better left unsaid, FMA (Lan Fan/Ling)
Title: better left unsaid Author/Artist: scathachdhu Rating: PG Warnings: none Word count: ~430 Prompt: Fullmetal Alchemist - Lan Fan/Ling - unresolved sexual tension - the need to be quiet A/N: I apologize for this being late--I've had a lot on my plate these days.
"Let's go to the river," he said as he reclined on the branch below her, one leg dangling. "I feel like swimming today."
"Yes, Young Master," she replied, preparing to drop to the ground.
***
He paused in his training, wiping sweat from his brow. "Has my uncle returned?"
"Earlier today."
"Let's go see him then," he said, sheathing his swords. "After I wash up."
"Yes, Young Master," she replied, inclining her head.
***
"It is late," she said, slipping behind him in the dark of the palace hallway. "Are you unable to sleep?"
"Eh, I was just hungry," he grinned, scratching the side of his head. "I was going to see if I could find anything in the kitchens."
"Very well," she replied, falling to his side and a step behind.
"Lan Fan," he began.
"Yes--" she broke off as he spun, silently backing her into an unused alcove. There was just enough starlight to make out his intent expression as he slipped the mask off her face.
She was no child; she knew full well the source of the heat in his eyes. "...as you wish, Young Master," she whispered.
"And what do you wish?" he asked, his voice low as he let his fingers toy with a lock of her hair.
She closed her eyes. "It is not my place," she murmured, "to--" She paused, swallowing as his fingers brushed her ear. "I wish to serve you, to protect you, to aid you in reaching your goals. Any wishes beyond that...would be inappropriate for a servant. No--no matter how--" She clamped her mouth shut, horrified at her lapse.
Bad enough to have such thoughts in the first place--that he now knew they existed was unforgivable.
Her eyes flew open as he laid a warm hand on the side of her face. "I'm sorry," he told her, his face as blank as he could make it. "That was selfish of me."
She inhaled. "Young Master, you should not apologize--"
"Stop," he said, his voice low. "Let's just go back." He paused, then bent his head, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to the bridge of her nose. Before she could react, he'd swung around, turning towards his quarters.
Trembling, Lan Fan knelt to retrieve the mask from where it had fallen on the floor. She pulled it back on over wide, stinging eyes, not for the first time thankful for its concealment. There would be time enough to indulge her weakness later, when she was alone.