Big Book of Anime One Shots [REQUESTS CLOSED]

Mustang x Reader ~ Smiles

@LokisAsgard I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AS LONG AS IT DID IM A SHITYY PERSON *hides in corner* Anyways, I made it somewhat longer to compensate- I hope you enjoy!

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     You were the subordinate, he was the commander; it could never work.

     It was the truth, however unpleasant, and you constantly made an effort to remind yourself of the fact. You kept a constant smile present on your face, attempting to work and do your best no matter the circumstances or your employment. 

     No matter the circumstances... Including the 'minor' one of being in love with your boss. 

     Around Mustang's office you were known simply as [y/n] [l/n], the happy go lucky captain with a slight penchant for mischief. Surprisingly enough, Mustang never got you in trouble for it- perhaps he never noticed, or perhaps he simply turned a blind eye. Although Hawkeye and Havoc and the rest were sometimes annoyed by your constant antics, the colonel never said a word. 

     Speaking of Mustang, you thought, here he comes. Your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the man as he walked past your desk. The way his dark hair gleamed in the rays of sunlight visible through the window. His dark eyes, calculating and cold but also warm and amused. He was a playboy, as you well knew- stealing women from right under the noses of his subordinates. You didn't care, though. Didn't care that he would never love you, never could love you (well, you not caring wasn't quite the truth, but you weren't ready to admit that to yourself just yet). Even if it was just through smiles and professional work, you could still be around the man you loved, still feel his intoxicating presence from day to day. 

     It hurt you, and you knew it. It was hurting you and would continue to hurt you, but you would live through the agony because you couldn't help it that you were in love with Colonel Mustang. 

     You realized suddenly that your eyes had rested on the said object of your romanticism for far too long, and your cheeks flushed as you realized that he was staring right back at you. Quickly averting your eyes, you returned to your work, covering your embarrassment with a smile. You never saw the small smirk that was present on the colonel's lips for a mere second, just a flash and gone. 

*.  *.  *.  *.  *.  

      Not three days later, the news hit you abruptly. Your colleague, Major Hughes, had been found murdered in a phone booth. If truth be told you had always seen Hughes as an older brother figure, slightly aloof but always there in times of need. Now that he was gone, you had no idea what to do or what you even wanted. 

       None of your family was here in East City; you felt alone and frightened. You lived by yourself, and an irrational fear crept upon you that perhaps you would be the next target of these strange murderers that had shot your friend. Unable to hold in your emotions, you took refuge in your small apartment, drawing comfort from the familiar surroundings. 

       You didn't show up for work the next morning either. Knowing Hawkeye, the woman would probably disapprove of your actions but understand why you had stayed home. Thinking of your fellow soldiers, though, brought on bittersweet memories of Colonel Hughes. With a sob you slumped onto your couch for what must gave been the third or fourth time that morning alone. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the tears stream down your cheeks. Each drop burned burned with the grief that you felt for your mentor and friend. 

         "Why Hughes?" you said miserably, drawing your knees up to your chest. "Why Hughes? He had a family, a life..." You suddenly swallowed the words that threatened to spill out of your mouth. The words that said that the victim should have been you instead, that you were just a captain with no close relatives and no family to care for, just a captain holding a foolish infatuation fur Mustang. 

        A knock at your apartment door startled you out of your reverie. You wiped your eyes, attempting to hide the fact that you'd been crying, even though you knew that it was pointless. The puffiness and red visible from hours of tears wouldn't go away that easily. 

       "I'm coming," you called hoarsely, making your way to the entrance. "Just a mo-"

        You froze halfway through opening the door. 

        Because there, in front of you, stood Colonel Mustang. 

        It was pouring rain outside, the weather seeming to match your mood, and Mustang was soaking wet (the entrance to your apartment was outside). He looked, you thought dryly, as bad as you felt. His uniform was soaking wet, as were his gloves, and his bangs dripped water down onto his face. 

        "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked dryly, flicking water out of his hair only to have it just as quickly replaced by more. 

          "Of course, Colonel," you said, gesturing for him to come inside. With a shiver you shut the door behind you- the rain was chilly, and you weren't wearing anything heavier than pajama pants. Turning to face the man the had just taken off his coat and hung it on your coat rack, you hesitated. 

         "Colonel-"

         Mustang waved a hand in your direction. "Enough with that. Just call me Roy." 

         Your eyebrows rose high on your scalp, but you made no comment. It wasn't, however, usual for a man of his rank to allow a subordinate to calm him by his first name. 

         "Col- sorry, Roy," you said, moving back to your couch, "But why are you here?"     

          He blatantly avoided the question. "You and Hughes were close, weren't you?" he asked quietly, sitting down on the chair closest to you. 

          "Yes," you said quietly, not able to look at him directly. You knew just how close that the two had been, but you hadn't really taken into account how he must be feeling about Hughes' death. Now you saw the signs- dark circles under Roy's eyes, tight lines around his mouth- for what they truly were. Signs of grief and pain. 

            Without warning the Colonel moved, transferring himself from the chair to right next to you on the couch. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at him, seeing your own pain mirrored in his dark eyes. He leaned a little bit closer to you, moving closer and closer until his proximity was both overwhelming and exhilarating all at once. Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away nervously. 

          That is, you looked away until Roy's gentle hand on your face turned it up to face him once more. Now, looking into his eyes, you could see not only the pain of grief but a tenderness there. Was it... Was it directed at you? Your heart pounded in your chest, and your eyes widened slightly. Before you could say anything, Roy pressed his lips to yours- gently at first but then rougher, tangling his fingers in your [h/c] hair just as you tangled yours in his. 

          Eventually you both came up for air, and you pulled away slightly, gasping. Your cheeks were flaming now, and Roy smiled slightly. 

         "I knew how close you and Hughes were," he said, running his fingers lightly down your jawline. "I thought that maybe I could comfort you." 

        Tears brimmed in your [e/c] eyes, but despite that you managed a smile. 

         Roy stared at you, seeming to momentarily push away his own grief to help alleviate yours. 

        "You look pretty when you smile, [y/n]."