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The Goddess Of The Moon - A reader x Hoseok drabble

Author's note: So... uh... I don't really know if this is as good is I think it is since it's my first time trying to write a lil drabble (or really anything actually. I wrote this a long time ago... about a month or so) But, I hope that whoever stumbled across this would like it! Pst, it's not proof read... yet.

Fandom: BTS- Bangtan Sonyeondan

Genre: Angst (I guess?) Hints of fluff

Summary: None, I'll just let the title tell you itself :)

Word count: 1.7k ish

Enjoy~

A century ago

"Do you think it's beautiful?"

"What is?"

"The moon. It's yellow tonight, just like a ball of gold."

"It is a ball of gold." She smiles at his words. She could even see the way his heart throbs in his chest, him returning the smile and pulled her closer against him.

"How so?"

"Look at it." He whispers softly, eyes gleaming when he took a glance at the yellowish moon that hung in the sky.

"It holds so many secrets of the past, and holds it's beauty deep inside itself. No one could truly understand the beauty of the moon, not even me." He looks at her and grins once again, his lips forming a heart shaped smile that rivals the sun itself.

"Nor you."

He did not know what his words ment to her, how it lifts her up after so many centuries of sitting alone, only the moon to keep her company.

"Do you see?"

Present

"Yes... I do, Hoseok. I do see it." She sits on her pedestal like balcony, gazing at the lonely moon, just like her. The lonely Goddess, of the lonely moon.

A lone tear slips down her left cheek onto the concrete below her, sparkling in the moonlight.

She made a mistake.

A bitter sweet mistake of falling in love with a mortal, a mere human. She never ment to, but one often meets their destiny on the road they take to avoid it.

The Gods are just like the mortals below them. The only difference between them is their power, and their immortality.

Humans could only live up to ninety years max, a hundred if lucky enough. While Gods reincarnate whenever they want. Most Gods choose to reincarnate during their late fifties. A lot changes in fifty years, but one thing never changes.

Memories.

His beautiful heart-shaped smile, revealing his pearly whites that reflected his kindness and innocence, the faint mole that dotted his upper lip, the way he laughs, the way his cheekbones lift even higher when he does so, and the way his eyes hold the entire galaxy inside them.

The list would go on and on and on. Just like his love for her.

And her love for him.

Fin.

𝙉𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

(2/?)

First ☆ next

!Tw: person metionned by "it"

She looks him up and down, noticing some of his traits: long straight blond hair, laying on his shoulders, grey eyes like she has never seen before, as she studies him, their eyes meet. She's unable to look away because he's watching her with such a soft gaze that even tho she's freezing in her thin lab gown, she feels a warm feeling inside of her. Her heartbeat is rushing.

Then, all of a sudden, an alarm is heard in the room, its quiet sound is enough to break the silence and brutally bring her back to reality. "I'm afraid we have to go, right Edouard ?"

"sure father." He then looks down almost with shame and starts walking his way to the exit.

She can only watch as the two of them leave the room in a hurry.

While she is still processing the whole situation, she doesn't hear one of the guards calling her number. He suddently grabs her arm, startling her. "Can't you hear it when I'm calling you ? I would've guessed otherwise seeing those stupid ears of yours."

She looks up at him, dumb founded before looking back down with shame. He then starts dragging her to her cell.

When they arrive, he throws her in the room before slamming the metal door and locking it.

As she thought her situation couldn't get worse, she notices water dripping from the ceilling anf into a bucket on the ground, talking of buckets, there was another one nearby for her personal use. She looks around for a bit, disgusted at the terrible state of the cell: cracks on the walls, rats' rotten corpses laying in the corners...

Then, she turns around to see the rest of the room and ends up facing metal bars. She walks closer, curious about what's on the other side. As she reaches them, she starts hearing a loud breath, she tries to pass her head trought the bars to get a better view and jump back at what she sees. A enormous corpse, laying in a gigantic cell next to hers. Luckly, it seems dead: pale skin with blue tones in it, short dirty blond hair, bandages all over its body which is covered in scars.

