My first attempt at writing anything here. It's just something I started a few days ago when I was sitting up late at night and listening to some Corrs music. I got randomly inspired, and, because I keep a notebook close to my bed, wrote some stuff down. I guess this could be a starting...I don't know. But I'm really just posting to see if anyone even likes it. That way I know whether it's worth continuing or not...

It's kind of Ed's POV...and no...I don't own either of them. The characters are property of Arakawa-sensei. Enjoy...

I could feel his long fingers entwine their way into my hair. I refused to accept that the low moan of pleasure that broke the evening's silence came from my own kiss swollen lips. His free hand cupped my face, turning it towards him. The moonlight shone beautifully on his androgynous face. I didn't want to think about it; about what was going on between us every evening.

I loved every touch, every kiss, every time we made love. But I hated myself. I hated that I'd let him get so close, that I allowed him to return night after night. I was disgusted with myself that my body reacted so pleasurably every time his slender fingers caressed me. And yet I gave no protest, made no effort to stop him.

Still, when we lay together in the last hours of the evening, his breathing slowed with sleep, I catch myself crying. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of shame. Why did I allow him back each night? Why did I keep this secret, even from my brother? I refused to think that I'd fallen in love with the creature, regardless of how many times he insisted he felt that way about me. No alchemist could ever fall for the monstrosity created by alchemy's greatest taboo. The thought was absurd.

Especially after what he'd done to me.

He was less demanding this time, apparently content with simply stealing a kiss every now and then. He snuggled in against me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something he often did before dozing off. I knew he'd be gone by morning. He had to be. We couldn't be caught together. Too much was at stake for both of us. So he enjoyed what time he could. Or so he told me.

I could hear his breathing become more uniform. He was falling asleep. As he often did, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in against him. Instinctively, I rested my head against his bare chest.

And then he whispered those words; the ones that evoked feelings I refused to acknowledge.

"I love you Ed."

But this time, instead of remaining silent, I uttered a response without thinking; a response that would potentially ruing my life.

"I love you too Envy."

To be continued?