a/n oh look the title chapter. and the most romantic scene i've ever wrote for Roy and Riza.
well, in my opinion. i may just be rly rly tired. im in love with them both.

"You should have slept in a bed, Colonel.
We have a long day ahead of us."

It was far too late in the morning.
Far later than she would have intended to start.
The Colonel liked to sleep in too much. She was the clock.

But, she was tired enough to forget to set her internal alarm.
She may have been less coherent last night than she would have liked.

She remembered watching the dark hills grow darker.
She remembered they were in Resembool before she could wake on the train.
She was carried. She was laid on a bed, tucked deep beneath thick blankets.

She heard whispering,
doors opening and closing.
She smelled coffee beans and apple pie.

She felt a kiss she shouldn't have at her hair line.
She heard murmuring outside of the walls around her,
but she knew she was never alone.

She was warm for the first time that night.

Her stomach dropped,
remembering.

Riza shook her head clear.
She would have to apologize later.

To everyone.

But now, it was far too late. They had to catch a late train to Eastern.
Arrive to the office in the afternoon and put in overtime catching up
on the work they missed after taking leave for a day and a half.
The team would be in chaos no doubt.

And, here she was.
Just now getting out of the shower.

He really should have slept in a bed.
The Colonel wasn't pleasant when tired.

But, she watched him smile.

"Maybe so," Roy said, settling his rickety table chair back on all four legs.
He had bags under his eyes and yawned through every word.
Even so, his wit never missed a beat.

"But, who would enjoy watching you sleep?"

Riza gave him a look. He grinned. It was a terrible joke.
Not even a joke, not harmful or inappropriate. Just a tad creepy.
But, not ill-willed. Never ill-willed. Regardless, Riza was always one to retaliate.

"You could have at least shared my bed."

Roy's eyebrows rose as he hid his interest like a true professional.
That's what he thought, at least. He always thought he hid it well.

He never hid it well.

"You would have let me do that?"

Riza scoffed and pulled her jacket on,
"Absolutely not."

He frowned and twisted toward the little mirror on the wall,
attempting to place the disobedient bedhead strands of hair
back into place, "You're cruel, Lieutenant. Just cruel."

"You have too many hormones, Sir," she huffed and turned to him,
scooping up her travel bag. He turned to her, "I prefer it that way."

"Indeed," she deadpanned.

And, suddenly, he looked severely concerned.
She wished he didn't.
She wished she could move on.
For once, she wished he would keep teasing her,
inappropriate or otherwise.

But, the joking was over.
He was concerned because of his incessant
and unrelenting care for his subordinates.

For her.
It was annoying.

It was who he was. Firmly compassionate, stubbornly dedicated.
It was what made him throw himself in front of bullets for the people
who were sworn to protect him.

Those said sworn wished he would stop doing that.

In a step, he was almost too close. He was certainly too close.
He would barely have to lift his arm for the two to touch.

In that space, there was warmth and peace,
despite the blazing fire and the freezing rain
from the night before.

Riza had made so many mistakes.
She wished for once she could go on without.

But, here she was, derailing a most important trip,
for two boys who more than deserved some sort of hope.

Roy radiated warmth. It filled her chest,
and spread through her heart,
but her mind fought back,
knowing she fit better in the cold.

I'm sorry, she was about to say.
maybe, Thank you, she was desperate,
she wanted to plead, beg,
forgiveness.

But, trying to apologize to the Colonel,
particularly when you were his Lieutenant,
was a pipe dream.

He would never let her.
So, she saved some strength,
and didn't for now.

Trusting in the fact
that he already knew.

Instead, he reached for her hand,
lingering a little bit longer than necessary
and grabbed her obligatory clip in her grasp.

"Turn."

"Huh?" she responded dumbly,
too caught up in her thoughts,
too warm.

He spun his finger then shook the clip in his hand.

She hesitated.
She didn't want to leave this bubble just yet.

But, she did turn. He grabbed her damp long blonde hair off her shoulders,
running his fingers through the back, the sides, and smoothed it into a ponytail.

She exhaled heavily underneath his fingers.
All the air, all the tension in her body flooded out.
For a second, everything was okay.

For a second, last night didn't exist.

He clipped her hair delicately.
He grasped her shoulders and turned her gently back around.
They were so close.

He fixed her bangs and then gave her a soft smile.
They were so extraordinarily close.

"All clear?" he asked, keeping the language of the military intact.
for comfort, for clarity, focusing on the present,

the future.

She breathed, drawing back the senseless touch of mist from her eyes.
She could tell he saw. She almost hated him and the microscopic smirk
he gave, a reflex to her display of vulnerability.

Her unadulterated display of herself.

"Yes, Sir," she lifted her chin and saluted, "All clear, Sir."

He gave a half-hearted laugh, sad but hopeful.
He motioned a small salute, not even raising his elbow,
then muttered softly to her,

"At ease." He said,
"Let's go home."

"Home," she hummed. East City.
Where their men were.
Where he was.

Where they belonged.
Where they could press on.

"Yes," he resisted the urge to sweep the extra strand
of blonde hair back behind her ear.

Then he did it anyway.

"Home."

lil, smol, but so beautiful. let me know if my fav was your fav.
talk to me. one more chapter.