This links in with Mothers last gift.
It is a prequel of the fic but can be read without!
Warnings: Fluff, Roy X Ed, depressing.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
I still remember the look on your face, lit through the darkness by the moonlight. The night making you look even paler against our burgundy covers on the bed. The bed we shared.
The weakness showing in your eyes as I cared for you, puffing up pillows and fussing. You no longer passed comment on how I was treating you like a small child, I miss you're rants on being small. I know that it's degrading for you when I feed you, your hands no longer steady enough to overcome basic actions. I can see that you're embarrassed by your weakness.
The words that you whisper just for us to know, you tell me you love me and that I had to keep going. Keep living. How do I live without you? I can't - and you know that.
So why are you going away?
I recall now the smell of the fresh rain on the pavement the beat of your heart it jumps through your jacket. Our first date. Any normal couple would have been put off by the rain, but the rain symbolised freedom for us. There was no one around, we could show our affection to each other without disapproving glances being shot at us.
I can still feel your arms wrapped around me, tightly, lovingly. When you were still healthy, still living. My hair was flat against my forehead, water dripping from the inky blackness. Your hair was soaked and heavy, still in the plait, we had gone back to my house to dry off.
Before your Mother's last gift took hold. It was always there in the background, but we didn't know that then, young lovers in the rain. We had let the water wash away any doubts we had about each other. Lovers.
But now I'll sit on the floor of the bedroom wearing your red jacket, even though it's too small, it smells of you. The fire rages in the grate, a deep warmth filled our bedroom, you are always cold now, shivering. The jacket, my safety blanket, it reminds me of days gone by. When you were feisty, had a spark in your eyes.
I try to work out the conundrum of life, the enigma of why he is being taken from me. The riddles flashing before my eyes.
Was it for the lives I'd taken, the pain and suffering I have caused during my short existence? How I lived? Was it our love? Was it wrong? - It couldn't be, our love was right, it was the most beautiful thing in the world, the most important thing in my entire existence.
Is this a punishment? If it is, I've learned my lesson.
All that I know is that I can't live without you, even though you ask me to.
I never thought we'd have a last kiss, never imagined we'd end. Ending like this, such a painful, harsh way. I though that love was immortal.
Why are you leaving me?
I remember the spring of your step, the clunk of one foot, soft slap of the other. You were always proud of the automail, it kept you and your brother safe for a long while especially after your brother regained his body. He had needed protection from everything; his metal body could survive almost anything, his flesh one not so much.
Al didn't know about Ed's state yet, he had married a young girl and left for her hometown leaving you on your own. you went to the wedding in the Central, but you were never introduced to your sister in law. I can see that you miss Al greatly, often getting me to write letters to him, but never got a reply.
You were the life of the party. I'd roll my eyes at you showing off your automail, its strength and shine. People would admire it, wonder up battles in which you lost your limbs, if they knew it was from an illegal attempt of bringing your mother back to life they would probably stay away. I know but I still love you.
You'd pull me in, making me dance. I'm not much for dancing but I did. For you. We'd do silly dances with funny moves, you making a parody of moves from when I was younger, making them over the top. It was funny, I wish now that I had enjoyed dancing with you more. I can't now.
Why are you going? Stay.
I love your hands, one cold, one warm, and how you treat me at work, how you grumble and argue with me. Always going for the easiest option, the less work you had to do, the longer we got together. There was always a comment that made me furious and you would take that moment to run out, ending the conversation. But we made up for it later. In bed.
I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets and can change anything with a clap of metal and flesh. You made me many things with those hands, kept us safe. Made me feel loved.
I love how you'd kissed me when I was in the middle of saying something. It was something important, but I forgot and kissed back. Our first kiss. One of many, but always the most important, until now.
A forbidden kiss between employees, partners, men.
There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions. Now you're weak, you have no fight left, no resistance, strength. You barely say a word. Just reassurances of love.
So I'll watch your life in pictures, pictures of you in your youth, young and healthy. Playing with Winry, fighting with Al, fussing over the dog. Granny was always watching over you then, now it is my turn.
I watch you sleep. A deep untroubled sleep. I hope you have good dreams, about us and all the good we have done.
I can't miss a moment of the short amount of time we have left. I try to take in everything, the little habits the annoyed me before now are welcome, they remind me that the shell before me is still you. That you still love me.
I feel you forget me slowly, day by day as the illness takes hold.
I hope it's nice where you are, in you're dreamland.
And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day and you're in a field running freely. I hope that I will join you there soon. Forever together in peace.
You can plan for a change in weather or schedule but I never planned on you leaving me like this, here but never present.
I give you one last kiss.
Our last kiss.