FicWad

Roy Mustang stood in the center of the room. Quiet and intent. The warm desert air trailed through his charcoal-black hair. The Young Fuhrer closed his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides, as indistinct cries echoed through his mind. After a moment, Roy reopened his eyes and walked through the inglorious ruin of what was once a safe house.
Remnants of broken furniture and dishes littered the dust-collected floors. Roy often wondered why he returned to this place, time after time. Perhaps it was miss placed curiosity, nostalgia or perhaps it was the weight of the guilt that lingered in his heart. Whatever it was, it would always remain oblivious to Roy.



Roy came to a small room at the end of the tapered hall. He stood in the doorframe and looked at the war-ravished room. It was once a child’s room, a little girl’s haven from the cruelty of the world. Now, it was like any other room in that small desert home, in ruin, looted and stained with the worst of offenses. Roy entered the room.
The Fuhrer looked around; a broken bed occupied the far corner, the once green spread was torn and stained with dried blood. The Dowery drawer on the opposite side of the room lay on its side, the drawers open and old, dingy clothes scattered the floor. Bullet holes adorned the wall, just above the drawer. Finally, a small ash-stained teddy bear slumped against the wall in the corner.
Roy stepped back, tripping over a broken rifle. He twisted around, hitting the wooden floor with a loud thud. He raised his head slightly and looked ahead, towards another room. Roy grimaced. He forced himself to his hands and knees, then to his feet. He brushed the dust off his uniform, before walking down the hall.


Roy stepped into the small bedroom and felt his heart sink all over again. The room was in shambles. He looked at the bed, its sheets bloodied and tangled. Roy stood quiet and rigid. As he stared into the distance, a shrill cry echoed through his mind. Roy cringed. He let out an unsteady breath, before turning and leaving the house.
The Fuhrer mounted the tanned mare just outside the house and headed home. It was the second sunset, and Riza stood on the roof of the house. Watching and waiting for Roy Mustang to return. She dressed in the all too familiar State Military uniform. In the sun’s dying light, Riza squinted and saw the silhouetted figure of Roy riding towards her.
The blonde leapt off the roof and landed gracefully in a crouched position, before standing and walking towards Roy.
Roy Mustang stopped and looked down at Riza, his eyes once again dull. He smelled like the desert.
Riza looked into Roy’s emotionless gaze. She reached for his hand; the sun’s fading light glistened off the gold wedding band on her ring finger.
Roy reached out his hand, the band around his finger shone brightly. He took Riza’s hand and pulled her up into the saddle. Roy then headed home.
Once in the stable, Riza removed the mare’s tack and placed the items in their usual places. After, she reached for the wire brush and started to brush the sand and dust from the mare’s coat and mane.
Roy stood in the shower, his head hung and eyes closed. He allowed the hot water to cascade down his thin form. He could barely hear the radio over the sound of rushing water. After, Roy turned off the water and just stood there, listening to the occasional drip of the water from the showerhead.
The broadcast of War of the worlds filled the air. Roy looked up at the ceiling and sighed, running his hands through wet, scraggly hair. Roy pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the warm shower and onto the pale blue rug. He grabbed a towel and tied it around his waist, before going into his bedroom. He stood there, watching Riza undress.
The blonde unbuttoned her blue coat and slipped out of it. She draped it on the back of the chair in the corner. She then pulled her black under shirt up, over her head, exposing a familiar tattoo on her back.
Roy walked up from behind and set both hands upon Riza’s bony shoulders. He pressed himself against her, craning his neck and began to kiss his wife’s bare shoulder.
Riza leaned back into Roy’s embrace and kissed him on the neck. “I missed you.” She breathed, her eyes closed as she continued to kiss her husband.
Roy breathed deeply, his chaste kisses slowly trailing down her back. “And I missed you…” Roy slowly turned Riza around and laid her down on the bed. As Roy crawled on top of Riza, his hand trailed down her thigh. He smiled, yet his eyes still held a great sadness.
Riza loosely wrapped her arms around Roy’s neck. She looked into his eyes.
Roy bent forward, kissing Riza’s toned belly, he trailed down and unbuttoned her pants. Roy kissed Riza on the lips passionately, as he slowly slipped off her pants, followed by her pink undergarments.
Riza arched back, as Roy spread her legs and slowly pushed into her. She groaned, kissing Roy’s bare chest.



Roy continued to kiss his wife, as he moved in and out of her. He held Riza’s up-turned hand, sandwiching the tarnished heart locket between his hand and Riza’s. Roy quickened his pace, pushing into her harder and deeper.
Riza groaned and raked her fingers through Roy’s wet hair. She arched back, as he bucked his hips.
Roy rolled onto his back, rolling Riza on top of him. He ran his fingers through her hair.
Riza sat upright and straddled him. She slid into him and found a rhythm that they both enjoyed.
Roy arched back, his hands resting on Riza’s hips. He groaned, as she bucked her hips several times.
Riza pushed in and out of Roy, bucked once and then did a circular motion, causing Roy to groan aloud.
Roy arched back, grabbed Riza by the hips and rolled her onto her backside, his hand massaging her inner thigh. He pushed into her, hard and deep.
Riza arched back, moaning with pleasure.
Roy quickened his pace again, bucking his hips sharply. He held her tightly, as he reached his climax. Roy bucked his hips, thrusting into Riza sharply. He reached his peak and released everything he was into her.
Riza groaned and arched back.
Roy smirked and kissed Riza on the lips. He laid on top of her, stroking her sweat-matted hair. “That was good…” He breathed.
Riza smiled. “Yeah…” She whispered, running her fingers through his hair.
Roy sat upright, careful as not to wake Riza. He looked at the clock, which read 2:00 A.M. He raked a hand through his hair. Roy then looked at the locket in his hand, he dared not open it, for he knew, all to well what was inside. Roy then looked at Riza, who lay twisted, not on her side, nor exactly on her back. The moon’s silver glow illuminated her alabaster white skin.
Roy kissed the locket, before carefully draping on Riza’s neck. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Forgive me…” He breathed in a breath that sounded as if it were his last. He pulled back and left the room, with nothing but a towel around his waist.