→ we're bound to linger on
fullmetal alchemist. edward/alfons. pg. 229 words
He kisses me carefully even now, months after we began this little - routine of ours. I could hardly call it a relationship, because sometimes it feels like much less, and sometimes, when it's dark and quiet and we're alone, it feels like so much more.
He still pulls away at first and smiles nervously at me, almost in apology.
"I'm not about to break," I tell him, frowning.
Sometimes I wish I could.
It would be easier to destroy myself. To let everything of my old life, my old self crumble, to build a new perspective from the debris.
It would be easier to let him remake me into something better. Someone he wouldn't be ashamed of.
Someone who didn't remember.
"I don't understand," he says.
"I don't expect you to."
He looks at me, concerned, and it's that fall again, and I'm a lovesick fool only wanting two things, his approval and a way to use it to find my way home. Unfair to him, maybe, but what's that saying? The heart wants what it wants. I wanted him, but I wanted someone else more.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, avoiding his eyes.
He crosses the room, dropping the red coat that had been the cause of our argument over the back of a chair, and puts his hand, warm and oddly comforting, on my shoulder. "There's nothing to apologize for, Edward."
There's everything to apologize for, but he doesn't need to know that.