Eventually, his heartbeat slows, and his ragged breathing evens out, and he can stand up straight again. A heavy warmth still lingers insistently in his stomach and groin, but he feels a little more sure of himself now. He takes a deep breath, and neatens his hair and his clothes as best he can without a reflection to look in, and he thinks he's ready to face breakfast.
Ed watches him when he comes in, hovering cautiously over the table - which has a lovely plaid tablecloth thrown over it, decorated with artistic swirls. The patterns remind Al of something, he doesn't say anything; slides awkwardly into one of the chairs and watches his brother bustle around the kitchen, checking cupboards hopefully.
It feels odd, sitting at a table decorated with a cloth - and a little vase, too, containing a pair of presumably transmuted daffodils - wearing clothes, in a kitchen filled with light. It feels a bit like a dream, really; feels like a vague memory of being back in Risenbourg, warm and soft and gentle.
"Is there anything to eat at all?" Ed grouses, banging one of the cupboards shut and turning to face Al, putting his hands on his hips. He looks concerned; Alphonse starts and looks away, biting his lip. There is something to eat, in the cupboard under the sink, next to the tins of cat food; a large sack of bone-shaped dog kibble.
"N-no..." he says softly, scratching at the back of his neck; Ed gives him a funny look and says, "So what did you live on? Envy didn't need to eat, but you did."
"I..." Al swallows and ducks his face as low to the table as he can, attempt to shield his head with his arms. He's vaguely aware of Ed starting to love around the table, then changing his mind and drawing the opposite chair back.
"Alphonse?" he queries, gently, leaning forward a little on the table but nowhere near close enough to invade Al's personal space. "What's the matter?"
"B-brother..." Al closes his eyes and swallows, and then, stomach roiling, whispers, "Under the sink."
His brother cocks his head to the side slightly, and then pushes himself off his chair in one sharp motion, moving so fluidly Alphonse can't help but admire his older brother's body. He squats on his haunches to open the cupboard door; glances around and then reaches out for the sack of kibble. Al can see his shoulders tense; is thankful he can't see the expression on his elder brother's face, and buries his head in his arms again with a muffled squeak.
"Al..." Ed says, after a few minutes, "This is..."
"I'm sorry," Al whispers, eyes screwed shut; hears the rustle of cloth as Ed stands up and shuts the cupboard doors.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2010-04-19 03:51 am (UTC)Eventually, his heartbeat slows, and his ragged breathing evens out, and he can stand up straight again. A heavy warmth still lingers insistently in his stomach and groin, but he feels a little more sure of himself now. He takes a deep breath, and neatens his hair and his clothes as best he can without a reflection to look in, and he thinks he's ready to face breakfast.
Ed watches him when he comes in, hovering cautiously over the table - which has a lovely plaid tablecloth thrown over it, decorated with artistic swirls. The patterns remind Al of something, he doesn't say anything; slides awkwardly into one of the chairs and watches his brother bustle around the kitchen, checking cupboards hopefully.
It feels odd, sitting at a table decorated with a cloth - and a little vase, too, containing a pair of presumably transmuted daffodils - wearing clothes, in a kitchen filled with light. It feels a bit like a dream, really; feels like a vague memory of being back in Risenbourg, warm and soft and gentle.
"Is there anything to eat at all?" Ed grouses, banging one of the cupboards shut and turning to face Al, putting his hands on his hips. He looks concerned; Alphonse starts and looks away, biting his lip. There is something to eat, in the cupboard under the sink, next to the tins of cat food; a large sack of bone-shaped dog kibble.
"N-no..." he says softly, scratching at the back of his neck; Ed gives him a funny look and says, "So what did you live on? Envy didn't need to eat, but you did."
"I..." Al swallows and ducks his face as low to the table as he can, attempt to shield his head with his arms. He's vaguely aware of Ed starting to love around the table, then changing his mind and drawing the opposite chair back.
"Alphonse?" he queries, gently, leaning forward a little on the table but nowhere near close enough to invade Al's personal space. "What's the matter?"
"B-brother..." Al closes his eyes and swallows, and then, stomach roiling, whispers, "Under the sink."
His brother cocks his head to the side slightly, and then pushes himself off his chair in one sharp motion, moving so fluidly Alphonse can't help but admire his older brother's body. He squats on his haunches to open the cupboard door; glances around and then reaches out for the sack of kibble. Al can see his shoulders tense; is thankful he can't see the expression on his elder brother's face, and buries his head in his arms again with a muffled squeak.
"Al..." Ed says, after a few minutes, "This is..."
"I'm sorry," Al whispers, eyes screwed shut; hears the rustle of cloth as Ed stands up and shuts the cupboard doors.