â does hurting me make you feel good or something? â
   What changed? Edward was starting to realize how much of a time-gap there was between his visits to see Winry. Heâd been at constant odds with Pride every time they saw one another. It was a competition, it was a power-fight, it was hatred and borderline cruelty that seeped from the homunculus at the mere mention of Edwardâs name. He certainly didnât forget the words spat from the artificial man or the battles exchanged between them. As time went on, âPrideâ had gotten awfully⊠soft. Breakable. He reminded Ed of a trained dog, like a golden retriever that no longer held any bite.
   Watching him as he posed the question after one of Edwardâs very typical rude remarks, a scowl and a hint of annoyance brushed onto his lips. He almost preferred the toxic aura between them, because now Edward just felt awkward and out of place most of the time⊠and he was the âoriginalâ as he was once referred to as. How ironic is that?
   ââŠâ The feeling that washed over him was a mix of confusion and guilt. He knew that Pride wasnât going anywhere as long as Winry had a say over it. The homunculus had proven countless times that he wasnât there to do his childhood best friend any harm. He just didnât get it. How could Winry fall in love with something in his image, something entirely helpless that was made under completely malicious circumstances? His eyes closed as he breathed in a deep sigh, waving his automail hand nonchalantly as he turned to leave. âWhatever⊠Iâm going.âÂ
  The door slammed behind him and he shoved his hands into his pockets. He supposed he had a lot of more important things to worry about than whether or not he should wave the white flag to someone that used to try killing him in cold blood.