She slowly walks back near the metal bars but then, it hits her: she heard a breath. As she's still thinking the whole situation trough, the corpse starts moving. She is terrified as what is happening before her: it's slowly getting on its knees and directly looking at her. She's finally able to see its huge eyeballs and its deep black pupils.

As it finally seems to be done rising. It's sat and is looking right at her. The only thing between them is these thin metal bars. At that thought, she feels a shivering throught a whole being followed by a warm dripping sensation between her legs, she realises she just pissed herself

What the fuck is that ?!

Thoughts are rushing trought her mind when she hears a ground shaking sound:

"H-hi there...are you new here ?"

It's talking ?!

These words are followed by a heaving silence until the creature breaks it by talking again,

"You can't- talk ?"

She hears its words because of how loud it is but is clearly not listening. Her attention is focused on those enormous eyeballs, it's also the only thing she can see: the giant being is sat directly in front of her cell, bending to see her inside her cell.

"aren't you gonna respond ?"

Not wanting to make it mad, she tries to focuse on what it's asking her.

"..."

She opens her mouth to speak but again, nothing comes out of it.

"Oh, so you really can't speak..."

She shakes her head in agreement.

"It's okay, do you have a name ?"

She shakes her head to say no.

"A number perhaps ?"

She shakes her head again to say yes.

"try to show me with your hands"

She's about to do what it says but stops halfway trought.

"Something's wrong ? You don't know your number ?"

She slowly raises her paws with shame.

"Oh ! Well that's unexpected-"

She looks down, frozen. She hates her paws, they remind her of the lab, of her father who left her, those sufferings that she's desperatly trying to forget. Everytime she looks at them, thoses memory flush back in her mind. Tears start to form in her eyes.

The being in front of her is quiet, not knowing what to do.

"Could you walk closer so I can get a better view of you ?"

Surely, this is the last thing she wants to do but at the same time, she doesn't wanna upset it.

She walks closer to the bars, almost tripping because of the liquid on the ground.

When she reaches the limits of her cell, the giant being bends lower and squints its huge eyes.

"You're cute. I couldn't get a good look since you're so small but now I can see you better."

She blushes at its words, and quickly turns around.

"Now that I think of it, I didn't introduce myself-"

It shifts its position before speaking again,

"My name is Serathe."

She wants to ask so many question such as what are you ? Why are you so big ? How long have you been here ? What is this place ? But she has no way to say it. She lost her ability to talk years ago because everytime she screamed, the scientists would electro shock her, over time, she had learnt to stay quiet and without noticing it, never speaking again.

But now she would give anything to speak again. After a minute and with all her might, she opens her mouth again and is finally able to let out a sound:

"sor teen"

It's not much but even tho her voices is cracked and it's hard to understand, she managed to speak.

"So you can speak, is that your number ?"

As she's about to try to speak again, the door opens and two guards walk in but stop as soon as they see the giant form 14 is talking with. They both pull out a weapon and point it in its direction,

"Get away from subject 14 monster !"

14's mouth drops at thoses words. She then looks back at the giant and is horrified at the angry expression on its face. She steps back and puts her back on her nearby wall, expecting it to destroy thoses thin bars separating them and kill the two men but instead, it pulls itself away from them. She can now see it better, the first thing that comes to mind being: it's a girl !?

One of the guards calls her number and waves at her to come with them. She quickly gets up and follows them, looking back one last time at the girl that is apparently getting back to sleep.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

Thank you for reading part 2 !!

Sorry if this one was a bit short, I rushed it because I didn't wanna keep you guys waiting any longuer (it's been month) .

Heyyyyy :D 1, 2, 4, 11 and 28 with Morgkley for the ask thingy pleaseeee

As you wish, 7w7

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Morgana.

How? You mean apart from kissing Beakley senseless the moment she laid eyes on her?

She... wasn't exactly subtle with her infatuation towards Bentina either.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Morgana. She gets nervous around Bentina (I mean, who doesn't want to impress their crush?) and is terrified of being rejected by the people around her, either because something she did or because of what she is (not all her past experiences have been pleasant). Which makes her do some mistakes on her spellcasting, which only makes dangerous situations even worse, which fuels her fear of Beakley rejecting her because she messed up, oh dear, she messed up so so so so bad, how did she mess up like that?? It was a simple spell!!!??? Even a toddler could have done that calculation!!!

