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: 081. Footsteps
Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, Greed would be cannibalised to make a tasty roast.
Angles
081. Footsteps
She walks in empty spaces.
Between the words, between worlds – he'd joke about it like this, but the both know it is not funny when their world is splitting at the seams into another – and after becoming a weary traveller, she waits. She is patient. He laughs because she is always waiting and he is sick, because the word patient is ironic when you are one and you are trying to be calm.
"Blind in one eye."
He comments casually, re-adjusting the seemingly obligatory eye patch he has awarded himself with. Her feet tap out a beat on the floor, libretto – polka – falsetto. Her movements have become his guide, a pulse of life; she maps out the beating of her heart with her footsteps because now he can only half focus on her face. Next life, he thinks, he would rather have a stethoscope.
"We will work around it, Sir."
Then there it is again. The inane movement of her feet and a hazy blur of blonde as she moves to peel an apple for him. He wonders briefly what would happen if he took a stethoscope to himself, if he would hear the same lifelines set out; if she would hear the same as him. But it is silly little things like this that keep him distracted. It is foolishness that makes him remember. He recalls his anger.
"I want to see you."
He says, more frustrated with himself than anything. The funny thing about her is she carries on going. He supposes it is how she stays sane. She maps out her answers with the song she makes. A steady beat. Four bar rhythm, he thinks idly. Then it stops. She takes his hands; and he feels her face. The world will only be like this for a couple of days until he regains half-sight, he knows, but he cannot help but resent himself for this anyway. Until then, he passes his fingertips lightly over her face, searching for the source of the rhythm. He wonders if his sight is going to get worse in a few years. He wonders if she could love a blind man.
"Sir -"
She begins, but he raises a finger to prevent her from continuing. Her feet begin to move again, although this time it is from the slight agitation of being treated like a child. An interruption. He smiles for the first time in a week, and searches for her cheeks; then kissing his fingertips places them upon her cheeks once more in the most gentle manner he can manage. He feels her flush.
"Sorry, I was listening."
She says nothing, but the tapping continues. She maps out the bruises, the cuts, and the sight he has lost within her rhythm; and he enjoys her life as she plays it out for him like a beautiful sonata.
Where she steps, he will always follow.
Sometimes, I feel Roy having bed rest when he lost sight in the film was annoying; as it was not very accurate of what genuine fear people hold when they go blind. His genuine terror in the manga was much more accurate. But at the same time, either way, I am certain that Riza would see him through it resolutely. He needs her so much sometimes that he becomes the one who follows.
Reviews & criticism appreciated.