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    Summary

    For an articulate man, Roy Mustang suddenly struggled to find the correct words.

    Every variation the Colonel concocted within his head sounded flimsy, harsh, or downright wrong. Unsettled and sick, the silence stretched between them for a handful of heart-clenching beats as suspicious golden eyes narrowed, continuing to sear into Roy’s soul. Realization reared its ugly head and delved a hand right into his chest, poisonous claws digging deep as it whispered odious remarks. He stared at the boy before him, feeling as if he was seeing him for the first time, an entire week’s worth of denial crumbling away.

    This couldn’t be happening, but it was.

    It was happening and he had been willfully blind to it like a pathetic coward. He’d chalked the flush of fever as something as simple as a cold. The same applied to the presumption of mood swings linked to age. Even the odd habits Roy had brushed off as quirks or stress...

    Never once did Roy think something more malicious had been at play, until now.

    "Edward… I don’t think you are very well right now.’’

     

    [Or, the one where Edward takes a little splash and everyone suffers]

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    50,915
    Chapters:
    4/?
    Comments:
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