Chapter Text
It's a perfect night.
Riza Hawkeye stands alone on the balcony of her apartment, staring out at East City and smiling at the sight; people walking down the sidewalks, cars driving up the roads, auburn leaves falling from the trees and being blown away by the cool autumn air.
After spending many months held hostage by Wrath and Pride, and many more months after that in a Central City hospital recovering from The Promised Day, this isn't too bad. She's back home in East City with a promotion and a much nicer apartment than she had before.
Across the hall from her in an apartment of his own is Roy Mustang. She had told him that it would be far more appropriate for him to live in a different complex, but he had the argument that they would be able to help each other while they finished recovering from their injuries, and that they could share his car easily with them living so close. They have been granted a lot of leniency for their help in the fight against the homunculi, and really, Roy had insisted, Fuhrer Grumman has been throwing jokes around about them getting married for ages, so what does it matter if anyone thinks they're together?
As if the anti-fraternization laws are what she's afraid of.
Riza sighs, staring up at the night sky. It's not as polluted by city light as it was in Central, meaning that she can see some stars in the splotches of dark blue that aren't covered by wispy clouds.
It would be so easy to give into it, to have Roy standing right here with her on the balcony. Instead of living separately, they'd stay in this apartment together, sleep in the same bed, and finally do all of the things that they've both been so carefully avoiding for years. They could come up with excuses, avoid telling people openly, keep renting the extra unit to hide the fact that they're cohabiting. They've already had to hide their unspoken feelings for each other at work for years, so Riza can't imagine it would be too much different once they've openly acknowledged whatever the hell is going on between them.
So, no, the anti-fraternization laws aren't what she's afraid of. What she's afraid of is the change, and of the consequences that will come from that change. There is a part of her that is irrationally terrified that she is only appealing to Roy because he can't have her. He has always wanted the things she can't have, and she has had far too many nightmares of him finally getting his hands on her, only to get bored and throw her away like garbage. Is it realistic? No. Is it in the back of her mind anyways? Yes. Even if their relationship were perfectly fine, even if he's decent and they are somehow able to work through all of the issues and the conflict, she doesn't want to know how it would change him. Would he still prioritize their mission the same way? Would he go further off the deep end if something happened to her like it had to Maes?
Her thoughts are interrupted by Black Hayate. She left the screen door open, and he's come to join her, barking by her feet. That usually means that someone is at the door.
At this time, it could only be Roy. They've only just moved back to East City, and the only other people who have her new address are Rebecca and the rest of their team, all of whom are still in the midst of moving back like they had.
She walks inside and shuts the screen door with Black Hayate following her all the way to the front. Unsurprisingly, she looks through the peephole to see Roy Mustang. Surprisingly, he's standing there with a bouquet of red tulips held in hand and what looks like a glass vase tucked under one of his arms. They're supposed to start back at work tomorrow and she doesn't even want to know why he's here at this time of night with flowers, but she finds herself unable to resist and opens the door to say-
"Good evening, sir."
"Good evening," Roy greets. He is in an outfit that Riza recognizes as part of his autumn wardrobe; a green turtleneck, a chestnut-hued quilted jacket, dark pants, and brown loafers. His hair is untamed and windswept like he's just been outside. But worst of all are his eyes, which are so soft and warm as he looks at her with that endearing smile that makes her heart pound. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this. I know it's late."
"Not at all."
"I'm sure you can probably guess, but I just came to drop these off for you."
He holds both the bouquet and the slim glass vase towards her, his smile growing. Riza can't bear to reject him. At the same time, she knows that she probably should- for both of their sakes.
"Sir…"
"I've been wanting to buy you a vase ever since you told me you didn't have one, and it'd be rude to bring you a vase without any flowers to put in it, don't you think? And I'm sure you could stand to spruce up the new place. As clean as you keep it, it's almost more barren than mine," The idea of accepting flowers from him was much less daunting back when Riza was pretty sure they were both going to die come Promised Day, and even then, she hadn't accepted them out of fear of endangering Roy. Now… Well, the circumstances aren't quite so severe, but it somehow seems just as terrifying now. That creeping fear must be evident in her face, because Roy smiles at her like she's being ridiculous and says- "Oh, come on. It's not that big of a deal, is it?"
"I suppose not," Hesitantly, Riza takes both the flowers and the vase. She sets them on the shelf she has by the entryway before turning to him again. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome."
They linger like that for a moment, with Riza praying that he will leave, yet also praying that he will ask to come inside. He does neither of these things, instead reaching into his back pocket to pull out a silver key, that of which he puts in her hands. Their fingers brush and send electricity sparking through her skin.
