Leave A Scar

We stopped for ice cream, on the way out of town. And I did my best to smile, as a treat-filled cone and spoon were handed to me. Practical, sweet. I could do this.

I tried to breathe right, when we sat down. Ed with his triple scoop and me with my single. Raspberry, one for both of us.

Ed grinned at me, pink tinting his cheeks. I smiled enough for my eyes to curve, enough to hide away in that darkness for a moment or two. Stabilize a wall, keep it from fracturing.

Just breathe. Just keep breathing. Talk about something worthwhile.

"So..." my fingertips drummed one-by-one against table. "Nice weather, right?"

Ed nearly choked, a muffled sneeze-like sound coming to him. He smiled, muting his laughter as he looked to me. "You okay," he asked, and once again my name shot pain into my heart.

"Y-yeah," I waved a hand ferociously, fast enough to blur. "I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

My voice went up a few octaves, fingers pulling back and protruding my palm as if I wanted to strike him with it.

Ed just nodded, tongue ŀȧpping up a side of his cone, where ice cream had drooled. I swallowed my own spit, carefully digging into my dessert, twisting and pushing in the same motion. It was an intricate process, one that took me into an almost meditative state. Just act normal. Act like you're not breaking down.

But it was hard. Harder than I expected, to push myself without anyone noticing. Al was reading at a table close by, and I tried to focus on him. Tried to eat what he couldn't.

I tried, and like every time before, eventually I succeeded.

Days came and went, time passed in between hands of cards and naps until the sun set and we settled down for the night in an inn. When two rooms were forced to one, Ed would always offer the bed to me, resorting to sleep on the couch. Al would usually stay up, pouring over Alchemy and theory books just as much as the lamplight poured onto him.

It was a cycle I got used to. I found myself laughing more, able to fake higher pitches and bigger smiles. Able to stretch the silences on for another moment or two.

He stayed laughing or staring, a kind gaze that usually drifted down, that soft smile placed upon his face.

I tried not to notice how a blush usually touched his face as well.

Sometimes a wall would break; a slight crack snapping into the structure. My own thoughts or Ed pulling up a childhood memory between the three of us the source of the fractures. The memories, thankfully, were rare, and I was able to hide away in smiles and nods whenever they were mentioned.

Fragments of an old life.

There was a part of me that couldn't help but wonder... If he saw me in such kindness, such careful nostalgia, what did he think of me now? What did he consider me to be?

It was an answer I knew all too well.

Nothing... that's all I was. Just an empty shell of a person. A fragment of who I used to be.

No; not even a fragment. An inverted, microscopic cell of who I once was. A twisted smile of an avoided reflection.

I was the best liar I knew.