Usually a small touch on her shoulder is enough to distract her from the storm inside her head.

Beakley insists on Morgana tagging along anyways and reassures her that her spellcasting is getting better. But what really does the trick is when she realizes that Bentina has blind faith that Morgana will have her back and that she is still fully capable to fend off by herself if the witch ever fails to do so. She DOESN'T NEED someone by her side, yet Bentina Beakley allows herself to be vulnerable around Morgana even after all the times she felt like she had messed up because she TRUSTS her and WANTS her. And Beakley is a trained spy. She's never wrong when it comes to trusting people. So maybe, just maybe, she's not doing it as bad as she first thought.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Also Morgana (dang, three on a row XD).

She's by far the most touchy and cuddly of the two (Beakley is rarely affectionate in public) and even if it's just something simple like linking their arms and leaning on her shoulder or grabbing one of Beakley's hands with both of hers and staying impossibly close while rambles excitedly about something, she's always in Beakley's personal space (not that it bothers Bentina. That's how Morgana is and Beakley silently adores and welcomes it)

11. What do they hide from one another?

Morgana is doing a parallel investigation about Magica's whereabouts behind the rest's backs. She's furious about how Magica treated and used Lena and, as a fellow sorcerer, feels like it's her duty to stop her. Dealing with a magical user can be very dangerous and doesn't want to put the others (specially Lena, Webby and Beakley) in danger. She also uses the sleep sand to make sure that Lena's dreams are pleasing and to kick away any nightmare, specially if it's about a certain green feathered witch.

Last, but not least, her family has tried to talk her out of her relationship with Beakley countless times, but there's no way she's telling Bentina that. (Beakley noticed on her own, but hasn't said anything either)

Beakley watches Morgana sleep almost every day (again, they have pretty different schedules so it's not difficult).

She also isn't extremely fond of ghouls' food yet. Yes, it's actually tasty and good once she finally catches and eats it, but Bentina is still a little weirded out when her food is clearly trying to walk away or wants to strangle her. (Of course, she doesn't tell Morgana. She's fully aware how proud she's of her cooking and there's no real complaining apart from "it's moving and I'm not used to that". Beakley can deal with that)

28. Why do they get jealous?

Bentina gets a little bit jealous about the way Morgana talks to and cuddles all her pets. And she feels absolutely stupid about it because she's jealous of a random spider Morgana just found on the street, but the moment Morg starts cooing at it, Bentina is immediately like "god, wish that were me"

Morgana is jealous of the relationship between Beakley and Scrooge. She's not afraid of Scrooge taking Beakley away from her and all that nonsense. Bentina loves HER and Scrooge is extremely supportive about that. Besides, she's aware that the relationship between those two is 100% platonic. But she sees how they barely need words to understand each other. She notices how much they care about each other. They can work together with a single glance yet they argue like an old married couple at the slightest chance. They raise each other up even though they know so much about the other that they could figuratively and literally ruin their life. They have enough mutual trust that they allow themselves to be vulnerable because they know it's safe and at the same time they drive each other mad. It's the kind of intimate bond it takes decades of mutual appreciation, love, support and convivence to achieve. Morgana wishes that she could have something like that with Beakley, except romantic instead of platonic.

But it's only a matter of time ;3

So, uh, this is awkward...

@a-small-collection-of-nonsense

❤️HAPPY (LATE) BIRTHDAY SADIE!!!❤️

I'm sorry I took that long, every time I wondered what to draw you my brain kept yelling "EVERYTHING". Then we started talking about Team Magic and it felt perfect.

Listen. You're so sweet and kind and wonderful!!?

Your headcanons are the best!! And not to mention your fics?!! Your writing style is amazing and the characterization is so flawless?!! And the topics and characters you use??!! Ajsgajshhajahsh definitely my favorites!!

