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whiskeycoffeeTitle: Tristitio
Pairing: Roy/Sadness
Prompt: Apple, Hat, Glove
Word Count: 344
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Angst (DUH)
Notes: OMG, I should not love this creature like I do. Sadness was an original character created in my teeny-tiny vignette, Mea Culpa.
It was sitting slumped in the corner of Roy’s darkened bedroom in the long afternoon shadows when he found it, its face wearing its customary expression of hopelessness, as if it might burst into tears at any moment. It was cradling Roy’s military dress cap in its hands, staring at it morosely, every inch as devastated in appearance as Roy himself had been last time he’d had that cap in his hands -- at Maes’ funeral.
“Tristitio,” he said softly as he crossed the room, taking off his gloves and tucking them into the pockets of his uniform trousers. The homunculus didn’t look up at him, so he knelt in front of it, tilting its chin up. “Sadness, why do you have my cap?”
“You look at it the way you look at me sometimes,” it whispered, and Roy’s heart twisted. This -- thing, this creation of his, was so different than the other homunculi. He supposed it was because, for all practical purposes, he was its father. The others had a different father, one who poured into them all his greed, wrath, pride, lust, envy, sloth, and gluttony.
He started as he realized why it was the way it was: it had been born of Roy’s very own sadness. He’d fathered this creature in hopelessness, and it was from that emotion that it drew breath.
He let his hand drop from Sadness’s chin, tracing down its throat to the hollow of its clavicle. Regret was written in every line of his face as he leaned forward and kissed its Adam’s apple tenderly. Sitting up, he covered the homunculus’s lips with his own, apology in every soft movement of his kiss.
He wanted so much to make the pitiful creature smile, to make it look like Maes had -- even just once -- but he was afraid that if it did, it might cease to exist, so when it began crying, he didn’t stop to kiss away the tears. He just let the salt taste mingle on their tongues and drew it more tightly into his arms.
Pairing: Roy/Sadness
Prompt: Apple, Hat, Glove
Word Count: 344
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Angst (DUH)
Notes: OMG, I should not love this creature like I do. Sadness was an original character created in my teeny-tiny vignette, Mea Culpa.
It was sitting slumped in the corner of Roy’s darkened bedroom in the long afternoon shadows when he found it, its face wearing its customary expression of hopelessness, as if it might burst into tears at any moment. It was cradling Roy’s military dress cap in its hands, staring at it morosely, every inch as devastated in appearance as Roy himself had been last time he’d had that cap in his hands -- at Maes’ funeral.
“Tristitio,” he said softly as he crossed the room, taking off his gloves and tucking them into the pockets of his uniform trousers. The homunculus didn’t look up at him, so he knelt in front of it, tilting its chin up. “Sadness, why do you have my cap?”
“You look at it the way you look at me sometimes,” it whispered, and Roy’s heart twisted. This -- thing, this creation of his, was so different than the other homunculi. He supposed it was because, for all practical purposes, he was its father. The others had a different father, one who poured into them all his greed, wrath, pride, lust, envy, sloth, and gluttony.
He started as he realized why it was the way it was: it had been born of Roy’s very own sadness. He’d fathered this creature in hopelessness, and it was from that emotion that it drew breath.
He let his hand drop from Sadness’s chin, tracing down its throat to the hollow of its clavicle. Regret was written in every line of his face as he leaned forward and kissed its Adam’s apple tenderly. Sitting up, he covered the homunculus’s lips with his own, apology in every soft movement of his kiss.
He wanted so much to make the pitiful creature smile, to make it look like Maes had -- even just once -- but he was afraid that if it did, it might cease to exist, so when it began crying, he didn’t stop to kiss away the tears. He just let the salt taste mingle on their tongues and drew it more tightly into his arms.
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