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Winry rushed out the door, but stopped in her tracks when she realized she forgot her purse. She ducked back in the house to grab it, then took off down the path, quickly gathering all her hair into a ponytail as she ran.
She was horribly late, today of all days. Edward was finally coming home, and she was supposed to be meeting up with him at the train station right about now.
Edward was not done with his studies by any means, but Winry complained until he agreed to come home for a short visit.
Her cheeks flushed as she recalled their last-minute confession before he left a year ago. Had it been a year? It felt like a decade. Every day she had thought of him fondly, and his absence had tugged at her heart.
He’d sent her many letters, always written in tiny script so he could tell her as much as possible. They were always complete disasters, disorganized and covered in ink splotches. This was in stark contrast to Alphonse’s letters, which always arrived on high-end paper monogrammed with the Chang clan’s seal, penned in his finest cursive—a hobby he’d picked up to help retrain his fine motor skills.
Usually Edward’s were several sheets of paper per envelope, and each one contained everything from rambling about his travels to horrible drawings depicting his adventures. Her personal favorite letter was one where the entire contents consisted of how sad he was that she wasn’t with him. It was quite pathetic of him, but it did make her blush.
Sometimes he managed to sneak a trinket in the envelope as well. She had two gifts from him so far: a gold hair clip and a purple glass charm. She wore one or both of them every day, along with her usual earrings. Now that she thought of it, a surprising amount of her jewelry had come from Edward and Alphonse.
The reason she was late today was slightly humiliating. First she’d been held back by accidentally knocking over one of her projects, which meant she had to clean up Automail parts all morning. After that, she managed to shower without disaster, but it was when she got out that the problem arose.
What was she supposed to wear?
If her look was too casual, it would imply she didn’t care, but if it was too dressy it would make her seem like she was trying too hard. What was the balance? How much makeup should she do? These questions and more had paralyzed her. She wanted to look perfect for her reunion with Edward, but was it even possible?
Most of her clothes were still packed away, as she’d only just gotten home from Rush Valley about a week ago and had been too busy doing chores with Pinako to get settled back in.
She sat in her room wrapped in a bathrobe, staring at her sparsely populated dresser with contempt while she powdered her face. She’d been hoping to match her makeup to her outfit, but that ship had sailed.
Right as she was finishing up, Pinako had come in to check on her.
“Hi, Granny!” Winry said, smiling.
“Winry, don’t you have to leave soon?” Pinako questioned, looking her up and down skeptically. “You aren’t even dressed.”
“I couldn’t find anything to wear,” Winry admitted with a sigh.
Pinako smirked, her eyes glimmering as she took a puff of her pipe. “You want to impress Ed?”
Winry blushed and looked away, unable to respond.
“Aha! I have just the thing, then. Come with me.” Pinako turned around and shuffled back to her own room. Her joints had been deteriorating recently, so she used a walker now. She liked to crush Winry’s toes with it whenever she talked back.
In Pinako’s room, the old lady sat down on her chair and pointed to her wardrobe. “Check the very back of that, hanging in a bag.”
Winry nodded, although confused. She opened the wardrobe and found the bag in question. It was the kind stores put special clothes in to store them. Winry’s eyes widened. “A dress?”
Pinako nodded. “Exactly. This dress belonged to your mother. You’re her spitting image. it’ll fit you, I’m certain.”
Winry opened the bag, almost forgetting to breathe. Inside was a blue sundress, made of a soft cotton. It had a floral print all over, with a flared skirt, thin straps, and adjustable laces in the back.
It was perfect.
She swallowed. “Are you sure, Granny?”
“I’m sure. Your mother wore this on her first date with my son. She gave it to me on their wedding day and told me to keep it for her future daughter.”
Was Pinako implying that this was Winry’s first date with Edward? Now that she thought about it, it probably would be.
She smiled sheepishly as she remembered the day Ed left. She’d come home giddy with excitement and weak in the knees, and when Pinako asked what happened, all the words had just tumbled out. Winry had expected her grandmother to say something snarky about it being Edward, but Pinako only smiled and listened.
