Yes, another set of Royai drabbles, I enjoy them so much. With these drabbles, you will notice a theme of something/something. Sometimes contradicting, or it may be related. With my writing, you'll see a few odd philosophies or a bit of etymology. Not much, I assure you.
Silent Devotion
Chapter One:
Martyrdom/Suicide
Summary: Often she finds him drawing arrays in the sign, recognizing the symbols. Where was the line drawn at with martyrdom or is it considered suicide?
Again, she walked in to find Major Mustang drawing in the sand, his mind focusing in a world she cannot see. What troubles him so that she cannot even comfort him? In due time, she always say to herself. How long will it be before he tries to attempt this elaborate suicide?
She knows her Major, her Roy, she feared for him, she loved him. She knew he wasn't the young boy she met years ago, he was a broken man ruled by orders and guilt.
She collapsed behind him as she wrapped his arms around him. Fraternizing or not, they were vulnerable, and they were hopeless and stupid. They need some reason to remain alive, that reason slowly fading away.
"Come back to me, Roy." She whispered in his ears as he placed his hands on hers
A slight pause came as he looked up focusing only on her hands. His thoughts drifted toward the battle. What price would he have to pay for redemption? His sins weighed heavily on his soul, no matter how much he thought about it, there were very few things he could do about it.
"Riza...What's the difference between martyrdom and suicide?"
His question shocked her as she tried to get a better look at his face
"A martyr is someone who dies for a belief, principal, or cause." She answered, true to her blunt nature
An odd way, considering the lengths she will and had gone with this man, can one consider her a martyr? Or will it be suicide considering she would willingly give up her life for him? For this broken man...or is it stupidity? It's not something she could answer as easily.
She felt the ignition cloth on his hands, carefully removing them. In his frame of mind, she feared what he would do to himself.
She placed the gloves in her pockets shocked at how easy it was to get them. What was going through this man mind? Usually it would've been difficult to even touch him, thankfully his depression hasn't deepened. She fears what would happen if did, or what she might've seen.
"What would be your definition of suicide?" She gazed at him for a moment
"When someone loses the will to survive." In definition, it could partially describe him at the moment. "If you wanted to kill yourself, you could've done it a long time ago, you're afraid." She said taking a deep breath.
The words hit him because he knew she was right, this was a war-zone. He scoffed softly. He could've easily died. Why was he still alive? Questions, there were too many and no answer.
He sighed softly as his dark eyes stared back at hers. What was exactly going through her mind? He felt guilty to drag her through all of this. It was his battle, not hers. He felt comfort knowing she will be there, not abandon him will a rag doll soon as the hard times hit.
"Riza, I hate your logic at times." Was his only response as she shook her head lightly. She was his subordinate, not his psychiatrist. She was willing to be there for him as long as it takes, for to guide him and to care for him.