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Title; Misunderstood
Rating; PG
Fandom; Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters; Riza Hawkeye & Zolf. J. Kimblee
Summary; An outside perspective is blind to unpleasantries.
Wordcount; 559
The old woman sat just inside her apartment door, always propped open so she could see into the hallway. It wasn't because she was nosy, heavens no, but she liked the breeze that came into the room from the hallway.
And if the old woman noticed when the young blonde moved in just down the hall, well. It wasn't because she had been looking to notice.
It was perhaps a week, no, more like eight days- not that she had counted- when the flowers had started showing up. Beautiful red rose blossoms, they were. Sometimes still with the dew on them. Not that she had looked. You could see the water glint off the lights in the hall from her chair just inside the door, you see.
The old woman had sighed, when the young blonde had returned from a walk and dropped her umbrella in surprise. Oh- to be young and in love. How sweet! It had been so many years since she'd gotten flowers from some young gentleman.
But she'd been surprised when after a few days of the roses tucked into her door, the young woman had stopped picking them out of her door and disappearing, and instead tossing them carelessly on the ground. Why, young lady? Someone is in love with you! She had ventured out into the hall, creaked along on old bones to collect one of the discarded blossoms. Oh- how sad! She'd stepped on it.
The old woman was confused that she never saw the young man deliver the flowers. But she supposed it must be after she'd gone to bed, or when she was out taking her brief walk to get the newspaper. Tall, dark, and handsome, that's what girls went for, wasn't it? The old woman imagined a man for the young blonde, courteous and kind, tall, and dark as the girl was blonde. And decided to see if she could spot him.
He was tall, dark, and - oh my, so very handsome. He'd stopped by, the gentleman, and asked her, so nicely too, if she would mind giving the young blonde a bouquet, he didn't know how to get it to sit nicely outside her door without getting stepped on, and if it wasn't too much trouble, he would appreciate it oh so much.
The old woman wished she was fifty years younger and that she was the young lady this man was courting. How kind and thoughtful of him. But of course she would give the lady his flowers, and pass along a message. Of course. Have a nice day, young man!
So the old woman hobbled quickly out when she heard the young lady come up the stairs, and had met her with the key in the door. Young miss! I have a message from your young gentleman- you really are lucky, you know, he's quite something- oh, silly me, these are for you. Handed over the bouquet of red roses, with little flecks of white flowers in between- what were those called anyhow- they were beautiful anyhow.
And the young lady's face fell into a look of betrayal and shock- now why would that be? What's the matter, young miss?
The old woman walked back to her apartment slowly, and sat heavily down in her chair. The young blonde's response- so curious!
"You don't understand."
Rating; PG
Fandom; Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters; Riza Hawkeye & Zolf. J. Kimblee
Summary; An outside perspective is blind to unpleasantries.
Wordcount; 559
The old woman sat just inside her apartment door, always propped open so she could see into the hallway. It wasn't because she was nosy, heavens no, but she liked the breeze that came into the room from the hallway.
And if the old woman noticed when the young blonde moved in just down the hall, well. It wasn't because she had been looking to notice.
It was perhaps a week, no, more like eight days- not that she had counted- when the flowers had started showing up. Beautiful red rose blossoms, they were. Sometimes still with the dew on them. Not that she had looked. You could see the water glint off the lights in the hall from her chair just inside the door, you see.
The old woman had sighed, when the young blonde had returned from a walk and dropped her umbrella in surprise. Oh- to be young and in love. How sweet! It had been so many years since she'd gotten flowers from some young gentleman.
But she'd been surprised when after a few days of the roses tucked into her door, the young woman had stopped picking them out of her door and disappearing, and instead tossing them carelessly on the ground. Why, young lady? Someone is in love with you! She had ventured out into the hall, creaked along on old bones to collect one of the discarded blossoms. Oh- how sad! She'd stepped on it.
The old woman was confused that she never saw the young man deliver the flowers. But she supposed it must be after she'd gone to bed, or when she was out taking her brief walk to get the newspaper. Tall, dark, and handsome, that's what girls went for, wasn't it? The old woman imagined a man for the young blonde, courteous and kind, tall, and dark as the girl was blonde. And decided to see if she could spot him.
He was tall, dark, and - oh my, so very handsome. He'd stopped by, the gentleman, and asked her, so nicely too, if she would mind giving the young blonde a bouquet, he didn't know how to get it to sit nicely outside her door without getting stepped on, and if it wasn't too much trouble, he would appreciate it oh so much.
The old woman wished she was fifty years younger and that she was the young lady this man was courting. How kind and thoughtful of him. But of course she would give the lady his flowers, and pass along a message. Of course. Have a nice day, young man!
So the old woman hobbled quickly out when she heard the young lady come up the stairs, and had met her with the key in the door. Young miss! I have a message from your young gentleman- you really are lucky, you know, he's quite something- oh, silly me, these are for you. Handed over the bouquet of red roses, with little flecks of white flowers in between- what were those called anyhow- they were beautiful anyhow.
And the young lady's face fell into a look of betrayal and shock- now why would that be? What's the matter, young miss?
The old woman walked back to her apartment slowly, and sat heavily down in her chair. The young blonde's response- so curious!
"You don't understand."
