#iunctusumbras

     What changed? Edward was starting to realize how much of a time-gap there was between his visits to see Winry. He’d 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 Edward’s name. He certainly didn’t forget the words spat from the artificial man or the battles exchanged between them. As time went on, ‘Pride’ 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 Edward’s 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 “original” as he was once referred to as. How ironic is that?

     “…” The feeling that washed over him was a mix of confusion and guilt. He knew that Pride wasn’t going anywhere as long as Winry had a say over it. The homunculus had proven countless times that he wasn’t there to do his childhood best friend any harm. He just didn’t 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. “Whatever… I’m going.” 

     Visiting Resembool had turned into a cesspool of frustration for Edward, but it was still his and Alphonse’s home so he sucked up most of his issues to see Winry. Unfortunately, that also meant having to deal with Pride, a domesticated homunculus that appeared to act as some kind of pet rather than a problem. The two had a lot of history beyond the fact that Pride was made from his own DNA, like the fact that Winry “loved” him and the fact that despite being a copy, he was made to be taller. Seriously, what a cop out.

     So, when Pride approached him with that after Winry scolded him about getting injured again, he couldn’t help the way his lips twisted into a smug grin, that pulled even further until he was bellowing with laughter. Was he serious?! He was. Pride was always fuckin’ serious and Winry really made him believe that some fat man made his way down their chimney every year and oh my Truth– 

     Edward thought he might really pop his own lung.

     “You’re kidding, right?” He knew Pride wasn’t kidding. “Santa doesn’t actually exist to give anyone anything. He’s just some made-up marketing scheme to get people to spend money on gifts at the end of the year. You really think some fat old man is flying around in a sleigh with magical reindeer giving everyone in the world gifts in one night? Have you ever read a book on physics?”