Ashes

Now watch me rise up and leave all the ashes you made out of me
When you said that we were wrong, life goes on, look how wrong I could beNow watch me rise up and leave all the ashes you made out of me
When you said that we were wrong, life goes on, you blew me away. “Ashes” Embrace

He was the Flame Alchemist.

Yet, she was the one doing the burning.

Glare anyways as in a fit of righteous anger unfit for a person of her station, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye shoved her superior back into the bank of lockers behind them and slapped him hard enough to crack his lip.

The side of Roy’s face smacked against the cool metal of the locker and bounced once before he took the time to stare at the bench lining the lockers and blink away the multi-colored dots that exploded in his vision upon impact. His face throbbed as he stayed silent, having no real idea what caused her to erupt the way she did.

Hawkeye was violent at times, normally those concerning precarious stacks of file folders, but hitting him brought it to a whole new level…

…A respectable, need to walk on your toes sort of level and one that would take some definite getting used to.

His mind demanded otherwise as his hands automatically locked onto her arms, squeezing tight enough to make her wince.

“Do you have any idea how fast shit like that will get you fucking court-marshaled, Lieutenant?” He roared his face close enough that he could watch her eyelashes shake from the force. “Do you have any idea just what hell my battalion went through before you came waltzing in here in a fit of anger that even tops mine?” Each question was punctuated by his shoving her back into the same locker bank over and over until he either got tired of asking questions or they both paid attention to the condition of the other.

Blood coursed down both dust encrusted faces from scratches and scrapes littering the flesh.

He was the Flame Alchemist. It was his job to burn things, and he did during that battle. Roy never meant to cause that tank to explode, accidentally murdering four of the seven snipers they had placed on the rooftops surrounding the causeway.

Riza had been one of the surviving three; found blown back against a rooftop shack from the blast that occurred not even 100 feet from her.

But explosions be damned, the bitch actually had the gall to hit him and not even look sorry for it.

To be honest, he didn’t know which upset him more, but the physical blow was winning.

“Do you, Riza?” His question was laced with fury, dark and close enough to unnerve the both of them.

Hawkeye answered the affirmative and shuddered involuntarily. Her back ached from being repeatedly slammed into the lockers and her spirit ached because his did and they were closer then most people figured.

Which was probably one of the reasons they were so angry at each other at this moment.

What a strange image they probably made if any one was to walk into the locker room at that moment.

Sadly, they were too furious at each other to care about anyone else except each other and the fact that he was kissing her just as roughly as he had treated her earlier.