I always have a blast talking to you, KEEP BEING AWESOME STARLIGHT!!

howdy! For the ask prompts can you please write 1 with Giant!Shlatt and Tiny!Quackity? -⭐️

Hi! Sorry that this one is so short! I don't watch Schlatt so all I really know is from like DSMP lore and stuff LOL

So he's not going to be the kindest, so be aware. (As I'm typing this I have NO CLUE what I'm doing or where I'm going LMAO lets goooooo!)

Prompt from here!

Warnings for language, rough handling, threats, fear Word Count ~850

------Yes Sir------

To be completely honest, this was not Alex Quackity's brightest moment. He'd thought that he'd just hide out in this building until the storm outside was over, and he'd be fine.

He was wrong. The ram hybrid found him, and they were currently staring at each other, frozen and unmoving.

Not that Quackity could really go anywhere anyway. He was cornered.

Like, literally, he was on the floor in the corner of the room, his exit effective blocked by the hybrid. There was no way he'd be able to get behind the nearby bookshelf, the giant being would be too fast.

That didn't mean that he didn't try, though.

But the moment he tried to move that way, the hybrid had crossed the room and crouched in front of the tiny duck hybrid, eyeing him with a smirk. The movement combined with that intense gaze made Quackity scramble back, flinching harshly as his back met the wall.

"You're - uh - you're..." The ram hybrid seemed to be processing what he was seeing, and his brain seemed to buffer for a moment before he added a simple obvious, "small."

Nervous, impulsive laughter bubbled out of Quackity. "Yeah, no shit. I almost forgot." His heart was pounding, and his attempt at covering his nerves with.. whatever that just was was a failure. His voice quavered, his body wracked with intense shaking.

If anything, the human only looked more amuse now, his smirk growing even wider and more predatory. Something unsettling settled over Quackity at the gaze, his feathers ruffling up instinctively.

"You just keep getting better and better." The hybrid was speaking, but it sounded oddly like a threat.

And then there was a hand that shot out and wrapped around him before he could even think about moving. He yelped and squirmed, trying to push at the fingers wrapped tightly around him.

He felt sick as he was moved without his will, wind whipping past him. He felt dizzy and he was lifted and carried over to the hybrid's desk. The movement halted, and Quackity looked up at the face above him, which seemed to be considering something.

"Don't move." The voice reverberated oddly through his body, and Quackity honestly wasn't thinking much as he was shifted again.

As soon as his feet hit solid ground, his body was moving, stumbling and trying to bolt away from the threat. He didn't make it far, a shriek escaping him as that tight grip was around him again, yanking him back into the air. And right in front of the massive stubbled face.

"I said," the hybrid tsked, "don't. Move." He opened a drawer, rummaging around for a moment before he paused, looking back to the tiny being in his grip. "And I know you can understand me, which means that you're just being a little shit." His voice was dangerously even, and Quackity pushed as the grip around him with trembling arms, wings flapping uselessly behind him. That predatory gaze locked on his wings, smirk terrifyingly cold. "If you don't behave for me, I might just have to..."

He trailed off, and Quackity's heart thrummed quickly against his rib cage. He threw desperate hits at the thick skin around him, face wet with tears, though he could tell that his struggles meant absolutely nothing. But he fell absolutely still as those disgusting fingers pinched his wings, wide eyes shooting up to cold, dark ones.

The ram hybrid said nothing, just raising a brow, but Quackity got the message loud and clear.

"I-I'll be good. I'm sorry." His voice was thick and it shook, but the grip on his precious wings stayed.

"Mmmmm. I think I'm going to need a bit more from you." Quackity shuddered as those fingers rubbed uncomfortably against his feathers. "I need you to not talk back, try to run, and maybe a few other things down the line. Or," the rubbing stopped, and Quackity gasped as the pressure increased a bit. "you'll have to learn your lesson. Understood?"

"Yes!"

"Yes?" The ram hybrid tilted his head, curves horns glinting as lightning flashed in the distance. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir." And even though it sounded forced (mostly because it was) it seemed to satisfy him enough because the grip on his wings let up, and Quackity slumped a bit with relief.

