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: 048. Side of Face

Dedication: Ziek, I love you. ;_;

Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, there Riza and Olivier would be together, with Winry as their son.

Angles

048. Side of Face

A cold wave of fear came over him.

He cannot read her. Not when she does that. When she turns her face to the side, looks away from him, he cannot see her eyes. He always knew what she was thinking by her eyes. Her eyes betrayed everything to him. The crimson-chocolate orbs she possessed weren't even looking at him, let alone paying attention to anything he had to tell her. Nothing he said or did would get her to care.

"Riza, you need to run." He dropped all formalities, his voice quaking as he spoke. She stood firmly in place, despite the roar of commands he knew she could hear, and the thundering sound of feet as the soldiers who had once been their friends began to tear through the building to find them. She released the safety trigger on one of her pistols, and raised it as the sound of one splash of feet separated from the rest. It was coming towards them. Riza never liked to hurt those she had known, but it seemed today would make everyone but him and those still loyal to them and what they stood for an exception.

"Incorrect, Sir. You are the one they will kill if caught. They need me for information." She stated. A man turned the corner, and before he could even let out a single sound a gunshot echoed in the hallway. One man down, dead within seconds. Riza was the best shot in the military. At least he had not suffered. His blood pooled into the sewer water eerily. The bullet shell swam in the water, a reminder that she was there for a reason and that reason was to fight. He glared at it before redirecting his gaze to her once more.

"I can turn this entire place to ash. Get rid of them all. Just run." Three more men came, yelling as they saw their dead comrade. Three shots. They were down too, staining the water an even deeper shade of red. One more shot, and she would need to switch the cartridge. If any more than one came at once, it would be awkward for her to keep it up. But he had known for a long time that Riza never gave up, never stopped, because she saw it as worse than defeat. A true soldier died in battle, alongside their friends. Those they loved. A coward died alone and old, with nobody left. She had believed that for a long time.

"Shut up. You know the sewer water will prevent you from using anything big, unless you strain yourself, and if you do strain yourself the space is too confined and you will die along with them. I, on the other hand, can let you escape. I can let you live, and as my higher up, you will. As long as you do as I say, for once." She put the gun down to her right side and took out her second one. Another two down in the blink of an eye. Unless she was saving that bullet for a certain reason, he did not see why she had not reloaded.

"You are supposed to follow my commands, not the other way around." He said. Finally, she turned to face him. Her features were blank. The normal upwards tilts at the corners of her mouth were gone, the eyebrows normally furrowed into anger or worry gave away nothing. But her eyes, they danced. This was her fight, and there was nothing she would rather be doing at that time then letting him live. Just as she had always done.

"You are not my God." She stated the fact, turning around completely. He studied her coat covered back for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. No more had ran near them yet. But she was a sentinel, ready for her duty. She was going to guard him, just as she was supposed to, unless he did something to stop her from acting like he mattered. Then, it finally dawned on him. His eyes widened.

"But I am the man you love." He whispered. She dropped the gun full of bullets, and released some cartridges from her belt before carelessly kicking them towards him. She only needed one bullet. She sat next to him in the filth, staring at the passage and waiting for them to come. She gestured the gun in her hand, lightly mentioning the one remaining bullet as though it were a light topic of conversation, despite the fact he could see tears beginning to well in the corners of her sharp eyes.

"So, is this for me, you or Bradley?"

This sucked, and it is late again because my computer fails life. Rage.

Preview: "Riza, answer me. Please."