A/N: Hey, minna-san! Back again. n.n;; Here's a cute, kinda sappy little one-shot about Roy's feelings for Riza. Enjoy and be sure to review, please!
And please IM me on AIM at Sexinator Havoc. :3
by MARY, a.k.a. SM/Cashmeritan
Roy Mustang was defenseless, as vulnerable as they came. He was seated in a throne, which was more like a desk chair in his office, eyes locked to the world outside his rain-veined window. Gah, his head was bothering him more than anything right now, and he glanced over his shoulder into darkness. Sighing, he weaved his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands.
'Ima Koko ni Iru Jibun wo Shinjitai.'
Why did he feel so weak? It was like he had run across a desert, desperate for rest, when of course that was completely false. His shoulders were sagging, as was his usually cocky smile, and he had lost his glamour and valor. Was this old age? He was only 29...
A slight smile cracked his solemn face, when he thought of how his dear Lieutenant would respond to that. He could just see the embodiment of her, standing before him, hands on her hips and indignantly saying, 'Sir, you're the youngest officer to have gotten your position. That's not old.'
And her expression would clearly be a 'tsk-tsk' sort of one, the kind that people donned as they wagged their fingers in a 'no-no' way. He groaned, his right hand reaching upwards to massage his throbbing temples.
Where was Hawkeye when you needed her? He didn't want to be a hinderance, a bother, but when she was around, he felt safe. And not just because she was the one person he entrusted his back to. Because she was the manifestation of everything he had ever wanted in a woman. Good lucks, feistiness, stubbornness, intelligence...The list went on and on.
He needed her. It was a needy sort of a relationship, he surmised. She was like a mother figure to him, in that he had lost his mother and father at such a young age. But not only was she like a mother, but she was like a temptress of a woman to him. He longed to touch her, to unclip her long, golden-blonde hair, and watch the waves fall over her shoulders, cascading like...Oh God. There he went again, getting all 'poetic' about her.
Roy sighed once more, knitting his brow together in thought. It had to be love. The mysterious, enigmatically foreign feeling of love...The one thing he had doubted in his life, aside from there being a God. No other woman he had met had ever given him such an electrifyingly pleasant sensation. A tingling deep within his diaphragm, that provoked a happy stupor, a clumsiness...
He had been teased many times when he tried to convey these emotions and comtemplations to his late friend Maes Hughes. Hughes had laughed, poked Roy in the gut teasingly, and explained that it was 'love'.
Love...He, Roy Mustang, loved Riza Hawkeye?...
It...Had a nice ring to it...