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: 057. Feigning Sleep

Dedication: Alexandra. Thank you, my darling. :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, there would be an update already. Grr.

Angles

057. Feigning Sleep

Her eyelashes fluttered gently.

Riza slept so silently, it was a wonder she did not have somebody loud to contrast that next to her in order to make up for the lack of thunder she created. So he knew, anyway. Or rather, he thought he knew. Riza did not sleep much around him. Because sometimes, that way, you dream more. Because nobody could tell you what reality was, what was right, and essentially nobody could take away what she wanted to believe in.

Roy bent down, crouching on his knees and staring at her for a moment. She did not react, if she knew he was there. She disliked the idea of him knowing that she only feigned sleep instead of actually sleeping when he was there. The idea of leaving him to deal with everything by himself terrified her. Not just because he was disorganised, but because he could barely keep himself together at times and she doubted he could protect himself with only his gloves in such an enclosed space. It seemed ridiculous to even think about.

"I love you." Roy whispered. He could never tell her when she was awake. She never said she knew. Maybe that way, she had reasoned with herself, things would stay just the way they were a little longer. Sleeping on cold hard stone slabs and rarely in between the bed sheets of some run down hotel, the scent of gunpowder and ash hanging thickly in the air and then them. She liked them just being them, instead of dodging and weaving and trying to stay strong for one another. They did enough of that already. But even so, it always took all of her will not to answer back when he said that so often without ever realising.

But sometimes, life was difficult. It was only when you realised you did not want to go to sleep because reality was far better than dreams that you gradually came to understand that very possibly you could love that person too despite wanting to believe that the little fluttering feeling those words gave was just due to lust or want. Sometimes, she even told herself that it was just because she was tired and worn down. It was just because he happened to be there. With her. Not anybody else, not even the other rebels. Just her.

But what made her not want to wake up was overpowering. Together, they had looked down the saddest city lanes, the golden dirt paths with poverty and misery pouring out from every molecule they could see. They had dropped their eyes, unwilling to explain to the injured and wailing mothers with their dying children just why it had all began. The time would never be wrong no right, to want to stop dreaming. When she saw broken people like that. When he said everything she wanted, and she could not reply for the life of her. She was unable to say it. Or maybe, it was just that she wanted to wake up too much. Because her dreams were nothing anymore, not compared to what she had.

So when Roy began to feign sleep too, she cried, if only for two reasons. She did not like him protecting her. She also knew his dreams were far greater than hers. Greater than any others. His mind was a blank canvas filled with hope and smiles, wanton thoughts and wants and wishes. Everything that dreams were.

It was making them a reality that terrified her.

I cannot see Hawkeye as an emotional person. But she is always trying to help Roy, and vice versa. I do not think she likes that, and rather prefers running the show from behind the scenes. For behind every great man, there is an even greater woman.

Preview: Neither of them liked beds.

Reviews are loved. :)