Since then, Pinako seemed very happy for Winry. Once, the girl had even caught her looking at a catalogue of wedding dresses.
In fact, everyone she told was happy and quite convinced they’d end up married. She’d called Riza as well, giving a recounting of events that was only slightly more coherent than the one Pinako got. Riza had congratulated her enthusiastically and promised to bring Roy to the impending wedding, which made Winry feel quite lightheaded. She hadn’t even mentioned a proposal…
Next on the list was Paninya, who very clearly wasn’t listening but was happy nonetheless. She asked if Ed had kissed Winry, which Winry had to say no to, suddenly very disappointed. In the same breath, Paninya said Edward was “lame” for that and then asked when they were getting married.
She called Gracia as well, once she knew Elicia was home from school. They’d both been very excited for her, and Elicia immediately offered to be the flower girl. Winry said she wouldn’t have it any other way. She only wished Maes was around. He’d probably slap her back and proudly declare he was right to suspect Ed liked her.
Winry’s throat ached with the threat of tears. She pushed them back. She wouldn’t cry—that was for later when she saw Edward, and they’d be tears of joy again. “…alright.”
Pinako smiled. She got up and helped Winry get dressed, artfully ignoring the girl wringing her hands.
When she was done, Winry turned to look at herself in the mirror. The dress was wonderfully flattering on her, bringing out her eyes and accentuating her figure. She hoped she looked somewhere near as beautiful as her mom must have.
“Gorgeous,” Pinako said, catching Winry’s eye in the mirror with a reassuring nod. “You look just like her. Now, go and finish up. At this rate you’ll be late to go see lover boy.”
Winry grabbed Pinako’s gnarled hands, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you!” She let go and hurried back to her room to pick out a pair of shoes. Catching herself in the mirror again, she decided to add a dash more rouge to her makeup. She did, then noticed she needed to touch up her mascara.
After a few minutes of messing with her makeup, she stood again, satisfied. She glanced at her closet. Should she wear a jacket? It was early September, so it was still warm outside as the last rays of summer faded away. It could get cold later, though, so maybe she should bring a cardigan.
But then again, if she got cold, Edward might give her his coat…
The thought made her blush.
Abruptly, Pinako flung the door open. “You’re late, Winry!”
“What?” She exclaimed. She looked at the clock on her bedside, then realized it must be slow. Maybe she punched it one too many times. That made her wonder if there was a way to reinforce her clock to be punch-resistant. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I thought you already left,” Pinako said, snapping Winry out of her reverie, then she moved aside and pointed to the door. “It doesn’t matter. Just go!”
Now having reached the train station, Winry realized she was a full 20 minutes behind—far too late for him to get off the train and see her there in a shimmering vision of beauty. She’d been looking forward to that moment. She frowned, slowing to a trot as she approached the platform.
It looked deserted. No one was here, and of course the train was gone. The trees swayed in the wind with a slight breeze, strangely quiet for this time of day. Had Edward wandered off somewhere? She wouldn’t put it past him, the idiot.
Had his appearance changed in some way, causing her not to recognize him? That would be terrible. She couldn’t remember seeing any blonds at all on her way here.
Had he shaved all his hair off? Just thinking about it made her nauseous, but she hadn’t seen anyone who was bald either.
Suddenly there were rapid footsteps and a loud clatter as something heavy hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, nearly crushing her with the force of the embrace. “Winry!” Edward said, nuzzling into her neck. “I thought you abandoned me!”
“I would never!” She said, outraged. She was glad he was behind her, because he didn’t need to see how big her smile was. It would go straight to his head. “I was just late, cut me some slack.”
Edward leaned some of his weight on her. “You’re never late…what happened?” He complained. She could feel his breath tickling her neck, and the silky golden strands of his bangs brushed against her ear.
“I had work to do,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Gearhead,” he hissed into her shoulder. He reluctantly uncoiled his arms from her waist, pulling away and putting his hands in his pockets.
Winry whirled around to face him, her usual retort ready on her lips, but caught herself. He wasn’t an alchemist anymore…she needed to come up with a new name to call him. Judging by the smug look on his face, he’d anticipated this.
