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Edward doesn't understand why, but he imagined Winry's skin as cold as an ice sculpture.
Now, after he has taken off her white dress that made her look like a nymph in a painting, Winry is warm; and it's a good heat that doesn't burn but is just cherishing him, welcoming him.
He touches her with a devotion that is almost insane and, although so far they've only undressed each other in silence with the tips of their fingers, he's already short of breath.
There are few sights such pleasant to the eye. Like a wide cotton field when it's in the bloom. So pure, like an immaculate expanse of light, new-fallen snow. Edward kisses her, tracing her curves gently, as if he were afraid of ruining his Winry.
He would like to protect her. Because Winry is strong, but he's always afraid that someone could take her away - Truth knows where -, far from him who loves her madly like the desperate idiot he is.
"Win..."
"Yup?" she asks and gently removes the elastic from his hair. It now falls loose around his shoulders, framing his face on either side like a golden waterfall.
Caught off guard, he brushes his hair away.
He feels uncovered, clumsy without that elastic band that keeps his hair well tucked up in a ponytail. And he knows it, he knows perfectly well that it's stupid since he's not wearing any underwear now. But it's something that gives him confidence, a sense of order, as he needs it to get a grip on the situation, or at least that's what he says to himself when he chickens out.
What was he going to tell her? He doesn't remember.
It's his first time, their first time, and he doesn't want to ruin everything by saying the wrong thing - as usual - or by bringing out useless speeches because of his absurd paranoia.
Of course, if his hands didn't shake like that, maybe it would be easier.
Ed made Winry feel sick several times and now he's fucking afraid of doing it again even just breathing.
"Sorry," he murmurs, bending down to wrap her in what is half a shy kiss and half an awkward hug.
Ed is nervous, insecure and trembling - he's afraid of making a mistake, of not being up to it, - but then Winry whispers a faint order:
"Touch me, Ed."
Taking his free hand in hers, she places it on her breast and every hesitation is annihilated, becoming fire under his fingers.
He presses his cheek against Winry's, running his fingers through her blond hair, inhaling the familiar scent that, when he was away, always came back to brush his thoughts.
It's absurd. She's absurd.
"Edo... Your beard is starting to grow," Winry suddenly says.
Ed loves it when she calls him.
Edo - Winry says it like this, Edo, with her shining eyes and that "O" so sweet, almost whispered. Edo, she uses it all the time, and it's absurd how he could love such a thing. Everyone calls him that, it's his name. She always called him that. How can you lose your mind for an Edo?
"Beard... R-really?"
"Yep."
"Thanks," Ed says stupidly, and she draws him against her.
They chuckle together because they kiss with less attention and innocence than before, and Ed's bangs are still in the way, tickling her nose.
"I can't see anything," he complains faintly and his voice cracks at the end of the sentence.
She giggles shaking her head simultaneously with the sound.
"Then come closer," she says making fun of him and smiles softly.
But Ed obeys anyway, taking a deep breath when he hangs over her, gently spreading her milky white legs.
He braces most of his weight on his elbows beside her shoulders. A tender touch upon her cheek lures her to respond angling her head toward his caress. His fingers slide through her hair, then his mouth gently covers hers. She sinks into the kiss, soft as silk, slow as a lazy summer breeze.
As if of their own will, her arms reach out to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.
He presses feather-light kisses over her brow and moves slowly downward until he reaches her lips again. Closing his hands on her wrists, he puts himself on top of her as much as he can, hinting a small push that leaves both of them breathless.
"W-Win..."
He enters deeper and, in a moment, the whole world floats in the air, gravity ceases to exist.
There are just damp, muffled sounds and Winry's body opening naturally to Ed's initially clumsy thrusts.
She tries to guide him with her thighs, placing him just where she wants him to be. He follows obediently, and takes it as a sign to intensify his efforts.
The mere sight of his lover's eyes makes every fear disappear, leaving room only for his desire to become one with her.
His motion is slow and gentle, steady and pleasing, he doesn't want to rush or scare her. They move together well and he leans down and kiss her occasionally because he can't help himself.
Again, skimming over her smooth skin while their hips come together in a labored, confused but perfect rhythm, his heart races wildly, his lungs gasp for air. To Ed, it seems to have to learn how to breathe again when he catches a glimpse of her face. Her raptured expression suggests both pleasure and pain in exquisite extremes.
If happy dreams had a face, a color and a perfume, they would be Winry's at that moment. There is, it's true, a blissful little uplifted look about her which she herself is not aware of. She gives him a look of being ecstatically happy and yet almost shy and appealing at the same time.
Holding that image between his half-closed lashes, Ed starts to move with more urgency, feeling the girl indulge him and do the same.
"Edo!"
A moan escapes her lips and that is his undoing. Like a rubber band snapping some sense into him. She's there panting and exposed, breathless and aroused.
Because of him.
"Winry!"
His thrusting intensifies, shivers cling to him scratching his muscles, pleasure bathes in violent colors and finally explodes for an eternal second.
"Edo ..."
She's still breathing his name. The corner of Ed's mouth lifted in a hint of a smile.