[ooc test post]
They sometimes mistake him for his brother. He’ll hear the beginnings of his title, or see the half-murmurs of "Ed-" on their lips. He frightens them with his resemblance-long hair, midnight leather, and a long, flowing cloak-but he understands. In their minds, they try to replace him with the other that is gone.
When he enters a room, they pause, waiting for the echoing footsteps of an empty suit of armor. But the footsteps never come. The hollowed was made flesh, and he dons his brother’s clothes in the hopes that when he finds him, Edward will recognize him, even if he’s not sure he’ll recognize Ed.
And he still hears them whisper. Never his name-only Ed’s. Because he frightens them (he knows). Everything he is and everything he embodies (sin made flesh at the price of another) makes them avoid his eyes. They do not want to see the result of Edward’s sacrifice or acknowledge the boy who can make power crack between his palms. He is not just the sin of his and his brother’s making, but so many others that make them question how close two brothers could be.
He is too perfect. A beauty too perfect to be real. The god that Edward made.
Winry still cries when she looks at him.
He doesn’t let it bother him, though. He knows what they see (the god and the god’s creator), and he sees it too. In the mirror above the sink, he does not see himself, but sees angry, golden eyes; flaxen, unbound hair; and an arm made of steel. When he wears his clothes, he sees Edward only, and he reaches out to him. Trying, vainly, to move through the glass to where Edward is. But he can never reach. So he leaves a kiss on the cold surface and continues his search elsewhere.
When he enters a room, they pause, waiting for the echoing footsteps of an empty suit of armor. But the footsteps never come. The hollowed was made flesh, and he dons his brother’s clothes in the hopes that when he finds him, Edward will recognize him, even if he’s not sure he’ll recognize Ed.
And he still hears them whisper. Never his name-only Ed’s. Because he frightens them (he knows). Everything he is and everything he embodies (sin made flesh at the price of another) makes them avoid his eyes. They do not want to see the result of Edward’s sacrifice or acknowledge the boy who can make power crack between his palms. He is not just the sin of his and his brother’s making, but so many others that make them question how close two brothers could be.
He is too perfect. A beauty too perfect to be real. The god that Edward made.
Winry still cries when she looks at him.
He doesn’t let it bother him, though. He knows what they see (the god and the god’s creator), and he sees it too. In the mirror above the sink, he does not see himself, but sees angry, golden eyes; flaxen, unbound hair; and an arm made of steel. When he wears his clothes, he sees Edward only, and he reaches out to him. Trying, vainly, to move through the glass to where Edward is. But he can never reach. So he leaves a kiss on the cold surface and continues his search elsewhere.