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For the first time since Ishval, his heart moved him to action and it was like jumping into a rabbit's hole. A set of fireworks flared off in the distance and as the lights from it shone in his eyes, Roy Mustang had realized he was in love.
Part Two
Romance/Drama
In the following weeks, the young Colonel from East City tried with all his might to shift the attention of his lovely Lieutenant to him. Fraternization regulations be damned.
Within work hours, he’d make excuses for her to give him more attention than necessary: “bring these unnecessary reports”, “help file these expenses ahead of time”, or “assist me in filing this stack nearby”. She didn’t swoon over his smirks, giggle at his jokes, or didn’t react in any way that indicated she admired him in that way. Her resilience irked him, but what bothered him more was how long it took him to realize she wasn’t like the other women from the Eastern Command Center.
Mustang utilized his infamy as a womanizer to throw others off – his charm ensnaring even the most prudent of females. He earned the title of womanizer, though. The women he took out in the evenings hardly ever made it past a second date. In the past, a girlfriend or two did, all before Ishval, and one of them might have had the potential of being serious. He never understood why he was so non-committal. Until now.
The reason was right in front of him all these years, sitting there, dutifully sorting through paperwork.
First, he began noticing her quirks, like when the sunset hit her face, the way her cheek would twitch from an immaterial slip-up, or when she’d ruffle her sharp bangs when her warm eyes became tired. Infuriating upon initial observation, though his recall of them evoked feelings of endearment.
Roy was at odds with himself. While her diligence was commendable, it annoyed him that she was so focused on her work and dedication to duty. He became determined to find something, a fact or a clue, that proved Hawkeye could color outside the lines. He yearned to know everything else about her. She was his oldest friend, but everything about her now seemed so new.
He was alone, but the thought of her consistently kept his mind company.
--
On the sidewalk of Verbena St where florists hawked their wares from overladen carts an understated, but beautiful white-petal flower with a golden pistil caught his eye.
“Hellebores,” the old lady informed him. She sported a suspiciously familiar ahoge. “Buy six, get the gratitude of a tired old woman free. Would you like some, lad?”
On impulse, Roy bought some with no consideration is how suspicious it would look to arrive at East Area HQ with a half-dozen bouquet of the things.
“Livening up the office, Colonel?” Second Lieutenant Breda asked as soon as Roy stepped through the doors.
He froze in his steps, caught red-handed. The Colonel arrived into his personal office with the rest of his unit sitting on his couch for a meeting that slipped his mind. “I – uhhh – a little appreciation goes a long way. To show how much I appreciate the rest of you.” As the situation forced his hand, the flowers were distributed: one for his desk, one of each of his subordinates, and “an extra for the pretty lady.” The genuinely warm smile she gave him stayed with him until the end of that week.
“So, Lieutenant, do you have any plans tonight?” All he could do is beat around the bush until he struck gold. It wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary. It’s the end of the day, the sun is in the horizon, and two days off ahead of them.
Hawkeye’s fingers handled the lock to the office and they began to walk towards the exit, like she was thinking through her answer. “Yes, Rebecca set me up on a date with someone and I figured I’d give the fellow a chance.”
A date!? That familiar sinking feeling almost sent him reeling, but Roy masked any indication of discomfort with a whistle, “Wow, the Lieutenant on a hot date.” He opened the door for her leading to East City. Roy continued as they descended the streetlamp-lit stairs, “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She scoffed lightly, “I… uh-“
Roy paused to look at her curiously. Since when did Hawkeye ever stutter.
“Truth is, she did everything from her end and I’m not entirely sure who it is.”
“Ah, like a blind date.” He assisted.
“I suppose so.” Her brown eyes wandered to him. “And yourself?”
“Oh. Haha! I have a date myself.” He didn’t. “I need to get going to get ready for my own lucky lady.”
“Rightly so, sir.” Hawkeye fidgeted with her workbag. “Have fun.”
“You, too.” Roy managed, turning his back to her. “Take care, Lieutenant.”
In his own dwelling, Roy sulked indiscriminately – on his couch, in the shower, over the small pot of rice-for-one. The thought of some unforeseen rival in the midst made him incredibly jealous. Worst of all, it rendered Roy useless. He had to talk himself out of stalking his usual date spots to ‘accidentally’ bump into her.
