By Henrika

Henrika- Warning- slight spoiler for the end of the series. Aside from that, it's just some interaction between Ed and his dad and Edward's inner angst. Not to mention that I've wondered how cute Ed would look with glasses. Onwards to the fic!

Ed blinked hard at the tiny print, the diagram of a rocket's fuel combustion chamber blurring beyond recognition. The pony-tailed blonde rubbed at his eyes with his flesh hand, trying to bring the words back into focus. He failed, finally slamming the book shut in frustration.

He knew his father had come into the room without even turning around. "You need glasses." The elder man stated plainly, adjusting his own round-framed lenses. Ed bristled, briefly considering chucking the book at his father.

"No I don't." He leaned back, catching his reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room. He looked like his father. He knew that, and hated that fact. Yet he didn't bother to change his hairstyle, in fact, he had begun wearing it in a high ponytail just like him (He claimed it was because the prosthetics made braiding impossible, which was true, but that wasn't the only reason or even one he himself believed.) The lines of his face had sharpened at the same angles, his hair had faded to the same color, and there was no mistaking the golden eyes that set them apart from everyone else, both here in Germany and back in Amestris. He even smiled like the bastard. (He didn't know about the grin, his father had never really grinned before.)

He squinted at the reflection. Al had looked like their mother; the same warm smile, round face, and caring nature. He couldn't find a trace of her features on his face and he wondered if any of her personality had remained with him.

He thought about glasses, imagined how they would look on his face. The scientific part of him insisted on the practicality of the aid. He had inherited his father's eye problems and the bits of glass would improve his vision enough that he could do his countless hours of research without headaches (at least not ones caused by his eyesight.)

But then the stubborn side of him joined in the argument. The side that refused to accept that he was trapped in Germany, maybe with no way back home. The side that never gave in, no matter how sound the advice or hopeless the situation. The side that promised never to become like his father, to never abandon his family for any reason (even ones beyond his control.)

"No." He found himself repeating as he opened the book again and began anew the struggle to bring the print into focus on his own. "Glasses won't be necessary."

Henrika- Stubborn, ain't he? Review please? I'm curious to see if I caught that emotion right.