Roy Mustang, the Poet
Disclaimer:I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or its characters.
Pairing: Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye
Summary: Roy tries his hand at poetry as a means of confessing to Riza. Unfortunately, poetry really isn't his forte.
Belated happy birthday, my friend. You know who you are XD Kimi wa hontou ni… -smirks-
It's been about 5 months since I've written a Royai drabble, so let's see how this one goes…
Flames are red, rain is blue,
I'm the Flame Alchemist,
Who really loves you!
"HAHAHA!!!!" Roy's eyebrow twitched. Dangerously. "OH. MY. GOODNESS. HAHAHA—fkaljgfda." Ah, the sound of someone being burnt was music to Roy's ears.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't laugh at my masterpieces," the Flame Alchemist icily addressed his subordinates who were all sprawled across the floor or hiding behind objects, with either scorched uniforms or scorched hair.
"You really aren't thinking of confessing to her like that, are you?" Fuery crawled out from underneath his desk, his hiding place. He quickly ducked down again, just in case the man sent a burst of flames his way. Lucky for him, those flames never ensued.
"Then how about this one?" Roy's black eyes scanned the pages, and he started reading with his deep voice. "I love your hair, your lips, your eyes. But most of all, I love your thighs."
Within a millisecond the room burst into an uproar of uncontrolled laughter.
"That's classic. Wonderful stuff, Taisa," Havoc exclaimed, while drying the tears of mirth from his eyes with his handkerchief.
Roy resisted the urge to snap his fingers and burn every single little bit of Havoc, right from his head to his toes. It was only the glaringly obvious fact that he needed help in confessing to Riza that stopped him from doing so.
"How would you do it then?" Roy grunted.
"Well since that you seem to like poetry," Havoc drawled, "how about this?" He paused for a while, gathering his thoughts and with one hand poised in the air he started dramatically. "My dearest Riza, with blonde shiny hair. Your skin is—" Silence.
"—as smooth as a pear?" Falman helpfully put in. Roy coughed. Violently.
"I think you should take a more aggressive, physical approach." Everyone turned to look at Armstrong, and instantly regretted it. The top half of his uniform had magically disappeared, revealing massive, chunky muscles. He flexed his arms proudly, with the purple sparkles that surrounded him blinding everyone. "Like this, see?" The men deadpanned as Armstrong changed poses over and over again.
"Maybe something more intellectual would work. After all, Lieutenant Hawkeye is an intelligent woman." Falman took out his dictionary and recited. "I - Used to refer to oneself as speaker or writer. Love - To have sexual intercourse with." Falman coughed. "I don't think that's the correct definition we're looking for." A few snickers arose. "Ah, here we go. Love - A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness. Riza—" He flipped to the 'R' section of the dictionary and then froze. "I can't find the definition of Riza in here."
"Of course you can't, you idiot. They don't put meanings of names in dictionaries." Roy snatched the dictionary from him, threatening to set it on fire, ignoring his pleas.
"I-I think it would be best for you to just tell her straight forward," Fuery timidly voiced. "After all, she is a practical woman."
Roy scowled. Why did he have to be stuck with this idiotic lot? "What, you just want me to tell her 'Riza Hawkeye, I love you'?"
The room was a deathly silence as the door opened. The subject of their conversation walked in, making a beeline for the poor Colonel.
"You better not; otherwise something like this will happen to you. Hayate." Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye nodded to her dog, which jumped up and clamped Roy's more nobler parts between his jaws. She looked at his face, slightly amused by the pained expression, but she had enough heart to not put him through too much misery. "Enough, Hayate." The black and white dog happily yipped and wagged his tail, completely oblivious to the daggers Roy was glaring at him.
As she turned to leave, she threw a piece of paper in front of him. "Also, it might be better if you didn't leave notes like these all over the place. Someone else might find it, someone who would actually reject you."
Roy whimpered as she left the room. He picked up the piece of paper in front of him and read it to himself silently, still grimacing from the pain.
I, Roy Mustang, would gratefully be
Your husband for the rest of my life
If you would only accept my plea
To be my partner, to be my wife.
He managed a small smile as he saw Riza's small, neat handwriting underneath his own messy scrawl.
- END -
Taisa – Translates to Colonel.
All definitions from Falman's "dictionary" were taken from for the poetry, I apologise. It's horrifying, shocking, horrendous, trash-worthy - whatever you want to call it XD
Now to do my commerce assignment… sighs