The Empath Alchemist {Edward Elric X Reader}

7

Edward glared out ahead of him from where he sat on Winry's porch. A deep frown tugged at his lips. His brows furrowed so much that it almost hurt, yet the pout still remained. He couldn't think of anything else if he tried, he was just worried about (Y/n). How could he not worry, he asked himself over and over again. His best friend was avoiding him for the first time in four years. The way she forced her eyes downward when he spoke to her and the sight of her spiritless smile was not sitting well with the Fullmetal Alchemist. That smile of hers brightened cloudy skies and brought joy to the faces of strangers due to the pure brilliance of it and the warming feeling behind it. Seeing something like that appear so drab on the outgoing girl's face saddened Ed. It angered him- frustrated him, especially if (Y/n) thought that she could fool him, of all people, with something that he had grown much too familiar with.

He sighed, eyes shifting to watch a pair of birds fly by overhead.

What had he done wrong?

How could he even figure out a way to help (Y/n) if he didn't even know what he did to make her feel like she couldn't come to him. She always came to him. Edward at least thought that she would find solace in his company more than she did before the Scar incident, not the exact opposite.

For a moment, it had felt like they were closer- more connected when he held her close to him in the infirmary. The way (Y/n) behaved during the train ride and throughout the rest of the day told him that the two were back to normal, that they had learned a valuable lesson and moved on from it together. Did something change between when they turned in for the night and now? He couldn't have possibly done something to offend her if he hadn't been in contact with her within the only logical timeframe.

A stray strand of blonde hair fell into his line of sight when he recalled (Y/n)'s slight change in demeanor after Alphonse had gone to speak with her on the train. Could it have been something they talked about that she pondered over throughout the night, resulting in her urge to remain as far away from her best friend as possible? It wouldn't have made sense because even after she and his brother spoke, she hadn't avoided him. It was quite the opposite actually. So what could it have been?

Edward hummed to himself in irritation, thrumming his metal fingers against his cheek. (Y/n) had told him to relax, but he knew she wouldn't do the same if the roles were reversed and she were in his shoes. This is what they did for each other, this was one of the many ways they expressed their care for each other. They worried like hell, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had likely picked up that trait from (Y/n) somewhere along the line. The blonde had grown much too accustomed to (Y/n) being by his side 24/7, and though he'd never admit it out loud it felt weird to be sitting in Winry's house while (Y/n) was out in the town without him. The (h/c) haired girl was a constant in his and Al's chaotic lives. When he wasn't with her, it felt like something was missing- like he was incomplete.

Edward scrunched his brows further and closed his eyes at the thought.

(Y/n) was his best friend, and there was nothing he would not do for her- but sometimes it felt like his feelings were far too intense for the label of 'friendship'. There were times when the impulse to hold her and protect her from everyone and everything was far too strong for him to call it platonic. There were times when he would just look at her, wondering how he got lucky enough to have a person as special as her in his life. Did friends think of each other all the time? As (Y/n)'s friend, was Edward supposed to feel so strange when (Y/n) did something as simple as run errands without him by her side, without basking in the warmth of her smile or throwing petty insults her way to see how she'd react? For God's sake, he was supposed to be spending time with his childhood friend- not isolating himself out on her porch and waiting for (Y/n) to come back like a damn lap dog.