Technically speaking, he was still an alchemy nerd, but it just didn’t have the same bite.
She scowled, frantically trying to think of a new insult in the split-second she had before it would be too late to have any effect. As she looked at his face, though, all the thoughts evacuated from her head.
His eyes were glittering honey, framed by lashes of the same color. His hair was messy as usual, and to her relief his cowlick had still not gone away; it stood proudly atop his head. As the wind caught his ponytail, she noticed how much his hair had grown. It was probably to the small of his back now. She wanted to braid it, or at least touch it.
Ed opened his mouth to say something, but paused. The smirk dropped from his face and he looked her up and down. “…You look…nice.” He mumbled, then quickly looked away while pushing his lower lip out.
Did they just have the same realization?
She was surprised he’d noticed her dress, even though she’d been hoping for him to. “What was that?” She said with a grin, cupping a hand to her ear. “I didn’t hear you.”
He rolled his eyes and squared his shoulders. “I said, you look nice today. Your dress is pretty.”
“Thank you,” she said, twisting a bit in place to make the skirt flare out. “It’s my mom’s. And…you look nice as well.”
“I do? I didn’t really dress up…” he looked down at his clothes. A half-unbuttoned white shirt he’d haphazardly tucked into his black dress pants. Black boots whose leather was scuffed all over, and a long trench coat in dark gray.
His taste for belts as a young teen had apparently relapsed—the one he wore was black leather with an impressively carved buckle and silver studs all over.
She wanted to laugh, but kept quiet. She loved his questionable taste in fashion.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Winry said quietly, turning to leave. Then, at her normal volume: “Let’s go home.”
Edward picked up his suitcases, which he’d previously tossed aside to hug her, and caught up to her at a trot. She cursed his long legs. She used to be able to outpace him.
His face was pinched in thought. He suddenly stiffened, having realized something. “Wait, did you mean I look good? Are you saying I’m handsome?” His tone was almost shocked.
She pursed her lips, about to say something mean, but decided against it. “Yeah,” she said quietly, lacing her hands together.
He stared at her. He sputtered, then took a breath. “So are you.” He noticed her fighting to hold back a laugh. “Shit! I mean…beautiful.”
She looked away, failing to smother a snort.
He dropped his suitcases again and cupped her face in his hands, bending slightly to be at eye level. “Winry, you’re beautiful,” he reiterated, his voice serious. His golden eyes pierced right through her.
Just like that, he let go of her and straightened up, continuing down the path.
She felt distinctly off-balance, but still stumbled after him.
—————————————————
Winry trotted up to the front door of her house, pulling it open. “Granny, we’re home!” Meanwhile, Den made a beeline for Edward and enthusiastically sniffed his legs.
There was no response from Pinako and no sounds of her walker, but a note was on the dining table. Winry went and picked it up.
Outside, she heard Edward remark about the new addition to the porch—an awning so they could sit outside no matter the weather.
Pinako’s note read:
Out to buy groceries. See you later.
Winry smiled. The the old lady probably wanted to make a big dinner for Ed just like she always used to.
Pinako had started heading to town in a wagon with one of the neighbors at around the same time weekly—Winry had forgotten it was market day during all the chaos.
Winry grabbed Edward’s deceptively heavy bags and lugged them inside while he was distracted giving Den belly rubs. What could he possibly have in these? Weren’t alchemy notes just pieces of paper? Although, she’d seen some of the tomes he liked to lug around…they were bigger than her head and bound in hard leather.
Seeing Edward out front like that, her memories returned to a day several years ago—after the Promised Day. She’d approached the door, nearly sick to her stomach with anticipation, because surely it couldn’t be the Elrics she’d heard. She pushed the door open with shaking hands, and it was like her body moved itself. She blinked and she’d thrown herself at them, her head spinning with shock and relief and joy.
She talked to them for hours and hours, never letting go of their hands, and they told her everything that happened and more. She’d cried more tears than she thought her body could hold in water, and laughed so much her chest hurt.
That day, she’d been the happiest girl alive.
And today, she was somewhere near that, as Edward had returned to her once more.
