Chapter 2: Exposure to Weakness

I looked around the room a second time and saw my suit cases lock was fixed. I set the note down and walked back over to the bed to sit down, thinking about what happened probably hours ago. I have no idea how long I've been out. I can't believe I broke down like that, and in front of Mustang no less! I was like a weak child in his hands. He couldn't actually care, could he? No, he's probably going to use this as black mail to hold over my head so I'm more obedient. I guarantee he had a hidden camera or something... Then again, he didn't actually know I'd be back or that I was such a mess, did he? Inhaling deeply, I sighed and got back up. I walked over to the dresser which had my coat and jacket folded neatly on to it and picked up the note to re-read it. When I finished, I folded it and put it in the back cover of my journal that was buried in my coat pocket. I opened my suitcase and grabbed a long sleeve shirt and a pair of gray jeans.

After dressing, I slowly and carefully made my way over to the door and opened it just enough to poke my head through. I looked around, observing every detail of the hall while listening for any form of noise. It was two stories high, or at least I'm assuming such by looking over at the staircase. I stepped out of the room and closed it behind me, heading down stairs. I stood at the foot of the stair case, one hand on the railing and the other in my pocket. I scanned the room, looking at everything and comparing it to how it doesn't fit Mustang's personality really. It was a nice, clean, and unusually organized house: There was a fireplace with a big comfy sofa and a reclining chair placed delicately before it, his kitchen and dining room were one room, and he even had a booth table in his kitchen with a window! I walked around, studying each room. I came across the study and examined his small library, which had a very nice selection of what looked like porn (not surprised). I snooped around his desk, work he took home, bills, and other boring items. I'm having a really hard time accepting Mustang is actually average. I was expecting something like a cluttered mess, sex toys and edible lube hidden in random spots here and there, and old Xing take out on a coffee table accompanied by a floozy passed out on the ground. But no, none of that.

I headed back upstairs to do some more investigating. Maybe his room is full of that crap? The first two doors were a guest room and a bathroom. The next one was the one I was staying in... that sounds strange. I'm living with my boss. I'm living with Mustang. Womanizer of Central, Führer Bastard, the infamous Flame Alchemist. What have I gotten myself into?! I opened another door and saw a pile of dirty clothes and a messy bed. The bathroom door was ajar and the light was on. Dresser drawers were rummaged through and not put back while the night stand had a picture frame and a few envelopes. I tip toed over to the side table and picked up the picture. I stared at it for a while. There was Hawkeye, Havoc, Falman, Fury, Breda, Huges (who was shoving one of his million pictures of Elisia in Roy's face), Alphonse, Me, and half of Armstrong. I gawked at the sight. Mustang didn't seem to be the sentimental type. Interesting. I set the frame back were I found it. Snooping over to the bathroom, I peered around the door before opening it all the way. I have to say, the man likes blue. Blue shower curtains, toilet cover, shampoo, razors, towels, ect. I turned off the light that was left on, closed the door, and headed for the door that led out of the room. Then as I passed the pile of dirty clothes, I felt something squish between my exposed toes. A disgusting shiver ran up my spine and I looked down to see a half empty, knocked over box of rice. "Well there's the old take out..." I grabbed the nearest wash cloth and wiped it off, tossing the rag into the pile of dirty clothes. "Were you looking for left-overs? I think this would taste better." a deep voice said behind me as I heard the door creak open. I jumped out of my skin. "W-what? No... eh. I just stepped..." I panicked, not even knowing what I was saying. All I knew was I couldn't make a complete, logical sentence. "Right. May I ask what your doing in my room, Fullmetal?" He's calling me Fullmetal again. "Uh... I need to use the bathroom!" I smiled, trying to change the subject. I brushed past him quickly almost knocking what was in his hands on the floor before being stopped by his words. "Wrong way." I quickly made a U-turn and headed the other way. "I know." I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me. I am such a moron. I looked in the mirror and saw my face was still as tired looking and puffy as it had been before from all the crying I had done this morning.

I headed down stairs and saw Mustang sitting at his dining room table, eating what looked like more Xing take out. "I'm not a very talented cook, so I hope this will be fine." he said with a half chewed mouthful of rice. "I'm not hungry." I replied, sitting across from him. My stomach growled loudly. I hadn't had anything to eat since I left Resembool. "Your stomach says otherwise. Eat." Mustang handed me two different boxes and a cup of sauce. Sweet and Sour Chicken and Pork Fried Rice. "Thanks, but I'm not in the mo-" He threw a pair of chopsticks at me, effectively cutting me off. "Don't make me feed you." He glared at me. "Traitor." I mumbled as I poked my stomach and quickly grabbed the chopsticks, slowly beginning to eat. "Whats bothering you?" I looked up with a mouthful of chicken. "What are you talking about? I'm fine!" I faked a big smile. "You were crying like a child, asking me not to leave you alone in your sleep. Something is definitely wrong, especially when you don't respond to height jokes." He set down his food and stared at me intently. I dropped the chopsticks in my food. "Careful Mustang, you're starting to sound like you give a rats ass." I looked away from him and stared at my lap. "Well maybe I do. What else am I supposed to do when someone I care deeply for is hurting and won't tell me why?" his words echoed in my mind for a minute or so. "I want to kill myself..." I could feel the tears coming back, but I was able to hold them back for now. I heard him get up from his seat and felt him grab me as he pulled me out of my seat and to the sofa where he proceeded to throw me into the soft leather.

The only thing lighting the room was the fireplace and the dim kitchen light over the table that seeped around one of the walls. I looked up at Mustang's face. He looked like an abused puppy who just got kicked in the face. "Why?" his voice cracked and he looked as if he was going to cry. I just stared as he moved from his seat and knelt down next to me. "Tell me." He was angry now. I waited a minute or so before answering him. "I ruined his life before it could start... I took everything away from him," I couldn't even recognize my own voice. It sounded so foreign to me, "It was all for such a selfish reason and he's paying for my foolishness... He didn't even want to do it either..." I felt the tears begin to fall and covered my face. "And he doesn't hate me for it but he should! He should want to beat me to a pulp for taking his life away! For taking away everything! Every experience, good or bad...everything! I don't want him to leave but I feel as if he should. I don't deserve him as a brother. My mistake has cost him so much and me so little... and I can't act on these feelings I've recently realized I had for... I can't because Al can't do anything! Especially if he ever developed a crush or a desire for something as simple as another human touch..." I felt strong arms sit me up and wrap around me gently. I stopped crying by then. I tried pushing him away but couldn't. It was like all my strength left at once. Part of me wanted this and the other was screaming at me to fight him away. I looked up at him. He had a look in his eyes, a mix of sadness and hurt. I stopped fighting. He looked as if his heart was ripped out and served to him on a platter. "Edward..." He leaned down and pressed his forehead on mine. I closed my eyes as he hugged me tighter.