[Fullmetal Alchemist] Conjured Foundation
Title: Conjured Foundation
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: K+
Characters: Edward/Winry
Word Count: 659; Short short
[Written for 31_days; July 18, 2006 - Days of grass and sun]
“Hey.” He’s lying on the grass with an arm and a leg gone, facing the sun. He props up his elbow to rest his chin on a hand and boredom is evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, he’ll never say ‘I’m bored’ when she’s sitting next to him, her tools out and ready to remedy the separated automail.
“What?” She says, glancing at him and speaking through teeth that held the wrench between. (She almost looks as fresh as day, but she is no ordinary girl.)
“Why are you fixing them up out here?” The lift of an eyebrow, the mouth moving to one side after it closes. He is predictable when it comes to facial language and she can name each and every single one-from a little irritation to a silence full of sadness.
“Because,” she tells him, taking out the wrench to undo a screw, “the weather’s nice.”
He frowns again, unknowingly, suspiciously. “I’m out here too, you know. It was kind of pointless to detach the thing.”
She gives him a hard worker’s grin. “Yeah, well, it’s easier to manage when you aren’t fumbling.”
He closes his eyes. The frown is still there. “I don’t fumble.”
She shrugs and gets back to her work, though her lips hint and threaten to get to a growing smile.
He can watch her for hours when she’s so intent on getting the automails repaired; she takes a new breath and look when her arms take one move after another, and a new vision when she secures her gloves back on. Her determination is prominent-he’s sure she would have won some award for being the most persistent woman if she were to live in another universe. But as it is, he has already awarded her that very title, he just never lets her know.
Persistent means she is also stubborn, but it gives her credit for being the constant, the world’s constant and even his. Sometimes he thinks of her as a standstill point that he can come back to, the house of the Elric brother’s familiar hometown that they can travel to and tell Granny Pinako and Winry about their stories (though Al does most of the talking).
“You’re pondering too much,” she comments out of the blue, and he nearly jumps. She’s about to laugh but controls it by clearing her throat, and he shoots her a mild glare.
“I’m not-at least not about complicated stuff anyway.” He reaches out with his hand of flesh and gently grabs the automail arm. “When do you think it’s going to be done?”
“Hmm, depends,” she nonchalantly answers, “but not too long to keep you from your journey.”
He sinks to the ground and puts his face to the grass. “I don’t know where to go.”
“Eh? No destination?” She sounds more surprised than he hoped she would (and a pang of guilt runs through him, as if he has to move on, I can’t make anyone worry about me, so I must go on).
He glowers like a child. “What, you expect me to find a place to leave to every time I get back here?”
She blinks, her eyes as big as round gems. (He watches her distracted, tilting her head to one side but only slightly, the angle of her neck and head not too bent.) “Not really, but since you and Al are always so busy…”
“Taking a rest,” he assures her, lying on his back once more to prove the relaxation he needs. He covers his eyes with his hand as if taking a nap. “We’re humans, after all.”
She smiles brightly (and he cannot see it but he can feel it, the grass tickling his skin all the while) and not a minute passes by before he hears the sounds of metal against metal in his wake as an alchemist and a boy; a simple boy, just one boy.
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: K+
Characters: Edward/Winry
Word Count: 659; Short short
[Written for 31_days; July 18, 2006 - Days of grass and sun]
“Hey.” He’s lying on the grass with an arm and a leg gone, facing the sun. He props up his elbow to rest his chin on a hand and boredom is evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, he’ll never say ‘I’m bored’ when she’s sitting next to him, her tools out and ready to remedy the separated automail.
“What?” She says, glancing at him and speaking through teeth that held the wrench between. (She almost looks as fresh as day, but she is no ordinary girl.)
“Why are you fixing them up out here?” The lift of an eyebrow, the mouth moving to one side after it closes. He is predictable when it comes to facial language and she can name each and every single one-from a little irritation to a silence full of sadness.
“Because,” she tells him, taking out the wrench to undo a screw, “the weather’s nice.”
He frowns again, unknowingly, suspiciously. “I’m out here too, you know. It was kind of pointless to detach the thing.”
She gives him a hard worker’s grin. “Yeah, well, it’s easier to manage when you aren’t fumbling.”
He closes his eyes. The frown is still there. “I don’t fumble.”
She shrugs and gets back to her work, though her lips hint and threaten to get to a growing smile.
He can watch her for hours when she’s so intent on getting the automails repaired; she takes a new breath and look when her arms take one move after another, and a new vision when she secures her gloves back on. Her determination is prominent-he’s sure she would have won some award for being the most persistent woman if she were to live in another universe. But as it is, he has already awarded her that very title, he just never lets her know.
Persistent means she is also stubborn, but it gives her credit for being the constant, the world’s constant and even his. Sometimes he thinks of her as a standstill point that he can come back to, the house of the Elric brother’s familiar hometown that they can travel to and tell Granny Pinako and Winry about their stories (though Al does most of the talking).
“You’re pondering too much,” she comments out of the blue, and he nearly jumps. She’s about to laugh but controls it by clearing her throat, and he shoots her a mild glare.
“I’m not-at least not about complicated stuff anyway.” He reaches out with his hand of flesh and gently grabs the automail arm. “When do you think it’s going to be done?”
“Hmm, depends,” she nonchalantly answers, “but not too long to keep you from your journey.”
He sinks to the ground and puts his face to the grass. “I don’t know where to go.”
“Eh? No destination?” She sounds more surprised than he hoped she would (and a pang of guilt runs through him, as if he has to move on, I can’t make anyone worry about me, so I must go on).
He glowers like a child. “What, you expect me to find a place to leave to every time I get back here?”
She blinks, her eyes as big as round gems. (He watches her distracted, tilting her head to one side but only slightly, the angle of her neck and head not too bent.) “Not really, but since you and Al are always so busy…”
“Taking a rest,” he assures her, lying on his back once more to prove the relaxation he needs. He covers his eyes with his hand as if taking a nap. “We’re humans, after all.”
She smiles brightly (and he cannot see it but he can feel it, the grass tickling his skin all the while) and not a minute passes by before he hears the sounds of metal against metal in his wake as an alchemist and a boy; a simple boy, just one boy.