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Riza Hawkeye’s clamped hazel eyes began to undo themselves as the shining morning sun assaulted the bedroom and her face; the woman’s bare, pale shoulders glistened as the light spread across the soft mattress. The coffee, hazel tint in the eyes of the lieutenant emerged from its lids and pranced alertly around the unfamiliar surroundings; the body beside her squirmed comfortably as the hand attached to it fell lazily over the woman’s defined chest. The male body was completely at ease, while the female’s body felt a juxtaposition of displacement and belonging. The room was enveloped in emptiness, with its cream walls barren and window lacking curtains; adornments were absent in the remaining rooms, and the simple closet contained military uniforms and a few casual pieces mixed with some formal attire. The chilly winter air outside crept through the house overnight and chilled the brown hardwood floor. Though the woman didn’t see much of the kitchen last night, she recalled a slick, black marble countertop and a quaint dining room table that appeared unused for some time. It didn’t feel like a home; rather, it seemed to simply be a place to eat and sleep for the owner. That thought pained her greatly, for she knew in her heart a leader like the man next to her deserved more than that. Roy Mustang’s eyes were hidden deep beneath his pale eyelids, with scruffy wisps of jet black hair messily dancing over his forehead; the breaths he took were deep and calming with his chest visibly moving as a smile spread across his drowsy face. Suddenly, puddles of deep sorrow flooded the woman’s eyes and heart; it was suffocating her from the inside out. The once calm hazel eyes now flickered wildly, realizing the consequences of last night’s actions.
She had spent the night with her superior, Roy Mustang; she remembered every detail of every word, every action that they intimately shared. It was an evening she was certain would be cherished, but also haunt her, for the rest of her years. The golden, tangled hair flowing across the pillows was trapped beneath the raven hair of Roy’s; this felt so natural, but it left an uneasy feeling that was firmly lodged in the pit of Riza’s chest. As little rays of sun spread on Roy Mustang’s face, it caused him to become alert, wincing at the harsh morning light. The sun all but swallowed the room now, its sunny hues hugging the bare walls. Darkness loomed over the room dangerously as she felt words climbing up her throat, scratching and stinging as they attempted to ascend.
“Good morning,” a deep voice greeted her, catching her off guard. “About last night,” she rasped; the dark tint of her eyes began shaking from her racing thoughts. The aching body beside her lifted itself with ease to rest against the dark wood headboard; she followed suit but chose to rise slower and maintain some distance between each other. His mind began to predict what she was about to say, “I know, Hawkeye. And I agree. This shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake. But damn, it sure was wonderful, I must say…” he trailed off, even though his voice remained calm. His eyes hadn’t met hers, but that made the blow dealt to Riza worse than she could ever imagine.
The lieutenant gripped her chest to gain some internal steadiness, for her body would have otherwise crumbled; her liberated hair swung to cover her breaking face. She didn't need to absorb his words; they had already seeped deep inside her as he spoke. It was too difficult to hide her emotions from Roy, even when others couldn’t read her expressionless face. He could see her firm hands writhe her lavender cotton shirt and noticed fresh water droplets across its neckline. The woman’s words had finally reached her lips, but nothing came out. She began to stammer, “I…I…” Words were failing her, so all she could manage was to slip out of the bed silently. Her bare feet met the icy wood beneath her and firmly planted themselves on the ground, trying to figure out what action to execute next. Remembering her military position, she felt backed into a corner with her words and actions. She was trapped between emotions and professionalism, with the latter being the road she always took. Her heart heaved a heavy sigh as it childishly nudged her on how to respond, doing its best to encourage her. “I…sir…I…have no words,” her reply, though underlying sorrow, came out emotionless. This was one moment Roy Mustang had to desperately scramble to unearth the emotions hidden deep in his subordinate’s eyes. “I see,” he said aloud. “Well, I guess it is back to business as usual, especially with the fraternization rules and all. You understand Hawkeye. I know I just got promoted to Colonel, but even now I’m still a dog of the military,” he lamented.
This was something she could only imagine in a nightmare; the man she loved so dearly had taken her in for the evening, treating her like a queen, and confessing his love for her. Now she stood before him, with the man repenting for last night’s actions; it was like night and day. How Riza longed to take back that evening or rewind life backwards to change things. However, Riza was well aware that was impossible and had to bravely face the harsh reality crashing down in front of her. Her body attenuated as it stammered back drunkenly; anger and betrayal engulfed her. “I’ll gather my things,” she impulsively announced and rushed to pick up her blouse and skirt in the corner thrown off from yesterday. “See you tomorrow morning Sir,” she scoffed with her back facing him; she was doing all she physically could to choke back the salty tears so eager to spill down her face. Before Roy could articulate his scampering thoughts to the only love of his life- the one he loved so dearly- she briskly gripped her clothes in her left hand and made her way across the house, the solid wood door clicking shut behind her.