Alphabet Drabbles
Alphabet drabbles main post.
Written by evil_little_dog
Rating: Errrr...T for Teen(ish)?
Summary: Summary? Jeeeze...I'll tell you the fandom and a title, 'kay?
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The Weight of the World
Fullmetal Alchemist - FMA anime - Roy
For salomesensei -
* * *
The glass is dewed with condensation, slick in your hand as you pick it up. The whiskey inside is cold but only a swallow is left. You set the glass back down, tapping the bar so the bartender will fill your glass.
A familiar bulk sits next to you, adjusts the bar stool. "So, how many does that make, Roy?"
"Not enough," you say, watching as the bartender gets you a fresh glass and, when you nod, one for Maes. He picks up his glass, he drinks. You close your eyes, trying to blot out everything that had happened on that trip out into the eastern middle of nowhere. The sign on the front of that yellow house should have warned you but it wasn't until you caught a glimpse of pale blond hair; bright blue eyes, that you realized and everything came slamming back: Ishbal; the heat and the sand; the stench of smoke and the taste of cooked fat on your mouth. Walking into a canvas medical unit, where two married doctors turned and smiled, until they saw the barrel of the gun pointed at them.
"Not enough," you repeat, and down another glass.
* * *
Written by evil_little_dog
Rating: Errrr...T for Teen(ish)?
Summary: Summary? Jeeeze...I'll tell you the fandom and a title, 'kay?
_______________________________________________
The Weight of the World
Fullmetal Alchemist - FMA anime - Roy
For salomesensei -
* * *
The glass is dewed with condensation, slick in your hand as you pick it up. The whiskey inside is cold but only a swallow is left. You set the glass back down, tapping the bar so the bartender will fill your glass.
A familiar bulk sits next to you, adjusts the bar stool. "So, how many does that make, Roy?"
"Not enough," you say, watching as the bartender gets you a fresh glass and, when you nod, one for Maes. He picks up his glass, he drinks. You close your eyes, trying to blot out everything that had happened on that trip out into the eastern middle of nowhere. The sign on the front of that yellow house should have warned you but it wasn't until you caught a glimpse of pale blond hair; bright blue eyes, that you realized and everything came slamming back: Ishbal; the heat and the sand; the stench of smoke and the taste of cooked fat on your mouth. Walking into a canvas medical unit, where two married doctors turned and smiled, until they saw the barrel of the gun pointed at them.
"Not enough," you repeat, and down another glass.
* * *