Winry ducked into the house, heading to the kitchen to get some food. Edward was probably hungry by now.
She’d thought after Alphonse’s body was retrieved and no longer had to rely on Ed for nutrients, the older boy’s appetite might die down. It had been almost the opposite, with it even increasing as he had rapid growth spurts. His appetite could almost rival Ling.
She spotted the fresh bread she made yesterday. It was a fluffy white loaf, possibly her best batch so far. She grabbed it out of the breadbox, unwrapping the cloth around it, and sliced a few pieces. She grabbed butter and arranged it all nicely on a little tray.
Winry returned outside. She sat down on the brand-new porch swing painted a forest green, placing the prepared tray onto the small table next to her seat. “Ed! Come sit with me!”
He looked up from petting Den, smiling broadly. “Sure.” Edward plopped down next to her and stretched his arm out behind her. He was probably trying to be macho, but it did work on her—she was giddy today.
“I made bread, do you want some?” Winry said, indicating the neat slices in question. She was proud of herself for cutting them so straight. Usually her work with the bread knife left a bit to be desired.
His eyes lit up and he nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m starved.”
Edward tore into the bread as Winry enjoyed her own piece at a more leisurely pace. She was brought back to their youth, days spent together out in the fields playing in the sunlight. They would come home for lunch at midday and Pinako would have food ready, usually with a side of bread from this exact recipe, and Edward would practically inhale it just like he was doing right now.
She remembered a pair of boys made of grass stains and scuffed knees, her partners in crime. The three were inseparable, and sometimes she wished it was still that way. She never wanted to have to say goodbye to either of them, especially not Edward, especially not now.
“Is Granny home?” Edward spoke through a big bite of generously buttered bread. The taste must have reminded him of her.
“No, and if she was she’d whack you for talking with your mouth full,” Winry teased, lightly batting at his arm for illustrative purposes.
He put his hands up, laughing. “Sorry!”
She was on his right side, so the arm she’d hit was the one that used to be Automail. Or, more accurately, it was temporarily replaced by Automail. It had been years since he got his arm back, but she still sometimes forgot.
Whenever she thought about his right arm she thought about the story that accompanied its recovery. Whenever it was told by Edward it would make him briefly angry again at Alphonse for sacrificing himself, and he’d say something along the lines of “don’t do it again!”
Every day she was grateful that the Elrics’ story had a happy ending.
Edward raised his eyebrows. “You alright?”
She snapped out of her head, realizing she was staring. “Yeah, I was just thinking.”
“Impressive,” he said through a laugh, and she smacked him again. He tilted his head. “What were you thinking about?”
“How lucky I am,” she said cryptically, scooting closer and grabbing his hand. Edward immediately stiffened and looked away, a stark blush showing on his cheeks.
Winry noticed the tension in his scarred shoulder, his body taut as he considered something.
Edward pressed his lips together. “Win…you still like me, right?”
Winry almost whacked him, but thought better of it. “Yes, Edward, in fact I love you,” she said very deliberately, although saying those words sent a spike of nerves up her back.
“But I’m gonna have to leave again soon,” he said, closing his eyes. “My research isn’t done. I don’t want to leave you alone like Hohenheim left Mom.”
“You won’t be,” she said with a touch of sharpness in her voice. “It’s not the same. You’re not Hohenheim, and I’m not Trisha.”
Edward finally looked back at her, watching her face for any signs of a lie. He seemed upset, like this had been bothering him. “Promise?” His brows furrowed.
She nodded, smiling. “I promise.” As soon as she said it he relaxed a little.
“Winny…” he mumbled, a nickname he hadn’t called her since they were tiny. “I love you…” Ed took her hands in both of his and pressed them firmly to his lips.
Winry’s heart leapt. She’d never doubted him, but hearing the words from his mouth instead of scribbled all over the bottom of a letter made her all the more certain that he was the one. She never understood what others meant by that expression until just now.
It was like everything fell into place.
Edward suddenly laughed, letting their clasped hands fall into his lap. “There’s another thing…one time when I was really missing you, I got full of myself and kept telling people I had a girlfriend at home. They always congratulated me, but…I never formally asked you.” He looked down, his bangs falling over his face, and ran his thumb over all the callouses on her hand.
