Musebox RP

[thoughtbubble]

Black Hayate had started pushing his bowl around and crying while Riza was in the bathroom. Roy knew she'd be out soon but the sound of the dog licking his lips pitifully won him over. He could at least try to find the hungry pup his food.

He had spent enough time in Riza's apartment before to find his way around in the dark and Hayate is smart enough to move out of the way as he walks into the small kitchen area. Which cabinet had the dog food again? It was one of the lower ones, yes, on the bottom shelf. Close to Hayate's bowl- of course, the most convenient placement, just as Riza would have it. He reaches out, feels the wood against his fingers, and slides his fingertips down until they find the knobs. The cabinet squeaks open and Hayate starts panting faster in anticipation.

"Just a minute. Wait. Where is your bowl?" Roy kneels and puts one hand on the container where the dog food is kept, confirming its presence. He reaches out, across the floor trying to locate the bowl Hayate had just been pushing around. "Where did you put it?" His hand meets the side of a bowl but it's the wrong one. Water splashes out of the drinking bowl at his touch and Roy sighs loudly in exasperation. Hayate whines, unbeknownst to Roy he's holding his food bowl in his jaws.

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[equinamity]

Riza happened into the kitchen while Roy was attempting to find the dog bowl, leaning against the wall and pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders as she watched Black Hayate walk closer to Roy, attempting to bump the bowl into the alchemist's hand.

One had to give the dog points for either perseverance or ingenuity. Or, maybe a little bit of both.

"Hayate!" She sounds more exasperated with the dog's antics than anything else, but the he turns anyway, the empty food dish colliding with Roy's wrist as he spins to face his master. "Put the bowl down."

With a clack the bowl is dropped, and Riza steps into the kitchen. Ordinarily, she'd crouch and replace the bowl; Roy could easily hear her nudging the bowl back into it's proper home.

"Sir, you don't need to worry about Black Hayate. I will take care of him."

[combustang]

Roy smiles to himself when he hears the bowl drop. Hayate had tried his best to help it seems. Next time he'll have to check the dog for the bowl too.

"It's the least I can do," he insists, and he lifts the cover of the dog food container and scoops out some to dole into the dish. Hayate sounds like he's wiggling with excitement the moment the food hits the bottom of the dish. Roy finishes the task and stands, closing the cabinet and stepping aside so Hayate can dive head first into his meal. "The dog has done a lot for me lately. I wanted to do something for him, even if it's as simple as this."

Only simple things were a little more complicated for him now, and while he hadn't voiced it yet, Roy didn't mind or even desired the chance to do ordinary tasks and prove he was still capable.

"You were very fast in the shower, I thought you were going to try relaxing for a moment," he notes. How long had the water been running? Less than ten minutes? Nothing like the easygoing relaxation the doctor had ordered for her.

[equinamity]

"Well, he was happy to have the food a few minutes earlier."

Riza stiffens when he mentions how briefly she'd been in the shower, initially surprised that he had kept track of how long she'd been out of the room--and then chastising herself for expecting anything else.

"Ah--yes," she murmured. There weren't a great many ways to explain that a shower was anything but relaxing and instead was a chore. It was difficult to clean her hair with one hand, seeing as she could neither move her neck nor lift her left arm. Not to mention that she wasn't to get the dressings wet. Or, if she chose to removing the dressings, the stitches beneath them. And standing for long periods of time was difficult still. And, and, and.

How could she explain herself? "...it was not relaxing."

Turning to the stove, Riza brought the kettle to the sink and filled it, ignoring that her hands shook as it grew heavy; when she placed it back on the stove it clattered unusually loudly and Hayate looked up from his dish, whining.

"Would you like some tea, sir?" She leaves the kettle to sit and rests her weight against the counter, arms crossed and studying Roy as she waits, silently appreciating that he couldn't see the fatigue on her features.

[combustang]

"Ah yes," Roy nods. "Yes." His second yes in response to the offer of tea. The other his subtle realization that her injuries would make it difficult to bathe. (He's smart enough not to pursue that of all conversation topics.)