The thought of some chump having a nice evening with Riza all because he was too slow to come to his senses. His eyes widened and sat up from his pity shower, ‘What if she’s meeting her future husband?’ Roy shook his head and a reassuring voice came to his rescue, there was no way. If his previous encounters with her were any indicator, Hawkeye is impervious to charm, however capable. And yet, the red-hot feeling of uncertainty and self-doubt failed to subside.
An unfamiliar feeling made impossible any chance of recreation during his days off. The anticipation of seeing her the next day, like a boy with a crush, monopolized his thoughts. He’d normally call her without a second thought, for anything at any time. But now, he was treating her as if she had never been around. As if the Hawkeye’s impression of him needed to be established. But she already knew him. Roy’s charms were useless against his beautifully stoic Lieutenant.
By the beginning of the following week, Roy let go of the flimsy excuses to keep her around for extra work and tried to be subtler, thinking ‘Maybe she’ll come around herself.’
She didn’t.
The Colonel found himself in Mess Hall, searching the sea of blue Amestrian uniforms. Roy spotted her laughing and smiling with Jean and laughing some more. Was she flirting? With HAVOC??
He immediately changed course, the poisonous knife of jealousy twisting in his gut. He left his uneaten tray at a table of hungry rookies.
Roy became so obsessed that day with watching their interactions that he fell behind on his work. For Lieutenant Hawkeye, he knew that the tiniest flash of her eyes meant something. The sensation of his newfound feeling clouded his mind that up until then he hadn’t pieced together the fact that Jean could have been the chump. The chump that evening. And again, this was Jean, but it was incontrollable. Jean didn’t deserve her.
Maybe I don’t either, but I’ll be damned if I let that easy-going son of a bitch fraternize with my Lieutenant.
--
The Colonel leaned over his desk, terse fingers supporting him. He tried to find his words. “Is there something between you and Havoc?”
Lieutenant Hawkeye stood still in front of him and he could see her trying to stow away her usual tells. “Don’t tell me this is what this meeting is about.”
“Just answer the question, Lieutenant.” His voice became harsh.
“I plan to withhold that information, sir.” She declared.
“Why?” The Colonel straightened himself, looking down at her. “You realize that’s as good as admitting it.”
He spotted the faint reddening of her cheeks, but her cold stare didn’t waver. “I apologize, sir. But I have to disagree.”
“Enlighten me, Lieutenant.” The slight twitch of her eyebrows, her cheeks, the emphasized “sir” - Hawkeye was getting furious.
“Unless you have concrete evidence - in other words, not just your hunch, you cannot accuse me or Second Lieutenant Havoc in any manner, shape or form of having more than a platonic relationship.” Her tone frigid, “And quite frankly, I’m offended, sir, that you’d waste my time and yours to ask personal and inappropriate questions.” She turned to leave.
“I did not dismiss you, Lieutenant.” Roy felt himself growl, walking around the wooden desk to follow. But the Lieutenant had just gone to her own work space to collect a stack of papers and intentionally let it drop with impact on to his desk.
“What kind of soldier do you take me for?” She shot at him, resting a hand on top of the stack.
“I used to think a communicative and efficient adjutant.”
Colonel Mustang saw Hawkeye clench her fist atop the stack. “Okay, let me communicate this.” Her hand shifted to point, stepping in closer to glare at him. Through grit teeth, Hawkeye said, “Finish this paperwork. ”
“Answer me, Lieutenant.”
“Allow me to go bring you a pen, Colonel.” She countered.
With his voice carrying to fill the room after her, he ordered her: “You are not allowed to date Second Lieutenant Havoc, do you understand me?”
Hawkeye stopped in her tracks, about-facing, and storming briskly towards him. She challenged his loud, stern voice with hushed fury, “You are the last person allowed to tell me who I can or can’t see on my free time while you shamelessly gallivant around with easy women. From within this command center, may I add.”
“Do I have to document fraternization and insubordination here, Lieutenant?” He looked down at her coldly and just briefly, there was a glint of hurt swirling amidst her angered eyes.
“No, sir. Am I dismissed?”
Mustang took a deep breath to calm himself as the Lieutenant slammed the door behind her.