"Schlatt?" A voice called from beyond the locked door, making both of their eye snap over to it. "We have policies to discuss. The meeting is in a few minutes, remember?"

"I'll be there!" Quackity flinched at the shout that his captor gave in return. The footsteps faded as the person walked away. "And you... Hm," he rummaged through his drawer again before pulling out a jar and struggling for a moment to remove the lid, "in you go then, hm?"

And then Quackity was dumped unceremoniously into the glass prison. His body ached from the rough grip and he winced. Yeah, that's going to leave some bruises alright.

The door clicked closed as his Schlatt left, and Quackity flinched at the loud sound it created. Quackity curled into himself, crying softly and hoping that this wouldn't be his forever.

(Another fanfic I guess. Work is boring. Using a Warlock Young Wolf because... I guess because I main one? That and describing robes in fics are like serotonin injected straight into my brain. YW will be using they/them pronouns, if any typos then I'm an idiot)

{In which the Witch Queen wonders about the other's silence}

The Young Wolf is content in their small hideaway within Mara Sov's Chambers. She isn't there yet from her meeting with whomever, so that gives the Guardian a place of silence to contemplate. But of course, there was one small issue.

"Hello Young Wolf." Savathun's drawl traced over the Guardian's head, threatening to scalp the outer layer of their mind.

The Guardian huffed.

This seems to surprise the Witch Queen, why it did, the Young Wolf didn't seem to care. The Witch Queen notes their posture. Cradled within a corner, watching the portal, twiddling their fingers. Hmm. Guardians are hardwired for combat, so one's fingers would naturally-

The Guardian stands. Their robes flow as they moved forward, and stand in front of the gates. Their small light, their Ghost emerges. Immediately the Guardian grabs their Ghost, who yelps out a "Hey!?" before being transmatted to wherever they go when they hide.

"You need not be so wary, Guardian. While I am encased within this prison, your Ghost is safe, not that I had the intention of harming them in the first place." Savathun whispers to the Guardian, who only gave a shrug in response.

There it is again, another gesture, another without a word. Savathun has heard them speak, but not directly to them, the Witch Queen. How can she bend and manipulate another, when they would not converse? Their silence is palpable and reeks of... of... Guilt? One of the most powerful creatures she has ever come across, possibly one of the closest in terms of the Final Shape, and it feels guilt? A stench of regret, a smear of wishing! Wishing what? Wishing to do more? What could this walking puppet of death and Light wish they could do, when they could do anything they so desired with their Light?

"Stop." A voice speaks, rough with edge. Of a veteran, of someone not so easily fooled.

Savathun's emotion surges, she feels her worm claw at it, but she tamps it down. The Guardian spoke to her! But about what? What do they mean stop?

A grunt could be heard from beneath the carapace helm of the Guardian, and Savathun looks more properly. Her thinking has flooded the room with her thoughts, and it seems to antagonize the Guardian.

From the swirling mist of her thoughts, a figure rose. The Guardian readied their weapon, a sleek white and black hand cannon. The shape completely solidifies, and the Guardian nearly drops their weapon out of surprise.

They choke out a word, a name, in their horror. "Cayde?"

Savathun mentally leans forward, a contemplative grin lacing her lips. She wills the green mist to dissipate.

The mist and the figure borne from it disappear leaving the Guardian to think for a moment before holstering their weapon and turning towards the portal.

Before they stepped through the Guardian calls in a angry voice, their robes whistling in furious undulation. "That was a foul trick. Be wary, O Witch Queen. For I know what tricks you may play."

The Witch Queen's eyes all narrow. What? What could they possibly talking about?

At that moment, Mara Sov enters the chambers, the Techeuns appearing shortly after. They sense the hostile aura and turn to the Guardian who has stepped aside to allow Mara Sov through.

Mara Sov gazes at the Guardian's helmet, aimed at the Witch Queen. It does not help that their aura betrays their intent. If the Witch Queen makes a wrong move before they stepped out, they would destroy the Witch Queen, prison, flesh and bone. All of it.

Stasis crackles around the Guardian's fingertips. Before disappearing away. They step through the portal, and are seen no more.