“Are you asking me now?” She said, tilting her head. He gave an imperceptible nod. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
Winry laughed as he quickly hugged her. “You’re acting like we haven’t been sending each other love letters for a year.” She thought of one where she left him a lipstick mark at the end. At that time she’d been reading too many romance books to help cope with her loneliness.
She wasn’t opposed to leaving lipstick marks all over his face, but she didn’t wear anything more than a clear gloss today. Later, then.
“Well, yeah, but now it’s official…we can tell people!” He pulled away and she saw he was grinning ear to ear, his eyes shining like the first sunbeams of spring. She couldn’t look away.
Winry’s cheeks heated. “You want to show me off?” She teased.
“Of course I do, you’re my girlfriend!” Edward’s legs fidgeted, full of energy. He suddenly stood, pulling Winry up with him and spinning her like a dancer. She was surprised he still remembered any moves.
When they were young, she used to teach him to dance with her. It helped limber up his Automail after his regular stretches were done, and especially when he was stiff from sparring. That tradition resulted in many evenings of dancing with their hearts racing for seemingly no reason, acutely aware of the other’s proximity.
Sometimes Winry wondered how she went so long without realizing her feelings.
She giggled as he spun her out again, making her skirt flare into a bell. “What’re you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, beaming as she looped her arms around his waist. She couldn’t stop touching him now that he was back, like he’d fade away if she let go. All her time with him felt fleeting—she didn’t want to waste a single second.
Winry looked up at him, moving her hand to cup the back of his neck. She stood on her toes to reach and press her lips to his. The kiss started out light, but Edward leaned into her and she found herself burying her hands in his hair.
She had wanted this for years, longed after a boy who constantly threw himself into the jaws of death. He would come home to her, battered and bloody but home nonetheless, and she’d fix him up just so he could do it all again. Sometimes they would barely speak, sometimes they laughed, and sometimes every touch was electric. Edward was a constant in her life, as were her feelings for him.
Edward’s prosthetic leg buckled and he stumbled back. He braced himself against the wall. Caught off guard, Winry stumbled with him, and they stared at each other for a moment.
“I guess I should look at that later, huh?” Winry said breathlessly.
“Yeah,” he said, and laughed. His hair was completely ruined thanks to her.
Winry didn’t even want to know what she looked like. Absently, she thought she should probably get freshened up before Pinako returned. If the old lady caught her looking like this, she’d tease Winry with it until the day she died.
“Can I show you off?” Winry said with a smile, leaning back off him but trailing her fingers down his wrist. “You’re my boyfriend, after all.”
Edward blushed. “To who?” He took down his hair and smoothed it, putting it back into a cleaner ponytail.
She looked down. “My parents. They’ll be so proud of me.” She felt tears prickling her eyes. They would be proud of her. She wished she could talk to them and tell them all about everything Edward had done for her, and everything she’d done for him, and how excited she was for their future together.
She still could, of course, but it was more that she wanted a response. She wanted her mom to cry or giggle or blush, and she wanted her dad to crack some kind of joke or give his blessing. Their absence always ached more whenever Winry came to an important time in her life, like her first—and last, she hoped—boyfriend.
She wondered if they’d also ask about a wedding.
Her conversation with her parents would be rather one-sided, but it was always that way. Winry and Ed both had perfected the art of talking to a headstone. More than once she had gone to see her family and noticed him doing the same at his mother’s grave. She was always curious what they talked about.
He nodded, a soft smile showing at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll tell my mom, too.”
Winry wrapped up the bread she’d sliced, bringing it for a snack at the cemetery. Her parents wouldn’t want her to be hungry. She grabbed Ed’s hand, and they walked together down the sunlit path, the dirt crunching under their feet.
He looked at her with such fondness, and she felt the same way. Their hands fit together like they were meant to be. The roughness of his palm, his smile, their bond, and their love, all meant to be.
Birdsong filled her ears, the sun warmed her face, and the wind combed through her hair just like her mother used to.
Winry realized she had a new thing to call all her friends about.