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: 063. Special Seat

Dedication: eternal-angelic-innocence, thank you!

Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, the soundtrack would be very different.

Angles

063. Special Seat

Once, he thought of endings.

Because they happened in books. Everything suddenly came to a close, the words no longer continued in their almost liquid flow, and the story ended. The characters no longer continued in their routines, some no longer continued in their lives, and for others it was simply said that they had disappeared or something of the sort. Outside the book, their lives did not actually continue – although he had yet to realise this – although they lived on in memory. He took each last page for an ending, the final word there was on the topic. That ending was it. After that, there was nothing more. The characters lived happily ever after.

Then it happened. The country he was fighting for crumbled with relative ease. Without a guard who could match up to the skill of those in support of him, without a monster in human clothing leading them, how was it possible for it to stand strongly before him and demand that it be led by other means? Who would oppose him anyway? The man who had seen beyond the deception and face value, with nothing more than his humanity. People wanted him to lead them; they had seen that he was able to do it well. Seen that he was true. He took one look at the seat before turning his back on it, and looking to Hawkeye.

"I cannot take this." For his Queen, a special seat. The shock in her eyes confused him. She should have been pleased with such a thing. He did not long to be a leader any longer. He was only human, and nearly all humans could be corrupted with relative ease. But she stood by her convictions, judged people based on what was underneath and she had been the one to steady him when he was wrong. If he were in power, he knew he could prevent her from doing that and he did not wish for it. That seat no longer meant anything to him.

"That seat was made for you alone." She tells him, without any hesitation. The gold and ebony, chalk against his pale skin. To her, it would match perfectly. Not only would she be a righteous leader, she would be a beautiful one. It was easy to fall in love with such a woman, and he knew that the nation would do it without even noticing from the word go.

"It was made for a Queen." He whispered before grabbing her hand, and spinning her into it. She collapsed into the plush material with a thud, her body quickly stiffening to soften the blow and in the very second she closed her eyes he leaned forward to connect his lips with hers. He could feel the fear she held in that moment, taste everything he could have if only he did what she wanted. It was easy to fall in love with her, the nation would – just as he had – over and over, and it would never be anything but unstoppable.

"What is this?" She asked, pushing him away with desperation creeping into her voice. He placed a hand on her head softly, feeling the neatly combed hair sprawl into a mess beneath his touch. How could he put such a feeling into words? To ask it of him was impossible. To ask him to abandon his new mission was ridiculous. Even if it meant putting someone like her in charge. They never said to be loved that you needed to love back, and for a woman with no heart to speak of the job was almost too easy.

"I'll return with your heart." He said, immediately exiting. He collapsed into the floor after the wooden door slammed shut, feeling splinters cut into his fingers from the force he had just hit it with. For his dream, she had given her humanity. She had become what they had defeated. Hawkeye was a homunculus, and he had not been able to prevent it. But he would end such a damned existence in a less painful way. There had to be a way to do it, and he had known that. Equivalent exchange dictated it. She was some form of Lust-Riza, and to stop that someone else had to take her place. He would find a way. Even if it meant that special seat became corrupt once more. Even if it meant completely destroying it. He trusted her not to, even like that. She still seemed human. In her touch, her eyes, everything about her.

It was then he knew there were no endings.

I've been mulling over this idea for a while now. I was thinking about the idea of the seat being next to glass and turned from it for a while, and I was like 'That vantage point for a sniper is too easy, she could kill him if he ever got out of hand.' But then Olivier pointed out the sniping advantage in the latest chapter, and that sort of killed it for me. So never mind.

Preview: Then, he sees her.

Reviews are loved. :)