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You'd always felt a sense of melancholy kinship with the early afternoon. Everything still seemed so bright and warm, though the day had already peaked. The sun was on its journey West. The day was in the process of ending even if it could, theoretically, still be filled with so much more.
Perhaps, you thought as you looked out your apartment window at the bustling city below, the same was true of your life. You could feel it slipping through your fingers like rays of sunlight through the curtains.
Edward was there. You weren't sure where exactly, but he was somewhere doing something. Just knowing he existed in your space was grounding. His presence brought with it the smell of spiced cologne and machine oil that reminded you that you were, for better or worse, still alive.
You heard the bedroom door open and close, followed by his footsteps coming down the short, narrow hallway. Step, clink, step, step, clink, step. Steady and familiar.
It wasn't until you felt his gaze on you that you noticed you'd been absent-mindedly running your thumb over the old scars on your arm: remnants of the last time you'd tried to leave this life and all its pain behind.
He'd been furious when he'd found out. He wasn't in town when it happened. He'd been in Resembool getting his leg adjusted and you were already out of the hospital by the time he got back. You hadn't needed to tell him, the bandages on your wrists and the dark circles under your eyes said all that needed to be said. He knew you'd tried to leave him, to be gone from his life far too soon like so many others.
Now he worried every time he left. Made you promise to wait for him, that you wouldn't make him add your name to the ever-growing list of gravestones to leave flowers on. But if you could do it, do it right this time and break that promise, he wouldn't have to worry anymore. He could be done. Move on. But every time you told him that, he'd just call you an idiot before burying his face in your neck and not letting go of you for the rest of the night.
Right now, you felt like a germ under a microscope the way his intense golden eyes scrutinized and studied you. He was searching your soul, trying to and eventually succeeding at figuring out what was on your mind.
Usually, you could predict Edward like the tides. You knew what made him tick, what made him sad and angry and happy. You knew what made him laugh, what turned him on, and what triggered a two-hour lecture on why suicide was stupid.
You were expecting such a lecture. But rather than do that, he sighed and slumped his shoulders.
"I'm hungry," he said as though he was making some sort of life-altering confession. You hadn't eaten today, and he knew it. He knew you knew he knew it and so on and so forth. "I'm gonna go down the street to that café you like and get us some sandwiches."
When he put his hand on your shoulder, you looked up at him with tired eyes and a blank face.
"You'll be right here when I come back."
It wasn’t a question. It was a declaration. A promise. A promise that you didn't make but were bound by just the same.
You didn't even process whatever steps he took to get ready to leave or whatever else he might have said as he did so, because the next thing you knew, the door was closing with Edward on the other side.
Time passed as time tends to do. You didn't move. You were vaguely aware that you were thirsty but you didn't dare move a muscle. Edward had made a promise to you both on your behalf and you wouldn't make a liar out if him.
Not today, anyway.
You hoped he'd get lemonade to go with the sandwiches.
Sure enough, he did. However long after he left, he returned with a large brown paper bag and two tall paper cups. Neither of you said anything while he laid out the food on the coffee table in front of the couch.
You ate and drank in silence, sitting close enough for your knees to touch. The touch wasn't so much that you felt crowded, but it was just enough anchor you to his physical presence. It's what you needed, and he knew it. So was the food and the lemonade and the small smile he looked at you with when you finished the last bite.
You didn't deserve a man like Edward Elric.
But you had him, and he was here. He actively chose to be here, time and time again, no matter how many outbursts or shutdowns you had when you tried to push him away. He chose you.
That had to count for something, right?
So yes, the day was in the process of ending. But that didn't mean it couldn't still be filled with so, so much more before it was time for the sun to set.