Title: Her
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own FMA. However, this is MY fanfiction. If you would like to use this fanfiction for anything, please message me or comment to do so. Please put credit where credit is due. Thanks guys!
Warnings: Sex, language.
Pairing: EdXWinry (My FMA OTP!!! 3 )
Summary: Edward finally understands what it is.
Originally written for live journal and posted to the ed_winry & fm_alchemist communities.
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"If I could reach up and hold a star for every time you've made me smile, the entire evening sky would be in the palm of my hand."
-Unknown
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There were many things about Winry that just annoyed the living hell out of him. Whether it was her ability to make him feel like a complete child or her innate sense of when to say the absolute wrong thing. Not to mention she was overbearing. Controlling. And loud. Damn was she loud sometimes.

Now, however, her noise level was encouraged. Only here. And if she was in danger. But here, right now, he couldn't make her as loud as he wanted. She seemed to grow quiet and exposed here. In this bed.

All the day's worries melted once the door to the room was shut and the two were locked behind its pine surface.

He could be himself. He could be Edward. The real Edward. And she could be Winry. The real Winry.

Not that the day didn't allow them to be themselves. But at night, when the sheets were peeled back and the dancing light of stars filled the room: all hostilities were forgotten and love was remembered.

He was always gone so this was their chance to reconnect. Not that they ever really needed to worry about distance. No matter how long he was away with Alphonse, she was always here. Always gushing over her tools. And always here...waiting for him. She always waited.

"Edward-" She purred into the side of his neck, his hair falling into her face.

The bed creaked, whispering their sin to the room. But still, they continued. As they always did. As they always would.

It was comforting to know that even if something did happen on his journey and prevented him from coming back (as death would be the only thing to keep him from this girl beneath him), that he had been lucky enough to have her love. Something not many people could say when they left this world. He, however, could scream it to the heavens and know that it was true.

Winry loved him.

It was always there in those big blue eyes of hers. Always studying him, making sure he was alright. Always waiting for a smile or some sort of reaction. How she loved to stare into his golden eyes and just get lost. He knew as much. He was clueless about many things but over the years he had come to realize that Winry adored his eyes.

His body began to sweat. Their slick skin sliding against each other, only heightening their senses and needs to be sated. Sated by each other. No one else would do.

The smell of rain and metal fills his sense of smell. Something else uniquely her. A mixture of her shampoo and her workshop. It shot right through him every time. Even when he least expected it to.

One day she had been yelling about his automail and tightening his arm back into place so roughly that he was sure he would faint from the pain. And then her scent had hit him. And immediately the pain had been forgotten and lust had been replaced. The only screams that left the room where screams of pleasure instead of pain.

And her hair. A light blonde, in contrast to his darker shade that matched his eyes. It was always pulled back into a pony tail, high off her back, leaving her neck unhindered and completely tempting during the day. But at night, she let it cascade down her pale skin to play at her lower back. To tease his aching fingers and hungry stare with its shimmer and softness.

His ability to hold on was quickly dissolving. It wouldn't be long now. And from what he could judge from her body, it wouldn't be long for her either.

And her smile. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes sarcastic. And sometimes suggestive. He liked to see them all.

But her tears. They killed him. Almost like every drop was his doing: whether it be him directly or indirectly it didn't matter. She should never have to cry. Ever. He hated the way her blue orbs sat inside of red rimmed skin, eyelashes soaked through with the salty matter. He hated the way the tears stained her cheeks. The way they made her hiccup. The way it hurt her. But sometimes he couldn't help her. Sometimes she simply had to cry. And how he despised it. Something inside him growled every single time. But instead of showing her his anger, he would plant a face of indifference on and simply stand there until she was finished.

Ever since they had been children she had been there. And she was here now. She would always be here.

He growled as he laced his fingers with hers possessively, thrusting in one final time to spill himself inside of her. She followed his release, moaning his name to the quiet room.

His truest friend aside from his brother. His enemy at times. His mechanic. His pet peeve. His lover. She was everything to him.

"I love you, Ed," She whispered against his ear. Four words she kept for behind these closed doors. Four words that meant the world to him. Four words that were kept private and thus never losing their value. Their magic or meaning.

He smiled against her mouth as he kissed her, their breathing returning to normal.

And even though alchemy, his journey, the military, and the various situations he and Al found themselves in kept him from being with her as much as he truly desired, he was more than happy with the time he was allotted. It was precious. Always precious. And as of right now, only at night they could expose themselves to each other. Letting their true colors glow.

During the day he was the midget, the shrimp, the short fry. During the day she was the nag, the nuisance, the loud-mouth, the occasional moody-ass.

But at night, he was Ed. Her Ed. And she was Winry. His Winry.

Yes, his Winry.

He loved her as well.

He felt himself blush under her scrutiny, his hair covering his eyes from her.

"I love you, Winry."

Four more words that never left the room but always stayed in their hearts. Yes, no matter where he was he was secure in knowing that she'd be here: waiting. Longing. Lusting. And loving him.

That was one of the only reasons he hung on. It was his brother. It was his mother. And it was her.

The place where his heart resided. Where his mind wandered to. It was always her.

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Ok so what did you think? Not too sex oriented but still hot and steamy where it needed to be. A bit intimate. Hope you all enjoyed it!