[ AU of AU's ] a Day in the Life...
For the most part, life in Reizenbul was generally uneventful. Rolling hills of green, clean streams, dirt roads, and farm land. Quiet, peaceful... practically disconnected from the rest of the world. Despite occasionally restless feet, Edward liked it just fine that way. It seemed hat daily he woke up, wondering if it was all really just some elaborate dream. Maybe he'd died in that fight that seemed so long ago, and this was 'heaven'. That is, if such a thing really existed.
On this particular afternoon, he sat at the desk in his study, flesh fingers drumming idly against the oak surface, while fingers of forged steel turned the pages of a thick, old book. Very few people braved the inside of his study -- for all it's unconventaional sort of organization, it appeared a mess to most eyes. Books filling shelves and stacks on the floor, papers strewn about... Arrays traced on looseleaf, scribbled out, adjusted, or notes written on them. That day, most of it was untouched as he did a bit of light reading. He pushed blonde hair out of his face, golden eyes peering down at the pages from behind wire-rim glasses. His mind was only half focused on the text.
After ten years, he finally had everything he'd wanted, and then some. Alphonse, whole and human, and experiencing life in their home as it was meant to be experienced. Successful, and eager... Winry's automail business was thriving, and she took frequent trips to Rush Valley. She always came back though, and it was rather ironic (in Edward's mind) that it was she who was doing the most traveling these days. There were still the cold rainy days when his automail ached, but he'd had it just as long now as he had ever lived without it...
And then there was Dairine.
On this particular afternoon, he sat at the desk in his study, flesh fingers drumming idly against the oak surface, while fingers of forged steel turned the pages of a thick, old book. Very few people braved the inside of his study -- for all it's unconventaional sort of organization, it appeared a mess to most eyes. Books filling shelves and stacks on the floor, papers strewn about... Arrays traced on looseleaf, scribbled out, adjusted, or notes written on them. That day, most of it was untouched as he did a bit of light reading. He pushed blonde hair out of his face, golden eyes peering down at the pages from behind wire-rim glasses. His mind was only half focused on the text.
After ten years, he finally had everything he'd wanted, and then some. Alphonse, whole and human, and experiencing life in their home as it was meant to be experienced. Successful, and eager... Winry's automail business was thriving, and she took frequent trips to Rush Valley. She always came back though, and it was rather ironic (in Edward's mind) that it was she who was doing the most traveling these days. There were still the cold rainy days when his automail ached, but he'd had it just as long now as he had ever lived without it...
And then there was Dairine.