It was a hot summer day, the kind typical for late June in Central, and just as typical was the out-door flea market his brother had dragged him to.
With a sigh, Edward glanced over the junk scattered about the many tables as his brother thumb through cheesy romance novels some lady had out for a few cents each. He hated flea markets - especially after he was there for over three hours, but felt bad that he hadn't been able to spend as much quality time with Al since he... started getting sick so often.
Still, three hours was three hours, and that was three hours too long in his opinion. Plus, if one more old lady shove some useless dusty trinket in his face, he was going to... well, he didn't know what he would do, but he was sure his brother would be pissed about it.
Desperately, he looked for something at least remotely interesting, and his eyes settled on a blur of color in the distance. With nothing better to do, he shrugged and walked over to see what it was.
As he approached, the blurred colors sharpened into masses of flowers in many different colors. Not as interesting of a distraction as he had hoped for, but at least it was prettier than all the half broken dishes and stuff he'd been stuck looking at all day.
Most of the flora towards the front were roses and other insanely overpriced flowers. He really didn't understand why people liked them so much. They were rather bland and not all that pretty.
Behind the back of the display were flowers more suited towards his taste. Lilies, wild flowers, and a varieties of dyed flowers littered the shelves. A bouquets of rainbow dyed daisy's caught his eye, and he picked it up to admire it and wondered why flowers like these weren't more popular.
Unfortunately, flea market vendors can smell potential customers from a mile way (very similar to the way sharks can smell blood from long distances,) and had him trapped.
"Those are some pretty flowers, aren't they dear?" the old woman said, startling the teen. "Nothing says romance some nice flowers... though a lot of people are allergic to daisies and other flowers from the chrysanthemum family. You're probably better off with some roses..." she hinted and Edward hurriedly waved off her sales pitch.
"Um... no, I was just looking.. wait..." he paused. "What did you say about allergies?"
"Oh, I was just mentioning you'd be better off with roses. Not many people are allergic to those..."
"No... no. These are fine." he said, holding up the rainbow daisies with a grin. "How much?"
Figuring a low sale was better than no sale, the old woman smiled a yellow tooth grinned and ushered Edward to the cash register. He handed her a few dollars, and bid her good day as she ran off to harass other possible customers.
It was then Al decided to 'clear' his throat, and Edward swallowed nervously as he realized his brother just saw him buy flowers...
"Those are nice, Brother... who are they for?" Alphonse asked, and then after an extended pause finished, " Are they for Colonel Mustang?"
The stuttering, blushing mess his brother became answered that question fairly well.
"No, I mean yes.. I mean, remember last spring? He was a snot filled mess cause of, of allergies and, I, um... oh look!" he stalled, pointing at a table a bit farther down, "That lady has little cat statues out! He really should go look..." he said and fled, flowers gripped tightly in his hand.
Alphonse watched him scurry off and sighed.
His brother must be sick in the head... that was the only way to explain such insanities.