Leave A Scar

It was evening time when I finally looked up from the textbook I'd been reading, the armchair beneath me surely etched with my weight.

Ed's voice rang clear in my head.

'We should hit the town.'

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

Ed coughed, eyes locked on mine as his gloved fist partially covered his mouth. "Uh, y'know," he said, "just go out. Take a break from everything."

Well, I guess he was right. We were always traveling, and it was rare that we took an actual break that wasn't a nap on a train.

I smiled, nodded. "Sure."

He grinned, hand disappearing into his coat pocket. "Great! I'll give Al a heads up."

"A... heads up?"

Edward nodded, eyes pleasantly curved as he smiled. "Sure. He's busy with all those books, anyway."

"You mean..." It would just be us? The two of us?

Ed suddenly looked away, fingers pushing together as he hunched. "I-I mean, I was thinking dinner, and I know he just watches us eat, so—"

"Oh." My eyes went wider, his implication sneaking in. "OH."

Ed grinned sheepishly, and I caught the sight of a faint blush on his cheeks.

"O-only if you want to," he told me, and the sound of my name just brought a familiar uselessness. A stupidity.

What do I have to lose, except a friendship?

The smile I gave came naturally. Foolishly easy. A mask that was permanently etched into my skin.

"Sure," I said. "Just give me a few to get ready."

"Sure," Ed returned, and left me to my devices. I withdrew a dress from my bag, smoothing out the wrinkles with strong strokes of the palm. As foolish as it was, I slipped on heels—shoes that weren't engraved with alchemic circles and arrays.

Ed's expression... The smile, the hue of his face... It made the sacrifice worthwhile.

We walked around for a moment, a path that eventually lead both of us to tuck inside a cozy dinner with hot chocolate that warmed the very pit of my gut.

He suddenly looked up, and lowered his mug until his lips were revealed.

"You wanna head to the hotel's rooftop later?"

I tiled my head. What would we do up there?

Before I could ask, his brows lightly etched together, golden eyes avoiding mine. Looking at the place where the table met the wall.

"I hear there's a nice view."

So after we were done, we slipped into the hotel again, riding the elevator until there were no more floors, and slipping to the rooftop with the last of the stairs.

We sat with our legs out on the edge, city buzz beneath our feet. And then, slowly, Edward stood.

His hand took me away from it all, palm extending towards me in silent offering.

I knew the words before he spoke them.

"Dance with me."

I looked at him, giving enough confusion to put a question mark over my head. But he simply grinned, and continued on.

"Would you believe it if I said I've never danced before? Got some pretty clumsy two feet."

I had danced. Many times. But I couldn't. Not now. My feet were replaced with stone blocks. A ridiculous substitute for dexterity.

His fingers briefly curled, bringing me back to the present.

"Just once," he said.

So, with heat coming to my face, I placed my hand in his, feeling fingers curl around my palm. Strong. Secure. I stood, feeling Ed gently take on some of my weight. Helping me stand.

I stumbled for a moment, a brief blip in eternity. A one-legged stagger caused by the wound on my thɨġh.

Ed was there to catch me, one hand holding mine, the other hovering at the small of my back. His expression stayed worried, my own staying hollow.

Music continued to flow from beneath us, my heels clicking as I shifted for a moment, fully regaining my balance. Ed just smiled, and stepped closer, his hands shifting position.

His hand came to the middle of my lower back, sliding over between dimples I forgot were there. Even more heat came to my face, and I felt him squeeze my hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and with a small laugh riding underneath his words, added, "your face looks like the shade of a tomato."

I pointedly looked to him, glaring a little. He just laughed again, snickering through his grin.

I shifted my weight to one side, determined to get this over with. He followed my motion, rocking from one side to the other. Those golden eyes meeting mine, smiling at the bottoms. My throat went tight, anxiety building and brain beginning to swim. Why couldn't I do anything right...?

I tried to focus on something, anything but the person in front of me. How long had it been since I had stood this close to someone and kept this silent?

Over two years. Tears nearly brimmed my eyes. It's always over two years.

I squeezed his hand, feeling him gently return the pressure. Watching through blurred vision his face soften a little.

"You ok—" But my face had already buried inside his ċhėst. Tears staining the front of his shirt.

I heard him give the smallest of hums, head lowering. The tip of his nose coming against the top of my hair, cutting the distance between our heights. Another thing I was lost from.

I don't know when I began shaking, only that when I started I couldn't stop. Ed sighed lightly, and then his hand left mine. I kept my hand in the air, feeling nothing but the emptiness it deserved, and felt both of Ed's hands interlink at my waist. Connecting, entrapping me in a circle.

I was just going in the same cycle.

I sobbed soundlessly, collapsed against him as he stood there, no longer swaying. I was so useless—I couldn't even dance right.

He didn't say anything, just continued to stand. Continued to hear this agony with me, or at least try to. I wasn't sure what to do, but I felt like my brain wasn't working. It was rendered blank, incomplete as my body and voice shook. Clipping with sounds of sorrow. The only sounds I deserved to make, and even then I was making too much noise.

He said my name, gently, clipping against an inner wall. I flinched at the sound, feeling him bow towards me. Side of the head brushing against the side of mine. His hold gently increasing.

I thought about what I was preparing for, all those years ago. The dance I was learning, engagement ring on one finger as I practice those specific steps.

I didn't deserve it. I didn't even deserve these memories.

I tried to tell him this, in gasps and hiccuped words. Hyperventilated breaths. He simply held on, burying his mouth against the corner of my neck and shoulder. One arm coming to hold me at the upper back, embrace me in a hug I didn't deserve. The action burned, just feeling the hard steel.

All I was was metal. Cold. Unfeeling. Unyielding to any type of pressure. Unaffected by any type of warmth. But that was a lie; I was affected. Just in the wrong ways.

A hand lifted, but mine wasn't fast enough. The wrist simply twitched, caught off guard by the feeling of calloused skin against my temple. Delicately brushing my hair behind one ear.

As if he actually cared.

His smile grew, curving upwards a bit more. The bottoms of his eyes curving as well.

I wasn't worthy of such kindness.

My foot shifted back, nearing the edge a little bit more. A foolish, useless attempt to escape. I knew that even before Ed placed his hand at my waist. Sending a spark of electricity through me.

My hand shook, and his hold gently tightened. A kindness I just didn't deserve.

I had a mini-heart palpation, when Ed removed his hands from me. The sight of him shrugging off his coat was overcome by the blurred vision of tears, and I could do nothing but stand as that coat draped around me, sleeves untouched.

I just started, and eventually wiped at my eyes with the front of his coat. Staining, erasing what I could.

I had to stop breaking down...

I finished cleaning myself, resolving that this would be the last time. My hand was dropped at my side again, his coat slipping from my shoulder, bunching at the fold of my arm.

I only thought of how close I was, to the edge. Back then. Right now.

I only thought of oil and the smell of a forest. I only thought of the line that connected both of us into a constellation.

I just stayed still, and eventually Ed brought me down. Holding both my hands, and it was there on that roof that we stayed, simply listening to the cityscape below and focusing on taking breaths.

I focused, finding I could do that much. And at Ed's quiet words, I was coaxed against his ċhėst, coat wrapping me in another layer of warmth.