Title: You're the Lump in my Throat and the Knot in my Chest
Day: Whumptober 2023, Day 17
Prompt: "You're the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest" Collar/Touch Aversion/ "Leave me alone"
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Word Count: 749
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: T
Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang
Warning: NA
Summary: In the early days after Ishval, Roy Mustang watches Riza Hawkeye and ponders the effects all of his choices have left on her already.
Notes:
You're the Lump in my Throat and the Knot in my Chest
She had changed. Mustang had, of course, noticed it to some degree. How could he not? He had noticed when he went back to her house, when her father was dying. He had noticed it in Ishval. But he was noticing it more now that she was his adjunct. Riza Hawkeye had changed.
Roy leaned on his fist as he watched her move about the office. They weren't the only two in here, of course. They would need more help in their plans and they were start to find trustworthy others, but it did make it a little more difficult to do casual observations of Riza, as he couldn't just stare at her without an excuse.
Her short hair caught the light coming in the window, shining in it, and contrasting against the dark turtleneck she wore underneath her uniform jacket. Everything she wore was high-necked now. It was either high necked or collared. He knew why, of course. It was to hide the tattoo. Even though he had burned it, she still kept it hidden. It was so different from their youth, where she used to strip to her underclothes to go swimming in the pond, or where she stared at the fashions that the other girls wore wistfully. It was as if she weren't just hiding the tattoo anymore, but also parts of herself.
Of course, part of that was his fault. If they were going to play these parts, then she had to play the part of the stern adjunct, and no one would believe that a more feminine woman would control him well. Or rather, they wouldn't believe that there wasn't something more scandalous going on between them if she appeared too feminine.
Riza had been placing some books that Roy had been using back on the shelf, and as she turned, she nearly bumped into the new soldier they were testing out, Jean Havoc. Riza had known him from her academy days and considered him a very good candidate for what they were doing. He automatically reached out to make sure that she was steady, but Riza stiffened up, and he withdrew his hands, apologizing instead.
It was another change. Riza had never been the touchiest of people, but with people she trusted, with people that were her friends, she had allowed it, even welcomed it sometimes. Now she pulled back from contact with others, adverse to almost any touch. Even with people that she knew, she often withdrew from them.
He knew that it was because of the tattoo and because of the burns. With the cover story of her injuries on her back being from one last Ishvalan attack, most people understood that she didn't want to be touched. They respected it. But it was another way that she was withdrawing, hiding herself, and Roy wished that he could do more about it.
Riza sat back down at her desk, getting to work. It didn't escape Roy's notice that no one approached her or seemed to even want to come near her. It was as if she was radiating a "leave me alone" energy that everyone took seriously. He couldn't blame them. With Riza's war reputation, he would be nervous about approaching her as well.
It isolated her further, though. It left her seeming more alone in the office and in life. It kept people away from herself. No one wanted to approach someone who didn't want to be approached. No one wanted to get close to someone who might not want it. It worked well with what they had planned, left them with less risks, but it was another way of hiding herself.
Roy frowned as he watched Riza. Her father had already left his scars on her. When he had come back, she had already been more withdrawn and nervous. Ishval had added more to her, including ones by his own hand. But a knot formed in Roy's chest, and a lump in his throat as he watched her further. He was adding to her troubles. He was adding to her isolation. Was he doing more harm than good when it came to drawing her into this? He was afraid he was, and it ate at him.
Yet, selfishly, despite the knot in his chest and the lump in his throat, Roy was glad that she was with him, even if it was slowly eating away at her—and Roy knew that he would always feel incredibly guilty about that.
