Summary: At the right angle, in a line of sight, one might wonder why he never stopped staring at her for so much as a second.
Theme: 043. Wind
Dedication: Chess. Because, let us face it. She can only save it for back alleys, not bedrooms.
Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, Spongebob would have made a guest appearance by now.
Angles
043. Wind
She never questioned much.
"They say the wind make fire stronger. It raises it up, you see." Roy told her, a soft look on his face as the flames rose up in his hand. A young Riza watched, clearly fascinated by the strange phenomenon. He smirked with victory, feeling joy at having impressed the young daughter of the master. Well, not that young. She was almost as old as him, and she wasn't very pretty and girly where she cut her own hair messily despite the protests of many of the maids, who got awfully worried that her father would lose his tempter if he saw that they had allowed her to do something like that. She had not listened, though. She rarely did listen to others, unless she saw reason to. That was one of the first things he learned about her.
His victorious feeling soon disappeared when he looked around though, seeing the master himself standing only a few steps away, watching them closely. The flame in his hand disappeared in a second, changing into a wisp of smoke and nothing else to prove that it had ever even existed. He swallowed down the lump suddenly building in his throat, knowing that unlike with most of the females of the household flashing them a dashing grin would not work with the man before him. Hawkeye was rarely manipulated.
"Mustang, who do you think will make you stronger?" He asked, staring directly at the boy with seemingly deep interest. Roy chewed his bottom lip. Well, there were a lot of things. There was his foster mother, wise and knowing so much about him, even then at fifteen. There was the man who asked the question himself, wise with age and power, intelligent beyond resonable belief but sometimes cruel. Then there was one more person, who really, was probably the most obvious choice of them all.
"Riza." He said, looking at the girl. She stared at him, all wide red-brown eyes and an open mouth of wonder. The older Hawkeye let a small smile slide unto his face, a gentle and strange look of simply knowing. He nodded, a hand raising to his chin in deep thought. Both of the children looked at him, waiting for a reaction to indicate something, to indicate anything even.
"Well then, would you call yourself fire?" He asked, before turning on heel and walking in the opposite direction. The pair watched his retreating back fade as he became closer to the house, soon a small pinpoint in the distance. Riza stared at his back even when Roy finally lost his focus, returning back to do nothing in particular. On the summer days which were not for studying with his teacher, rare as they were, were to be spent writing letters home and talking to Riza about nothing in particular, sitting under the old sycamore tree not far away from the mansion and filling with trivial things, but things that were important nonetheless. Happy memories, full of better times if things ever went wrong.
"No, not unless I have a wind." Roy answered, though to who he was not sure. The man could not hear him. But Riza could, and Riza laughed at his words. Picking up a sycamore leaf, she twirled it between her thumb and fingers, watching it as it spun on her whim. Standing up, she smiled directly at him happily before turning her back on his and heading after her father, leaving only a few words with him. Beautiful, gorgeous words that he would never quite understand as well as he wanted too.
"Then I will be your wind. I will hold you up." She stated. Because she would never let any harm to him, let him be hurt or injured, not even by a rubber bullet or a stone that was thrown at him. Because the wind was supposed to make fires rise up, and she would never let him fall. Not once, no, because that would make everything so wrong and she loved him so much, even though she was young. It was not that she was foolish, but she was certain of that. She would always hold him up.
Even if it killed her.
Interesting, Doctor Spock. I actually did one with them as teenagers, technically children. Very soon apart from the last drabble, too.
Preview: He never missed a thing.