[ficlet] FMA: Home Away From: Alfonse Heiderich/Ed
Home Away From
FMA: Conqueror of Shambala
PG-13
Alfonse Heiderich/Edward Elric
From Noah’s POV, during FMA movie. Whole histories can come from details, if you know how to see them. Unrequited.
Over the bachelor kitchen table in the small Munich apartment, Alfonse is impeccably polite, considerate, and helpful. He doesn’t ask too many questions-not where Noah came from, why she can’t go back-but talks comfortably about the city, a little about himself, and a lot about Edward Elric.
Edward’s a point of mutual interest.
Alfonse already knows how they met, and only asks for details on how Edward rescued the gypsy girl before speeding away wildly in the student’s truck. Alfonse doesn’t ask why the military wanted her, how Noah’s own people could sell her, and only laughs when she retells the story of how Edward, outnumbered and unarmed, beat the crap out of the military goons with the secondary rocket, his robotic arm, and fancy fighting.
Edward’s the only point of mutual interest. Alfonse doesn’t talk about anything else so enthusiastically with her, doesn’t even boast his achievements in science with his rockets.
Back in the gypsy truck, meeting the two blonds for the first time, Edward had seemed like the reluctant one, uneasy mixing with gypsies, while Alfonse had seemed fascinated, interested. The truth, Noah learns, is that Edward’s initially shy around strangers though he hides it well and it doesn’t last--if she hadn’t touched him and read his heart, Noah would’ve seen it herself.
In the bachelor apartment the two blonds share, Noah finds clean polished circles and squares on dusty bookcases and coffee tables, notices that all the plates are plain and often chipped or cracked when she does the dishes, and that there is no good silverware.
When she’s left alone in the apartment-which isn’t often-she notices that Alfonse leaves wearing a silver wristwatch that he never takes off, leaves carrying all his notes and almost his weight in textbooks. Edward usually races out complaining about something or muttering his schedule to himself with his suitcase filled with papers and his gold hair flying.
While she’s alone, she finds empty spaces in the bookshelves in Alfonse’s room, finds complicated and unintelligible books stowed under the loose floorboards, or high in the closet rafters. She finds a few family items hidden away: a gold pin and cufflinks and a beautiful china picture frame. It’s not much, but it’d get her the money for a train ticket out of Munich, if not Germany.
Edward’s room is even emptier than Alfonse’s, and Noah wonders again if she misplaced their sympathies, but the truth is that Edward just doesn’t keep anything valuable. Edward doesn’t have valuables to hide from her, and though he has plenty to hide, it’s nothing she can steal and sell.
In reality, Edward doesn’t live there…exactly. He doesn’t have anywhere else to sleep or eat and this is his address on all the incoming mail, but Ed keeps his belongings sparse, required, always ready to throw everything into a suitcase and leave for somewhere else.
“I’m kind of glad he brought you here,” Alfonse confesses with a warm smile over the kitchen table. “Edward’s never shown interest in a girl before. I mean, he doesn’t show much interest in people at all. It’s kind of a relief.”
Alfonse doesn’t trip over himself explaining, but Noah remembers the turn of phrase.
Edward lives his life ready and aching to be somewhere else, eager to fly off, and Noah isn’t the only who’s noticed. She hears what Alfonse really means, knows why he welcomes her and allows her presence, tolerates her even though her chocolate skin is so much darker than his, even though his hair is blond and eyes blue, and hers are black and dark brown.
Alfonse is nice to her-he wants her to stay.
Some of that kindness is probably natural, genuine, she thinks, and then Edward steps into the room to grab a cup of coffee and bagel before running off to somewhere else. Alfonse looks up at him and smiles, his eyes lighting up, his shoulders relaxing and his white skin darkening, just a little around his ears and cheeks.
Ed seems to like her, so Alfonse wants her to stay.
Noah watches, sees what Edward doesn’t, and meets Alfonse’s eyes after Edward leaves the room again, mumbling incoherently around the bagel in his mouth about the idiots in the university and jerking his coffee mug around for emphasis. Alfonse looks away quickly.
He gets up from the table, gathering the plates, and twitches when she says, “He’s a good man.”
Alfonse watches her a moment too long, his face carved and careful.
“Yeah,” he turns his attention back to the table, to the chipped plates and moves to the sink. “Yes he is.”
“I’m sorry,” she watches the curve of his spine, the nape of his neck and guesses that Edward will never know and Alfonse will never say a thing. Alfonse has shown her gratitude openly, and now she can see the quiet subdued jealousy just as easily. “To put you to so much trouble.”
“Heh,” he shrugs. “It’s not too much trouble.”
“No,” she wants to see his face because it’s easier to read people that way, and wonders if this is one of the reasons his people hate hers, because she sees clearer than they do. “For him, I imagine it isn’t.”
***
Smile!! Though your life is miserable.
--Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Jhonen Vasquez
***
A/N: Er...not sure if this is obvious yet, but every Monday/Tuesday I'm trying to make a weekly post. Trying. Good word, keyword, trying is :D
FMA: Conqueror of Shambala
PG-13
Alfonse Heiderich/Edward Elric
From Noah’s POV, during FMA movie. Whole histories can come from details, if you know how to see them. Unrequited.
Over the bachelor kitchen table in the small Munich apartment, Alfonse is impeccably polite, considerate, and helpful. He doesn’t ask too many questions-not where Noah came from, why she can’t go back-but talks comfortably about the city, a little about himself, and a lot about Edward Elric.
Edward’s a point of mutual interest.
Alfonse already knows how they met, and only asks for details on how Edward rescued the gypsy girl before speeding away wildly in the student’s truck. Alfonse doesn’t ask why the military wanted her, how Noah’s own people could sell her, and only laughs when she retells the story of how Edward, outnumbered and unarmed, beat the crap out of the military goons with the secondary rocket, his robotic arm, and fancy fighting.
Edward’s the only point of mutual interest. Alfonse doesn’t talk about anything else so enthusiastically with her, doesn’t even boast his achievements in science with his rockets.
Back in the gypsy truck, meeting the two blonds for the first time, Edward had seemed like the reluctant one, uneasy mixing with gypsies, while Alfonse had seemed fascinated, interested. The truth, Noah learns, is that Edward’s initially shy around strangers though he hides it well and it doesn’t last--if she hadn’t touched him and read his heart, Noah would’ve seen it herself.
In the bachelor apartment the two blonds share, Noah finds clean polished circles and squares on dusty bookcases and coffee tables, notices that all the plates are plain and often chipped or cracked when she does the dishes, and that there is no good silverware.
When she’s left alone in the apartment-which isn’t often-she notices that Alfonse leaves wearing a silver wristwatch that he never takes off, leaves carrying all his notes and almost his weight in textbooks. Edward usually races out complaining about something or muttering his schedule to himself with his suitcase filled with papers and his gold hair flying.
While she’s alone, she finds empty spaces in the bookshelves in Alfonse’s room, finds complicated and unintelligible books stowed under the loose floorboards, or high in the closet rafters. She finds a few family items hidden away: a gold pin and cufflinks and a beautiful china picture frame. It’s not much, but it’d get her the money for a train ticket out of Munich, if not Germany.
Edward’s room is even emptier than Alfonse’s, and Noah wonders again if she misplaced their sympathies, but the truth is that Edward just doesn’t keep anything valuable. Edward doesn’t have valuables to hide from her, and though he has plenty to hide, it’s nothing she can steal and sell.
In reality, Edward doesn’t live there…exactly. He doesn’t have anywhere else to sleep or eat and this is his address on all the incoming mail, but Ed keeps his belongings sparse, required, always ready to throw everything into a suitcase and leave for somewhere else.
“I’m kind of glad he brought you here,” Alfonse confesses with a warm smile over the kitchen table. “Edward’s never shown interest in a girl before. I mean, he doesn’t show much interest in people at all. It’s kind of a relief.”
Alfonse doesn’t trip over himself explaining, but Noah remembers the turn of phrase.
Edward lives his life ready and aching to be somewhere else, eager to fly off, and Noah isn’t the only who’s noticed. She hears what Alfonse really means, knows why he welcomes her and allows her presence, tolerates her even though her chocolate skin is so much darker than his, even though his hair is blond and eyes blue, and hers are black and dark brown.
Alfonse is nice to her-he wants her to stay.
Some of that kindness is probably natural, genuine, she thinks, and then Edward steps into the room to grab a cup of coffee and bagel before running off to somewhere else. Alfonse looks up at him and smiles, his eyes lighting up, his shoulders relaxing and his white skin darkening, just a little around his ears and cheeks.
Ed seems to like her, so Alfonse wants her to stay.
Noah watches, sees what Edward doesn’t, and meets Alfonse’s eyes after Edward leaves the room again, mumbling incoherently around the bagel in his mouth about the idiots in the university and jerking his coffee mug around for emphasis. Alfonse looks away quickly.
He gets up from the table, gathering the plates, and twitches when she says, “He’s a good man.”
Alfonse watches her a moment too long, his face carved and careful.
“Yeah,” he turns his attention back to the table, to the chipped plates and moves to the sink. “Yes he is.”
“I’m sorry,” she watches the curve of his spine, the nape of his neck and guesses that Edward will never know and Alfonse will never say a thing. Alfonse has shown her gratitude openly, and now she can see the quiet subdued jealousy just as easily. “To put you to so much trouble.”
“Heh,” he shrugs. “It’s not too much trouble.”
“No,” she wants to see his face because it’s easier to read people that way, and wonders if this is one of the reasons his people hate hers, because she sees clearer than they do. “For him, I imagine it isn’t.”
***
Smile!! Though your life is miserable.
--Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Jhonen Vasquez
***
A/N: Er...not sure if this is obvious yet, but every Monday/Tuesday I'm trying to make a weekly post. Trying. Good word, keyword, trying is :D