Chapter Text
The sky was grey and cloudy as another gust of wind hit Riza. She tried to retreat further into her thin winter coat as she and Roy carried the heavy basket full of the Alchemy supplies her father had sent Roy into town to get between them. But Roy was bad with directions and she knew he’d spend the full day out in the snow, which would cause her father to get agitated and angry. So she decided to tag along and run some errands as well.
They’d finally finished shopping and were heading back. But the day had grown much colder than it started and had snowed even more. Which left the large field they had to walk past to get back to the Hawkeye Manor covered in a thick silky blanket of snow. Which was distracting Roy from walking home.
“I’ve never seen this much snow before.” He said stopping fully, jerking her back ever so slightly as he stared at the field.
“Really?” She thought he’d mention snow in Central when she’d ask about what it was like. “Isn’t their snow in Central?”
“Yeah, there is. But there are so many people and buildings that we don’t have any big fields really. So all the snow is brown and murky.”
He looked at it with such wonder and desire in his eyes she couldn’t look away. He looked at it as if it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Riza couldn’t understand how he did that, everything always seemed so new and exciting to him, like he could find the silver lining in everything. While she just saw a patch of ice that meant it would be freezing tonight no matter how many blankets she could find for her room since the house was colder than an ice box.
“Well, we need to get back.” She said, looking at the manor in the distance. It was at least another mile to get home and she wanted to change into her thickest sweater and wrap herself in her mother's old blanket.
“Can we go in it?” Roy asked with a puppy dog longing look in his eyes.
“No. It’ll get dark soon.” She said firmly as she tugged on the basket toward the house. He stumbled but kept upright.
“But we have at least two hours until sunset,” Roy said, placing his half of the basket down and walking toward the field.
Riza huffed as she placed the basket down and crossed her arms, shoving her hands into her armpits to try and conserve some of the warmth her body had. “Even so, my father needs these-"
She was cut off by a snowball to the face as she heard Roy snicker. She wiped the snow from her eyes and turned a steely gaze onto him. A mischievous smile spread across his face before running off into the field.
She didn’t want to indulge him, she knew the best possible way to punish him was just to keep walking back to the manor and ignore him for the evening. He was always so talkative it would drive him wild if she didn’t sit next to him in the library that night as he tried to study while she read.
But he had never seen a winter with her, he didn’t know the beast he’d just unleashed. So she sharply exhaled and shoved her gloves deep into her pockets before running after him.
Since he was taller he was able to run faster than her, but he didn’t know how good of a shot she was. She quickly scooped up a snowball and threw it at the back of his head.
He stumbled. Turning around to meet her eyes with a snarky comment on his tongue only to be met with another snowball to the face. He quickly shook the snow from his eyes only to see her making more snowballs.
He then ran behind a tree and as Riza tried to follow him he started to throw snowballs at her. She ducked behind a tree and waited. Before darting to another tree, a snowball sailed past her as she ducked behind the next tree. She then continued ducking and running behind trees until a circle had formed so he couldn’t tell where she was.
He turned around the circle she’d surrounded him with. She waited until his back was to her and threw another snowball at him. He jolted forward and spun around but she quickly ran to the next two trees over. Roy tried to move toward her but he got pelted with another snowball.
It continued like that, with Roy unable to get a snowball in. Until she stood behind him and watched as his brows furrowed tightly together and he looked for her. She looked down at the much larger snowball than she’d ever made before. She took a small breath and threw it. It hit Roy and he fell forward. She smiled as she heard him groan and flop over onto his back.
“Alright, I yield.” He groaned, raising his hands slightly in the air.
Riza smiled and came out from her spot, not feeling as cold as before.
“This may be your first winter here but it’s not mine, Mr. Mustang.” She said extending her bare hand out to him. “I’m known for having the sharpest eyes and best aim in town.”
“Sharp eyes?” Roy took her cold hand with his even colder one and sat up, a smirk tugging his lip up. “Like a hawk?”
Riza scowled at him. She dropped her hand and pushed him, sending him back into the snow with a soft oof. He gave her a miserably wounded look through his black bangs and she rolled her eyes. Reaching into her pockets to grab her pink gloves only to be met with nothing. Her face froze.
“What’s wrong?” Roy asked as he sat up again.
“My gloves are gone.” She said as she started to look around the circle of her footprints to see if she saw the bright pink shade of them.
“They are?” His brows furrowed as they scanned the circle.
She nodded and started to retrace her steps with Roy helping her look by digging through the snow where she’d been circling him. Eventually, they’d looked over the entire field, leaving the once untouched field covered in their footprints.
She looked at the field and tried desperately to look for the pink fabric. But there was nothing but white snow.
“Ms. Hawkeye?” He mumbled but Riza didn’t meet his eyes. She just shoved her hands into her armpits again, though it made little difference.
“We need to get back. Come on.” She turned and walked back to the basket full of alchemy supplies. She was so stupid, she should’ve known better than to indulge him. Now she’d have to tell her dad she lost her gloves and not be able to replace them for weeks while she had to knit a new pair. Though they wouldn’t be as good as her last pair, nothing would be better than the pair her mom had made her.
“Uh, okay.” He said as he followed her through the snow field.
She walked back over and grasped the handle of the basket with one hand, the other still shoved in her armpit, waiting for him to pick up the other side. But instead, he just stared at her then took off his right glove and handed it to her.
“What’s that?”
“So your hand doesn’t get cold.” He said, pulling her spare hand toward him and placing it on her. His bare fingers lightly grazed her wrist as he tried to tighten it so it wouldn't fall off her wrist.
“But what about your hand?” She asked, her brows knitting together as he dropped her hand while she studied the glove on her hand. Still unsure how to process it.
“If we hold the basket like this,” he placed his hand over hers on the basket, her eyes darted to the basket where they were now holding hands which caused her to blush though he seemed completely unfazed. “Our hands won’t be cold.”
“But why?” She looked up at him, confused.
No one had ever done this, not the other kids in town she played with before her mom died and her father became a shut-in.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked earnestly with soft eyes and a warm smile.
She just started to walk back to the manor, with Roy's hand in hers. She looked down at his glove on her hand. It was so big that she had to stretch her hand out to keep it on, even with him having tied it. But it felt warm around her hand like she’d been sitting in front of a fire with a blanket over her.
Though his hand on hers felt odd. She’d never held someone’s hand before, besides her mothers and father. Her moms had been so dainty but with callouses along her fingers from working. While her dads were large, cracked, and rough.
But Roy’s were different. They were soft, so soft. Like a field full of tall grass and daisies. They were much softer and nicer than hers. Hers were like her mom’s, dainty and calloused, which she took pride in. That she could still be like her even in death. Roy’s hand was also so warm but not like his glove. It felt like a small hug that spread through her body. It was nice. And even when the wind blew at them, so hard they both stumbled forward, she didn’t feel cold anymore.