Mara Sov turns to Savathun and asks. "What was that all about?"

"A misunderstanding." Savathun lies easily through her teeth. She had gained an understanding.

Now. Who is 'Cayde?'

One of those conversations

(a Royai oneshot)

Roy hurried his way down the stairs. He had hated the rain ever since he put his gloves on. It has always reminded him of how useless he is. The Alchemist was about to exit Eastern Headquarters half an hour ago, but General Grumman felt the need to interrupt him with his unnecessary talks. And a game of chess. Which ended as a draw. Even if Roy wasn't in the mood (just like the weather), he had to admit that ending as a draw against Grumman was like a Philosopher's stone for his mood. However, the law of Equivalent exchange hadn't forgotten Mustang. He groaned as he quickly paced to his car in the spring downpour. After three minutes of rainy torture he got to his vehicle. He was soaking wet.

"If I ever go to Hell, I hope it never rains there", he thought while annoyance was picking on his nerves. Roy started the car after ruffling his already messy and moist hair. He'll be staying at a hotel tonight. He wasn't in the mood to drive or take a train all the way to Central and, as a State Alchemist, he could afford a good hotel. The Colonel was passing next to HQ when he looked at his rearview mirror. The Lieutenant. She was standing on the steps, obviously unwilling to take a step into the rain. A dark brown coat was covering her, not giving much better protection than the clothes underneath. He stopped his car and opened a window.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye!", he called.

Riza was snapped up by his voice and looked towards the road.

"Sir!", she exclaimed and noticed the wave of his hand, telling her to sit next to him. She ran swiftly, a ghost-smile perked up on her lips. A 'thank you' could be heard from her as she sat down next to him. Roy continued driving down the road.

"There's no need to thank me. I am just delighted that you aren't as soaked as I am. What were you doing now?"

"Finishing some work", Hawkeye replied, starting to look at the foggy window. After she wiped it with the palm of her hand so that the glass became see-trough, she continued: "Rebecca then felt it would be humorous to take my coat and make me chase her around."

Roy held back a laugh with a snort. "As expected of her. I really wish I could see your face then."

"We're lucky we didn't get caught."

"I am conflicted about you. It appears like you hated it but you sound like you had fun."

"It was fun hating it."

Roy sneezed. Riza stopped eyeing the city and turned towards him. He had rain in his hair, which made it look like black moss. Parking was always difficult in East City. Or at least around the Headquarters. She decided to exchange her question about his 'unfinished business' for a sentence:

"Colonel, you cannot go on a train like this."

"I won't. I am planning to get to a hotel and stay there. Besides, I can sleep a little longer if I cut the travelling time."

Riza smiled. It was doubtless that being state-certified made life a lot easier. Specially when unplanned troubles jump on the road. Guilt pinched her neck when she realised that Roy went the opposite way of the closest hotel so she can get safely home. He was cold no doubt. Soon they were sitting in comfortable silence. It lasted for a couple minutes which Riza used so she can fiddle with her gun. Roy noticed it and smirked:

"Always ready. Ready and prepared. One among many reasons I trust you with my back." He stopped at the crossroads and turned right.

"Many reasons? I would like to hear about them."

Roy chuckled. He then pondered for a moment. She was the only woman who could make him think about a compliment like he was weighing gold. Neither less nor more. Just as much as the customer says. If he gives more, he'll be damaged; if less, she'll be damaged.

"I would say a smaller one would be because I feel the need to watch your back as much as you do mine. I owe you. You saved me many times in Ishval. And.. I owe my master."

He didn't want to behold her eyes for that second. Riza wasn't very close with her father yet Roy felt like mentioning him hurts her. He gave an apologetical sigh. He's going trough with this.

"You are skilled. Disciplined. Brave. Shortly- you have qualities of a soldier." He paused to look at the Lieutenant.

She was now preparing her other gun. Her lips were shut tightly. Another person would think she was ignoring him. He knew she was paying close attention.

