Draped in Wires
by. Poisoned Scarlet

Theme 034: Communication

They always fought.

It could be about the most trivial things but the Rockbell household was always abuzz with shouts and yells of frustration. Pinako had lost count as to how many times they had fought over the course of their blossoming relationship. Sometimes she wondered if they would ever even last but it was a rather idiotic thing to muse about: Edward Elric was one determined young boy, more stubborn than a mule, and it would take him years to give up on them if he had anything to say about it.

Even if they fought nearly every day...

"You're a jerk!"

"So now I'm a jerk for being honest? What the hell do you want from me!"

Surprisingly, it was always Edward who rose his hands and left her to steam. Winry would be there, fuming and shaking in rage, and stubbornly refusing to stand down while Edward, seemingly, picked these fights carefully and left when he saw she was getting too worked up.

She knew why, too.

It wasn't because he had suddenly lost his backbone. It wasn't because he was afraid of her - he was more amused by her violent outbursts than she would ever know - and it wasn't because he didn't care enough to resolve their arguments.

It was because he loved her.

And by love her, she meant he loved her enough to not to piss her off to the point where she considered ending their relationship. It had never happened before, of course, Pinako was very aware Winry would first poison herself than leave Edward, but he was a package full of insecurities and guilt.

Guilt.

That was another, more pressing, reason why he stalked into another room to cool off.

He felt immensely guilty for yelling at her right after – enough that he'd probably grovel if Winry asked him to. Or if she looked as if she had cried or was about to, then he lost it and tried to do just about everything possible to atone for his brusque ways. She had seen it happen and, although it amused her more than anything else in the world, Pinako would say she could not have chosen out a better man for her granddaughter to live along-side with for the rest of her days.

Although, she could do without Edward's short-fuse and Winry's violent reactions...

"Where do you think you're going—don't you dare walk away from me, Edward Elric!"

"Fuck, woman, give me SPACE!"

"Space? Fine! Leave! I don't care!"

The door slammed shut and Pinako heard dissimilar footfalls track down the stairs and out the front door. She could hear pacing upstairs, no doubt her granddaughter cursing him out under her breath, and the old woman could imagine her surrogate grandson walking down the dirt trodden path in a furious rage; cursing and glaring before the rage melted into weariness and he reviewed the argument in his head.

Then he would recall all of the things he said and the guilt would bubble and only start to bottle when he came back and Winry shunned him with an icy glare.

Then the rather admirable but pathetic make-up process would begin.

"Winry...?"

She served herself a glass and replied, bitingly: "So now you want to talk to me? I thought you wanted space."

He sighed, wishing he had never said that in the first place. Now she would use it on him continuously every time he pushed her buttons. "I didn't mean it like that, Win, I was just—!"

"Being a jerk?" She finished for him, accusingly.

"Hey, you aren't such a saint yourself, you know!"

She intensified her glare, the glass in her cup threatening to break from her iron grip.

He heaved a sigh. Not good, they were getting worked up again. "Look, I didn't come here to fight – just hear me out!"

"Sure I'll hear you out – tomorrow, or maybe the next day or the next day. When you've had enough of your precious space." She smartly replied, tearing out of the room with an expression comparable to Pinako's when she was young and fresh and wild and thoroughly pissed off...

It was an expression to be reckoned with.

There was a reason they dubbed Pinako the Pantheress of Resembool...

"Winry—!"

A door slammed, making the walls tremble and the picture frames shake on their nails.

Pinako only blew out rings of smoke.

She knew what would happen next: he would become frustrated and fed up with her infuriating ways and forcefully start to negotiate with her, only to get her more enraged. It would most likely escalate to something else, something actually serious, but Pinako had yet to meet another couple that could immediately sink back to square one after reaching level nine of Hell in less than five minutes.

"Damn it, Winry, you're being difficult!"

"Just go away! You want space? Well, now you can have all the damn space you want!"

"Winry!" He pounded on the door. "Open the damn door before I do it for you!"

"Ha! As if you can—! EDWARD!" She screeched, the door bursting open and barely hanging on its hinges.

The old woman sighed through her nose. There went another door to the temperamental couple. She partially wished Edward still had alchemy: it was loads easier to simply clap your hands and fix the door than bust out the hammer and nails and readjust the entire frame or sometimes get a whole new door altogether.

She heard more yells, more muffled screams and furniture succumbing to their violent ways, before it all became silent and the house creaked with their weight above. She did not hear anything for a long time, actually – longer than the last time they had fought, she thought, amused.

There was only silence with the occasional squeak of floorboards, thumps and taps on the wall, and the old woman did not even want to know what they were partaking in as she hauled herself out of the rocking chair and casually made her way to the front – making sure to slam the front door loud enough for both of them to hear.

Edward and Winry always fought – it was simply another way they communicated with each other.