Chapter 63 – Oblivious
Ed's eyes narrowed. The calm vanished. His fingers tightened around the scraper, going white. "I doubt that," he said thickly. Images of childhood flashed, consuming the smell of old paint – he and Winry holding hands as they ran through tall grass, laughing until their sides hurt, teasing with barely veiled affection and ease. The picture grew sharp—painful.
Bran frowned at the faraway look in his gaze. It held even more history than the house. "Maybe she's ready for someone who won't leave and assume everything will stay on hold," he challenged, letting his arms fall heavily. "Someone like me."