#winward

Winry Rockbell was aflame, and completely puzzled. 

Her life had never been particularly average, by any standard. But, she had managed to sand down and smooth out her life, as admittedly tumultuous as it has been, as much as possible. Always moving, constantly working, relentlessly good-natured. She carried her scars proudly but never allowed them to weigh her down. Her life was a vast web of hardship and trauma, though intertwined with tight bonds and fierce strength. She always managed to keep going.

Perhaps that was why it was so peculiar to her when she noticed a definite shift. Her life up to that point had been just so that things - bad things - usually occured in a raging storm, coming and destroying the constants in her life and transforming everything into a variable. She was used to a definitive, clear, breaking point, an event, a day; a war, a death; something to concretely signal that things would not be what they once were.

Thus, when she found herself considering Edward as more than her childhood friend, her feisty customer, her headstrong ally, it understandably took her a moment to process.

She regarded the brothers exiting the train platform in Central City, and as her locomotive chugged away, she couldn’t help but ponder when and how he had become... she didn’t even know how to shape it in her mind. He was never in her perphiary by any sense, but here he was taking center stage, carelessly flicking at embers beginning to burn in her heart. How long, she wondered, had this flame been growing?

She shrugged, slightly annoyed not at her new disposition, but at what to do next. As focal as he may have been, she decided, she could not (nor did she want to) devote all her time and energy to daydreaming and fantasizing. Moreover, as time passed, she came to understand how much of a liability she could be, when dangled as a hostage at Briggs. So she’d carry on, acutely aware of her feelings, but equally as cognizant of her budding priorities in Rush Valley. After all, she’d be no good if she sat at home fretting about his fate all day. Days were spent with brief interludes but him, about Al, about them, but she chose not to dwell. She decided she was alright. A slow burn was just fine. She’d store it in her pocket, letting the embers grow as time progressed. She’d let them strike when, and more importantly if the time was right.

When she encountered an admittedly taller Ed in Resembool just before the Promised Day, she’d been reminded of how deeply she cared for him. She’d lashed out, unapologetically, when confronted with the uncertainty of the day to come, and he’d bitten back, doing little to quell her anxiety. In the end, he rescinded his earlier words, and assured her that they’d be back. She swore on an apple pie that’d happen.

It was certainly hard to keep faith when she collapsed to the kitchen floor, her life force sinking beneath her and her soul being dragged beyond her reach, but when she’d regained consciousness after what had really been an hour but felt like some odd years, she knew they had done something right. The proof came two months later when she greeted her two boys, almost all flesh and wholly alive. She entangled them in her arms and was content to never again let go.

Amidst the genuine craziness of their homecoming, she’d been able to tame her heart well-enough. After all, she’d gotten more than her fair share of practice.

But soon enough, she felt the heat. She felt it when she’d catch Ed’s golden eyes on her. She’d acknowledge him quickly, offering him a quiet smirk before he darted away from her, face flushing. She felt it when, one night spent stargazing, she carefully rested her head into onto Ed’s shoulder as though it were the most normal thing in the world. He, of course, completely froze like a popsicle, but after 10 or so minutes, his posture loosened. She felt it when she casually entangled her hand with his on a walk to the market. Albeit, it was much more enjoyable once his hand stopped sweating profusely.

She especially felt it at Solstice Festival that June, when she’d ardently persuaded him into joined her in a dance. After a moment of sputtering (“W-Win, I can’t - I’ve got two left feet I - Oh, c’mon you know Granny and Al will give me hell...”) he’d tentatively placed one hand on her waist and the other in hers. To the gentle strumming of a guitar, she’d set her head gently against his chest where she’d heard his heart rate going in double time to the beat. As the music swelled and faded into crickets, she’d gingerly given him a kiss on his beet-red cheek.

This was how their summer progressed, small steps until they grew more and more normal, followed by another bound forward. Little, defining moments, like she was used to, encompassing one large shift. She was alright with the slow burn, but, geez for the prodigal, overly-confident, hell, even annoying Fullmetal Alchemist, she wondered when he’d catch on (if ever). 

She got her answer with the arrival of fall. Carved pumpkins and warm cider marked the end of a summer’s harvest, and unmistakable new territory.

The moment the leaves began to fall from nearby trees, Al was unstoppable.

“Brother! Winry!” He exclaimed one particularly fruitful afternoon. “We have to go play outside!” 

Winry smiled from her book; his joy was jubilant. How could she deny him this simple pleasure? “I’m in,” she grinned.

Ed snorted, “Isn’t it a little kiddish? Plus I just raked them all up.”

Winry and Al rolled their eyes, “Perfect for jumping in, then!” They countered. Ed moaned, but couldn’t help but loosen up once Al began frolicking happily among the seasons colors.

The three jumped about, tossing the foliage into the air and kicking piles at each other. It was Winry’s idea to begin a friendly game of tag, but knowing the Elrics, it did not remain light-hearted for long.

