This is a little...I'm not quite sure what to call it, series of three oneshots that I wrote for the Royai festival at the Roy x Hawkeye thread. The theme is "new beginnings".
So...here is chapter one! Two and three will follow in the coming days. Hope you like it! Happy (at this point early) Royai day!! :)
The office was completely silent, save for the faint scratches of two pens as they moved furiously back and forth across blank sheets of paper. If Roy Mustang concentrated hard enough, he could just barely hear the even breathing of Riza Hawkeye as she swiftly tore through the rather daunting stack of paperwork beside her. One might think that these would be perfect working conditions for someone with a less than lengthy attention span; however, that was turning out not to be the case.
Sitting in a room alone with Riza proved more difficult than Roy had initially imagined. He could feel her lifting her eyes from her papers every so often to make sure he focused properly on his own work, and in those brief seconds it took him everything he had to maintain the pretense that he actually was focused on his work, and not on her. He would hastily scribble meaningless names and times down as they popped into his mind, his pulse quickening as he entered her line of vision. What did she focused on with those eyes of hers – his hands, his face, his neck, or all of him? Roy suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. He sensed a reddish tinge beginning to taint his seemingly calm facial features. Of course Riza would notice it. How could she not, with her eyes? And now she would know that he'd noticed her. And was thinking about her. And thus not paying attention to the project at hand.
She was good.
Roy pondered his next move. Perhaps it would be best to step out for a moment, get a glass of water, regain his fleeting composure, and start over. It would undoubtedly let Riza know just how much she flustered him, but he saw no other options. Furthermore, he needed a break from pretending she wasn't so distracting. His office, though it certainly looked empty with just the two of them occupying it, became filled with her the moment the rest of his subordinates cleared out. Roy couldn't stop considering the fact that they were alone, just the two of them, in his office. Alone. No one else. His face burned with the thought of it.
He suddenly looked up, his head involuntarily snapping out of its previous position, as if that would rid his mind of such thoughts. And, (involuntarily, of course), his eyes met Riza's.
Riza stared back at him, frowning, her forehead slightly wrinkled in confusion. She tilted her head just barely, waiting for him to sever this dreadful silence.
Roy cleared his throat. "I…I'm doing my work," he choked out, nodding and pointing to his papers. He immediately cringed. Did he really just say that?
"I know you are," Riza replied, her concerned expression softening into an easy smile as she returned her gaze to her desk.
Roy exhaled slowly, the redness slowly creeping out of his face.
"Yes," he continued, horrified with himself for prolonging the conversation. Why, in God's name, didn't he stop talking? "S-so you don't need to worry," he muttered, his skin aflame once more.
Riza continued writing. "Mmhm."
Roy stared down at the top of his desk. What was wrong with him? Since when did Riza make lose his head and turn into this stuttering idiot? What exactly was she-
It's because I'm in love with her.
Roy coughed, gasping as he recoiled in his chair. Where did that come from?!
"Is something wrong?" demanded Riza, placing her pen down and standing up.
"No! Nothing…I'm fine, please, stay there," Roy answered quickly. He watched Riza, making sure she made no attempts to come any nearer to him. That certainly wouldn't make the situation any better. "I'm just feeling a little lightheaded…I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, making his way swiftly towards the door.
It was true, he thought miserably to himself as he escaped to the bathroom. All of this; the stuttering, the distractions, the pointless babbling was because Riza had reduced him to nothing more than a lovesick teenager. Roy leaned over the sink. He felt dizzy, elated, nauseous, nervous, defeated, and liberated all at the same time. And he had to, somehow, pull himself together and spend the next three hours in that office with that woman.
This was going to be a problem.