"Breaking the line of those qualities, you have another one. A line of qualities that are human. You are a moral compass more accurate than Falman's memory. You would never allow me to stray, Lieutenant. Furthermore, you grow as a person. You grew from someone timid, nervous and weak. You grew into a confident, strong and calm soldier. Hawkeye that I met long time ago would refuse to shoot me if I lost my way. I can trust this Hawkeye. I know she'll never chicken out, no matter how horrible things get."

"We were in Ishbal after all.", she said. Roy noted that her tone was more explanatory than humble.

"Thank you for those words. I don't know what to say." It was true. All the time she spent reading proved fruitless. She could think of an answer but it would never do justice to these words. Her having none wasn't a good one either. However it's an honest reply. That proves it to be worthy enough.

"Say nothing. I wasn't expecting one of those clever replies. Imagine I made a statement on the weather. You either agree or stay silent. I am not accepting negative retorts."

She heeded the advice. Her guns returned to their holsters and she wiped the window again so she could stare at the city. She couldn't do it for long. They were approaching her street and she wanted to fight against his fire with fire. She had difficulty igniting it. Maybe it's the rain.

"There's a reason I wish to guard your back, sir. Your back is ready and strong enough to carry the load of a leader. A man who can consciously carry the weight of his sins doesn't feel difficulties that will lead him to redemption. So you won't feel the difficulty of losing power if it leads to good. Colonel, you can communicate with people who follow. You don't listen because you feel like it's your duty, you listen because you care- you want to hear the other side. Ishval changed you too. You learned about being ruthless towards the Enemy. But, I know you too well to-"

"We have arrived Lieutenant" Roy said interrupting her. He didn't feel pleasant for doing so, but the Flame Alchemist wasn't like the infamous Hawk's eye- he couldn't sit patiently in one place for ages when he felt tense and his entire world was shaking. He decided to excuse himself.

"I am thankful for the praise, but I am aware of what you had in mind. It sounds condescending, but it is sincere. We should stop now, before this turns into a conversation of an improper length", he smiled, "Now, I would rather find a room and dry my wet head than freeze-"

"I'll have to do the interrupting now, sir. Wait here." She got her coat and pulled it across her head. Lieutenant reached her building in a few quick strides. She vanished behind the old, worn door only to return carrying a black scarf and a white towel in her hands. The Colonel gave a confused look as his Lieutenant sat next to him.

"Here sir." She said having in mind everything she didn't have the chance to say. "Wipe your wet head. You'll get sick."

Roy took the towel and rubbed his head roughly with it. Then, when he wanted to say something, Lieutenant interrupted him by enveloping the scarf around his neck. He silently observed her. Her hands, the one that he saw loading a gun, were gently wrapping the cloth around his neck. The scarf had a scent of a strong flower-like perfume. It was warm. Like an embrace. Her eyes were concentrated on tying an ascot knot. She killed many enemies while carrying that look. With this concentration. Words Mustang prepared were stuck in his throat. He should beg her to untie the scarf so he could get done with them. But he couldn't. He didn't want it. Roy wanted her to tie a billion more knots, on top of this one: so he can stare at her longer, if only a second.

Riza felt incredibly clumsy. The kind of tension that is in between them now has always been a mystery to her. She tried to wrap the scarf the best way she knew and then tried to loosen it up. It was difficult and his smell wasn't helping. It was... unusual. Last time Hawkeye felt his scent was the hell called Ishval. When she took Colonel's coat to warm up their sick comrade. It felt like ash...and blood- death. Now a fresh scent replaced it, throwing her off balance. The Lieutenant tried to ignore his alluring presence. To ignore his eyes who were still, like dark onyx stones. The inky stare was making Riza nervous. Those eyes were always so analytical and now they were chained onto her...in a daze? After finishing she hastily moved from him.

"Is it too tight?" She asked stoically.

"No" Roy responded. "Thanks. You really-"

"I know. I didn't have to. Drive safely sir."

Roy waited as Riza entered the building and stared at her, making the most of this moment. Just like every other time the curtain had finally fallen. He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. The stronger he pressed it, the more he felt it necessary to eliminate the painful regret. Ten seconds felt like ten minutes. The scarf was a warm comfort while the rain pattered on his windshield, unable to outvoice the thought.

He didn't tell her.