Al was “it” and pondering his choices carefully. Ed was panting about 35 yards to his right, Winry 10 yards closer to his left. 

Al made a run for Winry, who immediately yelped and dashed towards Ed with a smirk. The elder brother hadn’t been paying quite enough attention; Winry darted behind Ed. nAl grasped the hem of Ed’s hoodie and breathlessly hollered, “You’re it, Brother!”

Ed fumed, “Damn it, Winry! I’m not your bait!” But the blonde was already spiriting away, blonde ponytail bobbing and unmistakable laughter chiming in the wind. She turned around to flash him a wicked smile that made this tongue go dry.

Without a second thought, Ed ran after her. He chased her around the yard in circles, completely missing his worn-out brother secede for a water break and head back inside. 

For a moment they both stopped, about 20 yards apart. Both breathing heavy, Ed resting his arms on his legs. God, he was out of shape after a summer off. They caught their breath, both staring at each other intently. Ed could feel his heart practically thumping out of his chest, something he attributed to the intense game and less to the ever-intoxicating woman he was grasping at. He flashed her a look she couldn’t quite decipher before lunging after her.

Winry whipped around, laughing and trying to evade him. Winry ran in a zig-zag, trying to ward Ed off, but he had years of combat training on her. She shrieked as he closed the distance between them, closing his hand around her forearm.

In one fluid motion, he spun her around to face him,, stopping their forward motion and pressing her directly onto him. He became acutely aware of many things in one moment. Her sweet breath was sticky on his face, reminding him they were a hair’s length apart. His grip on her remained tight. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise, delight, and... was that anticipation? Her chest moved against his as they both struggled to normalize their respiratory systems, though he reminded, with Winry this close to him, there was little chance of that.

A summer flashed before him, a summer of stolen moments, chaste touches, nights spent together. Of course, she had taken the lead, him attempting to follow behind but continutely he allowed himself to be surprised by her. Their relationship, he remembered, was a long, drawn-out burn, but now more than ever, the distance seemed to be closing. 

She spoke him out of his reverie, “Ed?” Her voice was patient, even beckoning.

Damn it all.

He pressed his lips into hers without a second thought. Pounding heart and swirling thoughts aside, all he could do was melt. She smiled against him, slipping free of his grasp and holding his face between her hands while his hands dropped to her hips, trying desperately to eliminate any remaining space between them. Tentatively, he moved his lips against hers trying to block his heartbeat in his eardrums. She responded positively, teasing him with her tongue and snaking her arms around his neck.

After an eternity that was somehow not long enough, they break, breath as uneven as when they began. Her eyes met his and she laughed at his flushed complexion. “Finally,” she breathed and he grimaced.

“S-sorry, I was just...” he stammered “I w-was. Look, I’ve never-”. She rolled her eyes, briefly kissing him once more and he forgot his momentary embarrassment, lost in the burn that is Winry Rockbell.

She relinquished, untangling herself and opting instead to slip her hand into his as she dragged him towards the house. He blinked a few times, following her blindly before she whipped around to offer him one more dazzling smile. “It’s okay,” she admitted, nuzzling her head into his neck. “I’m alright with a slow burn.”

“We’ve got time,” he concured. She hummed in agreement.

“And you’ve got a lot to learn,” she teased, letting go of him and sprinting toward the porch steps.

Ed frowned, completely miffed. “H-hey, what’s that supposed to mean! Win, come back here!”

“Mhmm! They're all photos from when we were kids!” A small smile formed on his face from the nostalgia, and he walked over to sit beside Alphonse as he perused the contents of the various pages. There was a photo from a day they helped Pinako make an apple pie, and he and Alphonse had gotten in a fight where they threw flour at one another and had made a mess of the house. There was another where Edward had dressed up as a ghost to scare Winry, but instead it just made her laugh hysterically, which made him pretty mad. There was yet another photograph from when they had visited a nearby lake to go swimming.

“Huh? I don't remember this one!” he frowned when ha came across a particular photograph. It featured Winry with a white pillowcase tied around her head, while Edward stood next to her looking extremely irritated. Alphonse was standing on a stump reading from an upside-down book and wearing a top hat. The other residents of the house gathered around him to peer at the photo in question, and Winry lit up with a radiant smile.

“Oh! That's the day we got married!”

“Do what?” Edward shrieked, his voice several octaves higher than normal as he snapped the photograph album shut and whipped around to glare at her in incredulity. Her wide blue eyes gazed at him in confusion.

“Don't you remember, Ed? It went like this…”

-In the Past-

Little Edward was squatted down in the yard with a stick in his hand, his golden eyes wide with curiosity as he poked at a slow-moving beetle crawling across the lush green grass. He pouted when it abruptly fluttered its wings and flew off with a buzz, disturbed by the sound of elated laughter and the feverish stomping of footsteps. He stood up, dropping his stick, as Winry and Alphonse came careening around the corner of the house giggling giddily.

