The Water Alchemist

Begin Again

Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Begin Again

***

A month passed before we could blink. Al was recovering well, only needing his cane occasionally, taking walks to gain his strength back. My voice came back without an issue, and the injuries I'd sustained were just phantoms of the past. Ed was enjoying an early retirement from the military, being that he couldn't exactly continue as a state alchemist without alchemy. He got a pension and had even been recognized for his contribution and heroism from the Promised Day. He occasionally forgot his inability to perform alchemy, trying to fix a broken plate with it or hang a picture a little easier. He was getting used to his arm well enough, though – in the beginning – he couldn't stop bumping it into random corners. I thought we would have to childproof the house for a time. He managed, though— we were all recovering, still returning to center, to a sense of normalcy.

It was an unusually quiet day in the house; Pinako out at the shops with Winry and Elias, picking up a rather large automail order, and Al away on his daily walk with Den, which had become easier for him to manage. Which meant that Ed and I were left to our own devices. I was preparing lunch when Ed had walked into the kitchen. He greeted me briefly before padding around, eventually settling to lean on the counter beside me. I watched from the corner of my eye as he crossed over himself, arms and legs, looking out the window into the backyard. I waited for him to say something, but he seemed deep in thought, so I let it be, going about my business. It wasn't exactly uncommon for Ed to follow me around the house even if he didn't need to talk. We tended to draw together like magnets, meeting somewhere in the middle. But something was different, uneasy about him. He began tapping his foot to the ground and even started to whistle. I glanced at him. He was trying way too hard to seem nonchalant.

"You okay?" I asked, noticing the way he scrunched his nose like something was bothering him.

"Yeah," he said, waving me off. I shrugged and continued to julienne the carrot for the salad I was preparing. There was a moment of quiet, and then he spoke. "Hey, Marina?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we, uh... are we together?" he asked timidly.

My hand slowed but didn't stop, the chopping sound loud in my head. I hadn't had the most experience with love or relationships, but I had perhaps mistakenly believed that – though we hadn't said it – we knew exactly what we were to one another. It dawned on me that we never did talk about it, never had defined the relationship. We'd spent all this time enjoying the comfort of being together, without ever saying we were. I could feel his eyes on me, and I paused, looking dead ahead.

"I don't know— are we?" I asked in return, turning to him, allowing us to clarify. I swallowed thickly. Giving him the option to opt-out. What had also occurred to me was the possibility that he'd not want something beyond this, something more serious.

"Yeah," he affirmed quickly. His lip quivered as if restraining a grin, and he scratched the back of his head, a blush dusting his cheek. "I mean, I would like to be. If that's okay with you." I was the one who had to restrain my expression, biting my lips together, but I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me. My heart thrummed in my throat, a giddy excitement rising in my chest as I placed the knife down and faced him.

"Is this you asking me?" I asked as steadily as I could manage.

"Would you say yes?" he asked, a nervous glint in his eye.