You spent most of your youth daydreaming, there was not much else to do. In a dusty old house, sitting against the bedroom windowsill with eyes locked up at the sky, you'd imagine being amongst the birds while soaring through the clouds and feeling the breeze on your face. Something about taking flight made you feel free and you could picture it so clearly. In reality, however, your feet always remained stuck to the ground.
And that's where you are now.
The task you both are here for is simple, it's the execution that's complicated. Neither of you have exchanged more than a few words since Mustang's arrival, not that there's any point in small talk. You both understand the agreement and know exactly why you're doing it.
Still, you feel a lingering sense of dread and anticipation tugging on your chest. This is supposed to be a good thing. You want this to happen, yet you fiddle with your thumbs like you still anticipate an inevitable downfall. You're not new to this feeling, it's as if an invisible storm cloud follows and spins all around you. It crept in again as soon as he reached your door and it almost goes unnoticed because it feels that normal to you by now.
Surely some part of him senses this as he sits at your kitchen table across from you. Both of you need to eat before doing this but he has barely even touched his drink. You watch his eyes darting around your apartment like he's trying to lose himself or find his bravery, whichever comes first, but you can tell he's not truly paying attention to anything. Normally that behavior would frustrate you, but you know Mustang well enough by now to understand that for him, it only means he's taking the situation very seriously. And that should reassure you, but you're still feeling restless. This has been a long time coming.
This is a waiting game that you two play all too well and it feels like you've done it a million times already and if you have to do it one more time you'll go crazy. You need this done, but to go through with something like this takes careful consideration, you know that, still it does nothing to soothe your nerves.
Mustang spent time practicing his aim, collecting medical supplies, (Stealing from the military practitioners when they weren't looking.), and rereading every book he could find on how to avoid possible blustering or infections. The most preparation you had done for today was shower with the lights off. There's no point in fretting over the past now as his gaze meets yours and you decide to take that as an indication to break the silence.
"Are you ready, Sir?"
"Only if you are."
You stand and he immediately knows your answer. You waste no time making the way to your bedroom, him following your lead. As you walk, you catch a peek of Mustang behind you. He and you are so different now that it's nearly impossible to recognize the adolescent apprentice boy when you first met him.
They almost seem like two different people. Almost.
Even now, being among Mustang brings a sense of nostalgia and you think back to that young man, how eager he was to learn alchemy. You remember bringing him tea as he studied diligently in your father's side study and in exchange he brought you flowers the next day. At first, you were not amused, but he quickly proved to be a bright light in your otherwise dull world.