"Is this…?"
"A spare key," He answers. She'd have guessed that easily if she weren't so damn flustered by Roy's presence, and that's the problem with him, really- the fact that he makes her weak. "You know, for emergencies. Figured it'd be convenient since you're right across from me."
"Are you sure that's appropriate?"
"Who cares?" He shrugs. "It's not like anyone has to know, anyway."
He sounds just as uncertain as she feels, and they both look away from each other.
"Right…"
An awkward pause. Then-
"I'll leave you to it," Roy clears his throat as Riza puts the key on the shelf with the vase and flowers. "Have a good night."
"You, too," She goes to close the door, but stops herself short, calling out to him as he walks away. "And one more thing?"
"Hm?"
"I'll get a spare made for you to have as well whenever I get the chance… You know. For emergencies."
"Sounds good."
The smile he gives her is blinding and warm like the sun. Riza feels her face flush red as she shuts the door. Why is it suddenly so hot for an autumn evening…?
Over the next few weeks, the flowers keep coming. When the red tulips die, they're replaced with pink roses left at her work desk. When those die, she finds white peonies at her doorstep with a box of pumpkin-flavored macarons from the local bakery. Then, after the peonies inevitably kick the bucket, he comes to her door again to deliver not a bouquet, but a potted plant; an expensive purple orchid.
Riza kills it immediately despite her best efforts. He laughs it off when she mentions the filicide of the poor flower and buys her a pot of marigolds instead, saying he heard that they're practically impossible to kill. She appreciates it more than she should.
The marigolds taunt her from their yellow clay pot as she stands alone, washing dishes. They're in the windowsill across from her, alive and prospering even after a week of being cared for by her killer's hands, decorating the tiny spot in her kitchen with their vibrant green stems and reddish orange petals.
She is anxious. That, of course, is why she's awake at three in the morning doing dishes. During the separation that had led up to The Promised Day, she had been able to cope with her anxiety by telling herself that there was nothing she could do and that they were all probably going to die. All she had to do was try her damnedest not to, and if they lived without compromising their mission, it would be a miracle. Now that the miracle has happened, she isn't sure how to function. She hadn't expected to be alive or for life to return to something so… Normal. Routine. Every day, she and Roy have been going to work, doing the things to better the country that they've been wanting to do for years with the help of her grandfather, and living relatively peaceful lives.
That's what makes it so infuriating that she's up at three in the morning doing dishes in an attempt to stave off the anxiety attack that she is currently having over Roy. All of it feels too good to be true, leaving her worried about him constantly. She thinks about irrational, terrible things, like someone breaking into his apartment in the middle of the night and murdering him while he sleeps, or him having a heart attack or a brain aneurysm and dying on that old leather couch of his. It is entirely stupid, hence why she has never voiced these anxious thoughts to him, but some nights, they just won't go away…
She finishes washing the dishes and cleans her hands. Less than three hours until she has to be up for her shift and she's still absolutely wired, and there's nothing she can do about it. Calling Roy and waking him up to check on him would be insane-
Right then, she remembers the spare key. It has been sitting in her purse for weeks, unused. He had said it was meant for emergencies, but they're familiar enough with each other that Riza figures he… Probably wouldn't mind her coming to check on him. She won't wake him up- she'll just pop in, check that he's breathing, and pop right back out.
With that thought, she finds her purse, retrieves the key, puts her slippers on, and creeps across the hall to Roy's apartment.
Sticking the key into the lock and getting it open without causing too much noise feels like disarming a bomb. Somehow, she's able to do this and slide into the apartment with ease. She is relieved not to find him on the couch.
The layout to his apartment is identical to hers and thus easy to navigate; large living room right in front of the entryway, open kitchen to the left, hallway to the right. She goes down the hall past the first door, which is the bathroom, and to the second door, which is his bedroom. It's unlocked, so she opens it and steps in. A sigh of relief leaves her the moment she sees Roy lying in the middle of the bed with his blanket kicked off to the floor. He's shirtless, dressed in a pair of red plaid pajama pants as he lies on his side cuddling the body pillow that's held tight in his muscular arms. He looks… Cute. Relaxed. And much, much more innocent than he really is.
He's definitely alive. The breaths that he lets out against the pillow are heavy but steady, and he moves occasionally, snuggling into the stuffed cotton like he can't get close enough to it. It's nice seeing him like this, but Riza knows better than to linger when this is already so strange. She only came to check on him, and he's fine, so she should just leave now, right?
Though… It's not like he's waking up any time soon. Maybe she can enjoy this for just a little longer.