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Where Roy Learns About A New Routine

Roy roused from having dozed off again when the front door fell shut. Claws scratched across the floor next door, the heaviness of her boots telling him that it was too cold outside for open shoes. Hayate shuffled excitedly while the rustling of a bag, followed by the clattering of his food in a bowl sounded. Her voice was audible but her words not understandable through the closed door as she first strictly, then kindly addressed her loyal companion before he could start on his breakfast.

Roy always loved waking up at her place. It was by far better than his own, simply because it was never completely empty, never completely lonely or cold. The nights were chilly and the days sometimes, too, depending on the time of year, but there was always a warmth it carried. A warmth she brought with her anywhere she went.

Uncommon was not a word to describe what had almost become a habit of his. Usually, however, he would be drunk, needing a ride or a shoulder to steady himself on. He would sometimes need company, other times merely wanting it. He had made up countless excuses, none of which she truly bought, he knew. Not that she admitted that. She just let it pass, pretending to fall for it with a rigorous and then defeated sigh. She had never turned him down, not once.

And he loved her more with every time.

He knew her well, those little habits of hers. Whether they were conscious due to feeling watched or something unnoticeable he would pick up on. He never let her know as not to be deprived of seeing them. He adored the way she frowned her brows when reading a novel in a male voice in her head, staring at her book; the curling of her toes on the bathroom tiles to feel the stickiness of her own skin to them; the way she scratched her stomach when lost in thought; the small sigh that escaped her whenever she allowed her beautiful hair flow down her shoulders. He treasured to be a part of that slice of her life, blending in as often as he could not resist to actively join – a constant battle between pretending not to seen as not to make her stop and wanting to hug and squish her for all eternity.

Another thing he was always smiling to himself about was her routine. Usually, he slept through the mornings after a tipsy night or some story to sneak into her bed instead of his own. He hardly ever noticed her to get up so much earlier than he would have. She would somehow peel out of his possessive embrace, change and be out the door with Hayate. After the morning walk, he would pretend to sleep while actually watching her morning stretches and small exercises. He must have been a flawless actor because she never switched rooms, even with him there.

Sometimes, however, he would just obviously stare, unable to tear his eyes away from the way her muscles bent and elongated, hoping inwardly for those certain favourite poses of his to be included in her varying patterns.

Next, she went to take a brief shower, returning in her military uniform minus the jacket and boots. At that point, he would either change places with her to slowly get ready himself or have to be kicked out after dozing off again. She made a quick breakfast, always something healthy and very little time-consuming, often taking it into the car with them to arrive at the office before everyone else.

The team knew well to read whenever he had spent the night at hers, seeing as he was too early then to have come on his own. Decently, they pretended not to know, more due to fearing her wrath than his.

Today was special though. Today, it was weekend. He hardly ever came to sleep over at her place during the weekend while also being sober. But today, he was awake and curious how she would spend her mornings without having to go to work. And oh, he prayed civilian clothes were involved. He had long awaited to see that one top he had thought to have seen her in one hazily drunken night, not wanting to believe it to have been a booze-infused dream. Because it had lace. It was white and rather basic, but the sweetheart neckline had been adorned with fine lace, something so exceptional for her and so utterly mesmerising, he longed to see it again.

Bare feet padded towards the bedroom now. Relaxing as much as possible to seem unsuspicious, Roy waited for her to enter. She did, and he harked at the sound of her steps towards the dresser. A drawer opened, so he peeked an eye open. Meeting hers dead on. A drop of sweat pooled on his temple and he could all but stare back, curling his lips inwards at being caught. She rose a brow.

Setting a trap this early in the morning…

Swallowing, he let out a breath as she turned back to rummaging through the drawer.

"Stop watching me," Riza drily said.

"Why?" Roy heard himself say before properly thinking about it. His eyes wanted to stretch out of their sockets and around her to see whether she was not actually busy with that infamous lacey top. She closed the drawer, a pair of woollen socks in hand. "I'm just curious," he admitted when she punished him by ignoring him. She was not giving any hints at morning stretches and he really wanted to know what she would do instead.

Breakfast in bed, maybe. That was definitely something he would welcome.

Deadpan, she held up the socks in her hand as to demonstrate what 'wonders' he could behold while stalking her. He returned a pout.

"If you're going to wear only those, I'm a happy man," he grinned. Then yelped when the aforementioned items hit his face. "I just want to know what your days off look like," he defended himself, seeing his chances at not only the top but her attention altogether dwindling. Having grabbed the socks, he blinked to see her close the door. Only then did he notice Hayate to have entered.

Wordlessly, she answered his question.

Lifting the blanket, Riza flopped back into bed. Hayate followed suit and she dropped the sheets to bundle them in, wrapping her arms around him as soon as he had laid down, closing her eyes and deflating with a deep sigh. Roy smiled.

She might not have been wearing her pyjamas anymore or something alluring for his personal pleasure, but that did not change how gorgeous she looked to him. A small smile on her lips, Riza was snuggled into her pillow, into her dog, actually treating herself to a break beneath the warm covers when she felt like having one. Serving no one but herself, even if just for an hour. And knowing that made him happier than any outfit could have, he realised.

Scooting closer – naturally not missing the chance of being able to hold her – Roy came to wind his arms around her waist, having to carefully dig in between her ribs and Hayate's spine. He inhaled the sweet scent of her nape, nuzzling his face into her hair, sharing his still present sleep-warmth with her cooled down form.

She would protest and reject his advances if they were not in the black of the night, but today was special, he found now more than ever, not being shoved away or scolded. His heart swelled with pride, then skipped a number of beats when her hand wandered, finding his over her stomach.

Her head turned, and in an unexpectedly rare moment of tenderness, she cupped his face in her palm.

"Now you know," she whispered, pecking his cheek, just before fleetly hiding her face in Hayate again.

He really was one hell of a happy man.