027. Dependency

He watched her carefully, dark eyes narrowed as she went about her daily tasks, more than likely ignoring his watchful eyes. He knew there was a high chance she could feel him staring at her, but Riza Hawkeye had always been a woman to pick and choose when she was going to scare the living day lights out of him. She had been like that since they were kids.

Once, he had sat at the kitchen table and stared at her long and hard while she shuffled about preparing dinner, brushing her bangs from her face every once in a while as she slaved over the large pot on the stove. He hadn't uttered a word and since he never caught her glimpse back, he assumed she was too absorbed in her task to take notice to his company. Roy had studied her movements, how she seemed to complete every small task without a cookbook, hopping up on a stepping stool to gather ingredients high from reach. He took that moment to realize he never really had been asked by her to take things from high shelves and he was certain that there was a good three inch difference in height between the two. Then again, Riza had never been one to ask for help.

"Riza-chan?" Stiffening slightly at the sound of her name, Roy watched as she slowly relaxed and continued dumping contents into the pot. She must have really not known he had been there. Or at least hadn't expected him to speak.

"Yes, Mustang-san?" Rolling his eyes at the formality, the young teen had propped his elbows up on the table and chin in his palms, still watching her steady movements.

"Who taught you how to cook?" There was a pause in the blonde's movements before she proceeded.

"I watched my mother a bit before she passed and taught myself." She answered and momentarily glanced back at him, eyeing him expectantly. "Why, do you have a problem with my cooking?" Sitting up straight, Roy raised his palms in front of him defensively and shook his head.

"Hardly!" Relaxing slightly when she once again turned her back to him, Roy smiled slightly. "I was just curious. I've never seen sensei cook before."

"I don't really think father knows how." Roy cocked his head to the side.

"I'm certain he can cook basic meals. It's survival." A hum was heard from Riza that could have been taken as a knowing laugh if you listened carefully.

"Do you know how to cook?" she questioned. Roy thought about the times he had been shooed out of the kitchen by his sisters.

"Sorta," He offered. He watched as Riza shook her head in a seemingly knowing manner.

"My father depended on my mother to provide him with meals. He never really had to practice much himself. When he did try it was never very successful." Her voice lowered some. "It's my job to uphold my mother's position and keep him with proper nourishment, especially since he's too busy with his work to do it for himself." Roy had sat in silence for the remainder of the time watching the young girl cook in silence. She had spoken as if her father depended on her more than she depended on him.

"Maybe one day I'll cook for you." He blurted out, cheeks becoming hot when he saw the calculating look the girl was now sending his way. She had eyed him for a moment before smiling slightly and turning back.

"Maybe."

Riza Hawkeye was never one to ask for help. She never really seemed to depend on anyone. Everyone happened to depend on her. From her childhood into adulthood. She kept her father going to the best she could, had kept soldiers safe during Ishbal with the pull of her trigger from, kept one Roy Mustang on track, and his men in order. When she wasn't around, things had always seemed out of the ordinary. The men always thought they could slack off, but felt awkward whenever they didn't feel a disapproving glare sent their way. Fuery had once commented it was hard to slack off when there wasn't someone to scold them.

So now, here Roy Mustang sat, trying to figure out how the woman he had known for most of his life could have spent the entirety of her existence being the one depended on but never needing to depend on others. Was she really the prime example of strong, independent woman?

"Sir?" Stiffening, the Flame Alchemist blinked as he noticed the female looking back at him expectantly. "Is something wrong?" Letting out an awkward cough, Roy promptly shook his head.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about something." At this, the blonde sniper stared at him mutely before rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"I see… Well it would be great if you would finish your paper work. There's some important documents in there that the Furher thought would interest you and I'd like to get home on time tonight." He watched as she brushed a lock of her newly shortened hair from her face, catching a glimpse of the ring on her finger and smiling slightly to himself.

"Riza-chan?" She stiffened at the sound of his tone and glanced over her shoulder wearily.

"Mustang-san?" she asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"You take such good care of me. It's time I take care of you." Riza raised an eyebrow. "How about I make dinner tonight?" he suggested.

"You're up for cooking tonight?" He let out a laugh and pushed himself from his seat, walking over and kissing the top of her forehead.

"A man should always make it known his wife can depend on him whenever necessary, even if it means cooking a simple meal." Shaking her head, Riza finished filing the last of the contents in her arms.

"Maybe."