Had the sound of the kettle being moved always been this loud he wonders. He can feel Hayate coming up behind him and watching close by. It seems to have the dog concerned.

"If it's not too much trouble," Roy suggests. "Can I fetch anything? Is there enough water in the kettle?"

[equinamity]

(A very wise decision, she would tell him. If she knew he'd chosen not to pursue that line of conversation--which would ruin his plan to keep such thoughts to himself.)

Hayate pads closer to her and whines again, licking a few drops of water from the floor. Ordinarily she didn't approve of such behavior, but she appreciated the lack of an additional chore.

"No sir. The kettle is plenty full." While never considering herself short, Riza wasn't tall either, and she hadn't considered this any sort of issue until this precise moment while she tried to reach for the mugs stored on the second shelf of the upper cabinets.

"It's not trouble. It's rather cold--" The sharp pain that cut through her shoulder and neck froze her mid stretch, catching her breath. She turned back to Roy, lowering her hand. "I can't reach the cups."

[combustang]

He hears the sharp hitch in her breath when she reaches for the mugs and he's secretly relieved the moment she asks for his help. Roy had realized just how much he relied on his eyes to read others, and Riza in particular was subtle in her expressions. He couldn't be sure how much he'd perceive with his other senses and this was troubling when he was determined to look after her during their recovery.

He steps forward and reaches out to feel for the height of the cabinets. He touches the one next to where the mugs are kept and slides his hand across to find the other cabinet. "This one?" He might has well ask her as he opens it rather than poke at glasses or dishes and risk tipping them off balance.

[equinamity]

"Please."

Easing back from the cabinet, she rests a hand on the dressing on her shoulder. "On the second shelf, sir. Careful not to hurt your hand."

As he reaches for the cups, she takes a canister from the counter and takes two teabags out, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Turning off the burner, she hesitates before touching his wrist while his hands linger near the counter, a small frown on her face. After she'd nearly dropped the kettle, she didn't think it wise to attempt pouring boiling water.

[combustang]

Roy finds the handles of two mugs and after wrapping his fingers around their cool ceramic handles he confidently removes them from the cabinet and sets them gently on the counter. One small victory, which he'll gladly take.

He's surprised to feel her warm fingers on his wrist a moment later. Regardless of how often she was poking and guiding him lately it still felt like a big deal whenever they made any type of physical contact however small. He hadn't told her this; it's actually embarrassing that he makes such a big deal out of it. He isn't a young teen, at that age when it's normal to sweat over the notion of holding hands with the person one likes. How silly it is to be a grown man and make a fuss out it.

He looks in her direction, hands still, waiting for her instruction or guidance. "Is it the kettle?" he guesses, the next natural step in the process.

[equinamity]

Embarrassment brings a flush to her cheeks and she's relieved Roy can't see, and subsequently poke fun of, it. She was intended to be his bodyguard--just who would be protecting whom in an instance where she couldn't even lift something so light? "Yes, sir. It's heavy."

Not wanting him to burn his fingers on the stove by feeling for the kettle, she wraps her hand around his wrist and guides him to the handle. Day after day there are so many tasks that require their combined efforts, his strength and her eyes. Riza can't say she minds it, though, as she stands unusually close to her commanding officer her heart tends to beat erratically. It's probably still related to blood loss, similar to the residual weakness and fatigue. She isn't a child anymore, anyway, and such a reaction was saved for teens who can't keep their emotions in check.

She allows her hand to rest over his, palm over the dressing that covered the puncture wound from Wrath. "Thank you, sir."

[combustang]

He closes his fingers around the handle and slowly lifts it. He puts his other hand on the counter just to make sure he knows where the surface is he intends to put the kettle down on. He goes about it with steady control, listening and feeling for any sign from her that he was mistaken in his actions. Having an assuring hand following his eliminates any worry though.

"We're putting in extra hours of team building exercises, aren't we Lieutenant?" he jokes.