Edward hated talking on the phone.

"Hey, Granny... It's me. It's been a while, right?"

Edward? You hate talking on the telephone, young man... (What in hell?)

"Yeah, well, I guess this is a special circumstance. Al's doctor wants to transfer him to a hospital outside of Risembool, with facilities better suited to his... condition. Is it alright if I stay with you and Winry for a while??"

... You know you're always welcome here, Edward. What about your schooling? The classes you're taking at Central are far more advanced than those offered in this city.

"I'm a genius, Granny," the statement that would otherwise have been proud and cocky was now a breathy, subdued chuckle. "It's in my brain, so I don't need a special school."

When will you be here?

"I don't know. I'll see you soon."

(Those boys have been all wrong since their mother passed away. I hope that Edward is not beyond help, now that his brother is gone...)

--

Risembool, the city of his youth.

He had watched a strip mall and an apartment complex grow into several highways, superstores and school districts, had watched a blank blue sky become obscured by silver-gray skyscrapers that's windows glittered in the sunset like an army of insane, depressing, beautiful, tiny spastic beacons.

When he, his mother, and his brother had moved to "The City," (before Risembool had become the next "City"), he had promised not to return.

Not until he earned his diploma at a vocational school for brilliant scientific minds, and studied thereafter in Europe, where his father had disappeared to.

He couldn't bear to look at the sprawling black asphalt bearing child's scars and squished weeds poking through. He wouldn't look at the laundry that fluttered from small balconies, or think about the "low end" part of town, where really old women lived with their cats and watched kids play tag in the communal lawn.

Ed sighed. It all flew beneath his tires, and he fantasized that he was leaving it all behind. But no. He was coming back. One and a half persons short of a family, approximately.

To earn his diploma at NFHS, a highly esteemed but nevertheless sub-par, public high school.

He glowered suddenly at the thought, his determination sparking again. 'I'll do anything to bring you back, so help me. This isn't going to stop us!'

"Stop brooding, Ed." A feminine voice from his right side scolded. He turned a sharp glare on her, but she grinned cheekily in response. Turning his eyes back on the road, he 'harrumphed!' loudly, choosing not to dignify if with an answer.

"We didn't get much of a chance to talk last night, you know..." Winry tried again, her firm soprano voice softening to a songbird's chime. "You... You look really good, Ed."

She reached over and clapped her palm amiably to his bicep, the awkward gesture not as light as her words.

They had been friends since childhood, but had never exchanged somber words. They laughed and terrorized each other.

Actually, that was the sort of relationship Edward had with everybody he really loved, he mused. He grinned in response, shaking off his darkness.

"I've been training. In martial arts, too." He glanced at her with smouldering, liquid sun-bright eyes, one elbow resting idly on the window ledge, and she swallowed dryly. "I can do amazing things." He breathed, but instead of bragging, it sounded like he was about to let her in on an enormous secret.

She subconsciously leaned closer.

Suddenly, the raw shriek of straining rubber caused Winry to scream in horror and Ed to let out a wild string of curses.

"What the FUCK?!" There had been no collision, and the female blond slumped back in her seat, shaking and relieved.

The car before them had tinted windows, so Edward couldn't see the face of the driver as he unaffectedly put the sleek black sports car in reverse, adjusted his angle, and continued his path through the parking lot as if nothing had happened.

He knew it was a "he" because a woman would have been a shaking bundle of otherwise petrified nerves, (like badass Winry,) not a dick about it. A single second longer to react, and Winry would have been squished.

... Ed didn't generally slow down very much in parking lots, and at the speed the other driver was going, they obviously shared that philosophy.

A lavender-blue mini van tooted impatiently behind them -- So, with fiercely narrowed eyes and passionate fury highly evident on his features, Ed made a beeline for the culprit car, blatantly ignoring Winry's objections.

It was a lousy parking job, not perfect and straight like he usually aimed for, but Ed didn't care. He burst from the vehicle as soon as it ceased moving, and took a threatening step towards the abnormally-long-haired figure who was already turning in anticipation.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He snarled, stalking forward a step like a feral animal.

Looking over the person poised before him, it took a minute for him to mentally confirm that it was, indeed, a male who had thoughtlessly (almost) plowed into his precious car and his personal mechanic (who happened also to be a childhood friend who might as well be his sister!)

He was taller than he initially appeared -- possibly a head and a half higher than Ed himself (though that was not uncommon for males of average height.)

His complexion was utterly unblemished; perfectly smooth, like a walking glamour, high-fashion model. And he was powdery pale -- which was possibly natural, since, from the wide expanse of bared skin, it seemed that it was a consistent shade.

Understated rivulets of muscle cast shadows on his abdomen. He was decked all in black: Denim black skinny jeans and super cushioned black skater shoes; a form-fitting wife beater (black, cut off right below the breast bone) -- and an unzipped, black leather jacket.

Neon green plastic squares patterned the belt that looped round his hips. It was the only accessory that juxtaposed the black; the rest of the job was left to Envy's white skin and light eyes. Long, slender fingers were stuffed casually in shallow pockets.

A piece of black fabric was circled several times around a head of thick, hazardously disorganized teal-black dreads (that dropped lazily past his ass -- Was that all-natural?, Edward wondered), and a downward pointed, crimson-outlined triangle adorned the front and center of it.

Clear purple eyes, like an un-obscured, late summer dusk, locked on his -- deep with playful confidence, haughtiness, insanity... And cruelty?

They were ringed with heavy black makeup (emerald mascara), which made them look huge, like a cartoon. An enormous grin split his glossed lips, revealing a mouthful of straight white teeth and a candy-red tongue.

"Do you like what you see, shorty?"

--

AN: I know high school AU (esp. with Envy and Ed, it seems xD ) are popular (dare I say, cliche?) But I guess this is just a for-fun project that I want to take on... :3 Get back into the hang of writing, and all that jazz. Also, I haven't seen a huge influx of EnvyxEd fanfiction, and that is my hands-down favorite pairing ever! I want to stimulate this ship! xD (Please tell me if you have any good recommendations! :D )

On a more related note, I want you to know that I'm drawing inspiration for Envy's appearance from Tom and Bill Kaulitz of Tokio Hotel! (Mainly Bill's face and body structure, plus a spin on Tom's hair! xD ) Please look at pictures, because... Well :D It's just EXACTLY how I want you to be picturing my version of Envy right now! xD (By the way :D The dreads idea actually came BEFORE Tom... :3 I'm brainstorming a cosplay for Yaoi Con '09, and dreads seemed like an original, workable, pretty-awesome-if-I-can-pull-it-off idea xD I still don't know if I have an Envy face... . I think Bill should cosplay Envy! XD )

Please R & R! I think I'll try and post another chapter later tonight :3

In celebration of my LAST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL HELL YEAH 3