Parallel lines - Editing

Guilty

Parallel Lines

Guilty

Riza’s POV

I gazed in the mirror, trailing my finger-tips along the wound at my shoulder gently with a slight sigh. It barely hurt, thanks to the drugs administered at the hospital and it had been sewn together nice and neat, so I didn’t have much to complain about.

Except the scar it would leave.

Not that I wasn’t used to scars, the one across my back was the primary reason I avoided dating.

Not that I didn’t date at all. I had had relationships before; it would be slightly depressing and embarrassing if I hadn’t.

Thinking about that led me to thinking about him though. So I stopped. It wasn’t that bad though, he didn’t mind it… but then again he was the one who put it there.

Black Haiatai whined and I looked over at him. He padded into the bathroom silently and sat down, tilting his head to the side to gaze up at me with big, round puppy dog eyes.

My mood lifted.

I bent down and slid my palm over his black and white head gently, murmuring soothingly and his eyes drifted close and he pushed up into my hand. I smiled at the dog, my only company in the cold, quiet apartment.

Black Haiatai pulled back from me suddenly and bounded around to face the other way before pulling his front paw up and jutting his nose out like a tracking dog.

He gave a single, shrill bark, his intelligent eyes focused on the front door.

Not even a second later, there was a knock.

Sighing, I grabbed my dressing gown from the hook next to the towel rack and slid my arms into it. It only reached to about my knees but it was better than answering the door in my under-wear. I walked to the door quietly, petting Black Haiatai’s head along the way.

There was another impatient knock.

Growling in annoyance I yanked the door open before freezing in surprise.

It was him, Mustang, casually clothed in a white shirt and black pants. He smirked unevenly at me and leaned against the door frame.

“Why lieutenant Hawkeye, don’t you look lovely… can I come in?” I eyed him suspiciously. He swayed slightly, and I could smell alcohol on his breath.

I scowled.

“Go home sir, your drunk.” He stood straighter and gave me an Oh come on! Look.

“You would’ve told me to go home even if I hadn’t drunk, wouldn’t you?!”

I sighed and crossed my arms.

“No, I would’ve told you to go and get a start on the paper work that is now thoroughly overdue.” He grimaced.

“I didn’t join the military to do paper work…” he mumbled

“Neither did I sir,” I retorted. “I joined to protect your idiotic ass.”

I cringed.

I guess I could be a bit kinder to him, he had nearly gone insane today and I suppose that was a valid reason to get drunk, hell, id even understand if he drank himself into unconsciousness, though it didn’t mean I thought he was any less of an idiot.

Besides, my idiotic, insensitive side had already kicked in and I found myself closing the door in his face.

His foot shot forward and wedged itself between the door and the frame, halting my progress. Frustrated I heaved at the door harder, merely to spite him, and was awarded with a quietly muttered stream of “ouch, ouch, ouch’s”. I relented my possibly mean behaviour and peeked through the gap in the door.