the night was quiet enough that not so long ago, it would have caused him to tense up & be wary of dangersâbut he was beginning to learn, to ingrain within himself, that that part of his life was over. under the night sky, where it was dark enough for them to see the stars overhead ( centralâs always been too big, too loud, & the streetlights alone were enough to block out the view ), the gentle breeze & the sound of crickets were the only things that accompanied them.
  sheâd wanted to climb to the roof in order to stargaze, and itâd only taken a little persuasion for him to agree ( there were stars in her eyes, too, & heâd much prefer to look at those ). they were sitting together, & sheâd been close enough to touch the entire time; but they barely did, hands loosely held in the space between them. he didnât mind, thoughâhe was content enough with just her presence, here, & the sound of her voice. automail, it was something she loved to bits & yet another thing he adored about her; even if he didnât understand all of the complicated jargon, he enjoyed listening to her talk about something she was passionate about ( & besides, she did the exact same for him when he spouted off about alchemy ). as the topic shifted, though, so did the tone of the conversation, leading to his honest words. confession made, and, after a few brief moments of silence that seemed like forever, & she was leaning closer to him, head resting on his shoulder in a way that made his heart skip. ed squeezed her hand in response.
  âso am i.â funny, how heâd have been too embarrassed to say the words before, but now they come as easily as breathing. he turned his head slightly so he could press a kiss to her hair. âi love you too, ya big sap.â he said as the wind, this time a little chillier, whistled past them. âhey, you cold?â
THEYâVE GROWN, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD. winry feels this in the relaxed, comfortable auras they exude now, in each otherâs presence and literally in the way that she has to prop herself up on the heel of her hand and crane her neck up to return a kiss of her own â it lands just a few inches above the slope of his jaw, and she smiles into it too.Â
â speak for yourself, âcause youâre the sap. â she says, tone teasing but without any real bite. thereâs something reverently special about being in love with your best friend â conversations can jump from tooth-aching sweetness to poking fun at each other, and it stays easy and natural all the while. winry lets his i love you too sit and bloom into a little explosion of warmth in her chest, then promptly files it away into the slowly but surely growing pile of outward, explicit words of affection from him that she keeps somewhere in the forefront of her heart. sheâll never get tired of hearing it, the words i love you ( and neither will she get tired of saying it ) â winry thinks she could be eighty five and have lived her whole life to its fullest ( she just knows theyâll get there, to that point in their lives that being ancient and happy and complete becomes the new normal ) and even then, she wouldnât tire of hearing it, especially coming from ed.Â
the wind is blowing more unfriendly now, as the night draws on â still, a part of her wants to stay on the roof, despite the chill in the air. itâs the kind of peace sheâd been praying for, for so long, and winry stubbornly wished to savour it. â uh, kind of. but i donât really mind it, â she says, and means it, even if the goosebumps on her arms betray her. â are you cold ? â
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