"Riza, look at this!" Roy calls excitedly, rubbing away the dust on another picture. This one is special; he stands in profile while Riza is next to him, giving orders. He had sent a copy of this one to Edward long ago, after the former alchemist had returned home to Resembool.
His wife looks over, her interest piqued, and smiles when she sees the photograph he's holding. "I remember that. Wasn't that just before the peace negotiations with Ishval?"
"Yes," he replies, "I remember that day well. That was probably the most nerve-wracking day of my life- trying to talk to the people whose lives I had helped ruin." Though his conversation topic was heavier than he himself was, he refused to let it drag him down; goodness knows he'd done enough of that during the war. He turns back to the boxes surrounding him and continues to sift through the pictures.
They were packing up their apartment and preparing to move into the Fuhrer's estate; Roy had finally been elected a few days before. Roy and Riza had protested living in the estate, for they had all they needed here, but tradition was tradition and Central's older lawmakers were extremely stubborn. So, with reluctance, they had begun to pack up what little belongings they had.
"What's this?" Riza's voice behind him is bewildered, yet playful, and he is slightly afraid. To Roy's horror, she holds a picture he wishes in that moment he had never saved.
"Oh, no, I had forgotten about that," he mumbles, his face beginning to burn. He leans over the pile of pictures and clothes to try and take it from her, but the picture dances out of his grasp, remaining in Riza's fingers. A sly smirk is making its way across her face, which only makes his cheeks burn harder. "Riza, please, give it back-"
"Why should I?" she laughs. "You were so precious!" The smirk is now replaced by her dazzling smile, and it becomes a speck of consolation in his otherwise extremely embarrassed mind. She gazes at the old photo with a fondness, and Roy is frustrated with himself for loving it. The picture is one from ages and ages ago, before he apprenticed with Master Hawkeye. His "sisters" had insisted on giving him a makeover and painting his nails, and he had only obliged because he had been five at the time and hadn't known any better. Alice had snapped a picture, and had stuck it on his dresser, too high for him to reach. Sentiment had prevented him from throwing it away, but now he regretted it.
"All right, come on, give it back," he laughs, reaching for her once more. She lunges out of his reach, and he promptly loses his balance, scattering the piles of clothes and photos as his torso collides with them. His wife laughs gleefully and he does too as he locks his fingers around her ankle, earning him a rare giggle. Roy hauls himself over the haphazard heap, diving for Riza, going straight for her stomach where he knows she is the most ticklish. A fierce tickle fight ensues, the both of them laughing breathlessly, neither truly winning. The laughter makes Roy's sides hurt, and soon his old wound begins to flare up. He gives in, letting Riza win, and holds her close, the both of them lying amongst the now completely disorganized piles. For a moment, he simply gazes at her, that huge smile he knows and loves stretching across her face, and is amazed at how long they've been together. Through the years, as wrinkles and stray gray hairs have begun to show, he has always marveled at how ageless and absolutely beautiful his wife remains to be. The first day he met her, though he wouldn't have admitted it at the time, he was astonished at how pretty his teacher's daughter was. And from then on, those sentiments had never changed.
"What's got you so deep in thought?" Riza asks as she strokes his pitch-black hair out of his eyes.
His thoughts calm and slow under her touch, and he replies, "Nothing. I'm just admiring how gorgeous you still are. These photos don't do you justice." Roy's voice is quiet, soft, inviting, but Riza merely rolls those wonderful whiskey-brown eyes, smiling in exasperation.
"You're impossible," she says, snuggling closer to him to press her lips to his.
His only response is to hum in agreement and hold her tighter.
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