It's Not Checkmate Yet | FMA

Roy's POV

"Human emotions, unfortunately, also contain the deadly flaw of jealousy. The good thing is, however, is that you only envy things that you care for." ~Me (top of my head quote of the day, folks)

***

I could tell that I was glaring as I watch as my Lieutenant, and an even lower-ranking officer, dance together. I can't help but feel hot and angry when I see Riza smile and tuck her short hair behind her ears, as if this were fun to her. It probably was. How could I have been so betrayed like this?

"So, how's Riza been doing as a dog?" Rebecca, Riza's friend, asks me. She was sloppily leaning against the bar, twirling her long hair on her slender fingers. I snap to attention and shrug, trying to clear my head without much effect.

"Dunno, she seems to be adjusting," I mumble. Then, for casuality's sake, I add; "She's been shooting a lot."

"That's my Riza!" Rebecca giggles, then hiccups. I think she may have had one drink too many when she slips out of her chair, long dark hair flying. Her body slumps on the floor, a large heap right in the way of everybody's path.

"Are you okay?" I ask, though I'm not particularly concerned for her well-being. As always, I have to pretend to be polite to others to appear to be charming.

"Just as great as ever!" Rebecca slurs. I help her back into her chair and she shakes her head, as if that would clear the alcohol fogging up her brain. Obviously, it was to no avail. She giggles again, which was a high-pitched, shrill sort of sound.

I sigh and lean back, watching Riza and Havoc spin around joyously. I'm not sure, but I think that the twinge of anger I'm feeling is jealously. I was jealous of a couple of Lower Ranks messing around.

What level have I sunk to?

I let out an exhale of breath when Havoc moves his hands down to Riza's hips, which seemed to be much more pronounced with her dress. I feel like throwing up when Riza slides her hand up his back and onto his shoulders. Why doesn't she do that to me.

Calm down! I scold myself, suddenly almost grabbing hold of my lost senses. It didn't seem to help, though, in spite of all the words I was using to console myself. They're only dancing!

"Look who's jealous!!" Rebecca teases, evidently catching my attention and automatically using them against me. That wasn't fair. Besides, how could some drunk lady be able to read my emotions so well?

"Am not!" I retort scornfully, as if I were a child. I sure felt like one. "I am just....observing the dance floor, is all." What a lame excuse.

"Mhm, cause people always glare at the dance floor like they wanna kill one of their men," Rebecca states sarcastically. "If I were you, I'd just plow through there and kick Havoc's-"

"You really are drunk," I interrupt, before she could finish. I was done pretending to be nice. Maybe that was the reason Riza liked Havoc better. Because I'm mean.

"AM NOT!" Rebecca shrieks, probably sounding as I did seconds ago. "I'm just...um... I don't have some lame excuse like you, okay? But I'm not drunk, I have to drive home tonight."

"Mhm," I say, not fully believing her. But her sharp eyes told me that she really wasn't drunk, and always acted like a hyper-active monkey. Note the sarcasm for me? Thanks. Suddenly, I take on a sly expression as an idea pops into my head. 

"Rebecca," I grin, sounding evil. "Would you care for a dance?"

"SURE!" Rebecca shouts. I smirk as I take her and she hobbles over to the floor on her unsteady, heeled feet. It was strange, to have to support somebody this way. Riza never needed support. She was always strong enough to stand on her own.