chuckling, "except greener."
"And cuter."
He laughs again.
She sighs, and lies back onto the bank. "I'm still wet," she says after a while, "but I can't be bothered to get dry just yet."
"Your clothes are damp, anyway."
She gazes up at the sky, narrowing her eyes against the bright sunlight, as he pulls his feet out of the water and begins to dry them on a towel.
"I love you," she says suddenly.
And the air goes utterly still.
"Winry?"
"Hmm?"
"You've never said that before."
"Mmm," she acknowledges. "I just wanted to tell you, that's all."
He is silent for a few more moments, rolling the legs of his trousers down thoughtfully, before folding the towel up and setting it to one side.
"…Winry?"
"Hmm?"
Then he kisses her.
They arrive home a while later, holing their crumpled towels under their arms. Pinako raises an eyebrow at them (hours late!) and opens her mouth to berate them- but then she notices their quiet elated smiles and their interlocked fingers and their frequent sidelong glances at each other, and she decides in that moment not to comment.
Author's notes: Summer has graced us British folk with its presence, bringing along such beautiful weather that I was quite unexpectedly inspired to write. What an oasis of genuine creativity in the desert of school work. It also doesn't hurt that frogs are my favorite animals.
Tomorrow marks my official last day of lessons at school. Next week I begin my exams for the qualifications I've been studying for all this time, after which- further education! Suffice to say, I'm in a whirlwind of emotions right now, which goes some way towards explaining why I'm telling you all this. Anyway- enjoy, review if you have the time, share the love...