“What's all this about?” he blinked.

“Alphonse and I have a great game we can play!” Winry giggled as she stopped in front of him. He blinked in slight confusion as she turned to his brother, who was holding various items in his little arms. Winry grabbed one of them and whirled around with a flourish. “Ta-daaaaaa~” she sang as she pulled a single white pillowcase around her head, draping it over her blonde hair and holding it there while she looked at him expectantly.

“I don't get it.”

“I’m a bride, you idiot!” she shrieked at him, her face reddening, and he cried out as she socked him in the head with her fist. He nursed his head tenderly, glaring at her with his cheeks puffed out defiantly.

“You're a mean bride! Who would wanna marry you?” he snapped at her, and they dissolved to an ugly squabble, trading various insults until Alphonse laughed nervously and physically inserted himself between them.

“Guys, guys, come on! Let's just play the game!” he smiled widely, and the two children glared at one another before turning their backs on each other with haughty huffs. “Now, Edward, you’re gonna be the groom!”

“Do what?” he shrieked. Winry giggled and spun around with her makeshift veil while Alphonse scampered behind him and clambered onto a nearby stump and plopped a tall top hat onto his head. It was much too big for him, so he had to hold it up with one hand while he balanced the book on his knee. He cleared his throat dramatically before opening up a book with a sophisticated expression, but Edward thought he just looked dumb because the book was upside-down. As he went to complain about the stupidity of the game, his words were whisked out of his mouth as Winry grabbed him by the air with a girlish giggle and dragged him over to the stump. He slouched in front of his brother, who was blathering some nonsense about marriage rights, while Winry was standing straight up with gleaming eyes like she actually was getting married. “This is so dumb,” he hissed to her under his breath.

“Shut up and pretty to be happy!” she hissed back at him, and the glare she shot him scared his spine as stiff as a board. This sucks!

“Do you, Winry Rockbell, take Edward Elric to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Alphonse announced suddenly.

“I do!” Winry beamed brightly.

“Do you, Edward Elric, take Winry Rockbell to be your lawfully wedded wife?” his brother asked solemnly, turning on him next. Winry also turned to face him, her blue eyes sparkling with pure bliss and her cheeks slightly pink as she stared at him hopefully.

“Nah,” he answered without missing a beat, then screamed as Winry snarled and stomped on his foot with all the might her little body possessed. “Yes! Yes! I mean yes, I do! Nehhhhh!” he screeched as he hopped on one foot, cradling the other which undoubtedly contained broken toes. Winry beamed happily and whirled back around to face Alphonse, smacking Edward in the face with her pillowcase veil. Edward, positively fuming, just half-listened while Alphonse continued reciting some half-baked marriage rights before he went as rigid as a wall of stone.

“You may now kiss the bride!” he declared gleefully and snapped the book shut, looking quite pleased with his performance. Winry looked at him, flushing shyly as she nervously wrung the edge of her veil, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him. Edward felt a shudder travel up his spine, and his eyebrows twitched incessantly as he tugged at his collar, which was sticking to his neck due to the cold sweat. How did I get dragged into this? He moped as he edged toward the waiting girl. She had her eyes closed and her lips puckered, looking completely innocent. Edward knew that a devil hid behind that angelic face. I don't wanna kiss Winry!

“Come on, brother, or she'll hit you with a wrench this time!” Alphonse hissed down at him. Edward exhaled deeply, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her violence, before clenching his fists tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he jerked forward, lightly kissing Winry on the mouth; then, in the next second, he had jumped back, as red as a tomato, and was wiping off his mouth with disgusted noises.

“Why do you have to act like that, Ed?” Winry pouted as she put her hands on her hips, that light shade of pink still on her chubby cheeks.

“This is the worst game ever!” he shot back. They all glanced up when they heard amused laughter, just in time to see a camera flash. Pinako lowered the camera, chuckling, while Edward went dark red. “Delete that picture! You old haaaaaag!” he wailed and ran for the camera, but the dog thought it was a game and jumped on him, barking happily as he bowled the young child over.

-In the Present-

Edward's face had taken on a hue that was some mixture of pink and green after Winry had finished relating the story. “No wonder I don't remember. It's so traumatizing that I repressed it,” he muttered. He cried out as Winry grabbed a nearby wrench and whacked him over the head with it. “Ow! God damn it!”

“Told you she would hit you with a wrench!” Alphonse laughed. Edward just whimpered as he bent over, cradling his bruised head. The rest of the room laughed at his expense, and they were so busy doing that that they didn't notice him blushing darkly.

Me and Winry married, huh? Alphonse and I are going to be leaving on our trip soon… Maybe… Maybe I should tell her how I feel?