I kept my face turned to the side, staring at the same spot as before. The corner of the window, where the frame met the beginning of the curtains.

"Is this good?" I asked, my eyes looking in Ed's direction.

"Yeah, good enough, I guess." The alchemist grumbled. I smiled, and instantly heard his voice again. "Yeah, stay like that!"

I held my confusion away from my face, continuing to keep the same smile. I hoped this wouldn't take him very long. I could hear his pen making small strokes against the paper. The sound was almost comforting...

Al giggled a little from his spot on the kitchen's bar stool. To my surprise, Ed ignored him, continuing to focus. I wish I could see his face, or respond to Al... I could only keep staring at this one side of the room, this corner of the window... The darkness visible from the window wasn't really helping. Memories started flashing, a tightness slowly constricting my chest. I tried to breathe, and soon enough the smile dropped from my face.

The movements of Ed's pen stopped.

"Something wrong?" he asked me softly.

I did the worst thing a model could do; I broke my position, looking down. "Um, yeah." I tried to smile at him. "Can we take a break for a few minutes? My neck is getting a little sore."

Ed nodded. "Sure."

I tried to smile again in response, the expression faltering almost immediately. "Sorry." I raised a hand to the back of my head, smiling at my own foolishness this time.

"Don't worry about it." Ed told me. He looked away, stare going to the coffee table between us. We were separated between the table lengthwise; him sitting on an arm chair and myself taking up a small part of the loveseat.

"There's a menu for room service." Ed continued, bringing my stare to the piece of paper on the table. "If you're hungry."

"Oh, no." The words were automatic, conflicting the ache in my stomach. "I couldn't intrude like that!" My stomach, however, had to speak for itself; it growled loudly, the sound spiraling down and leaving me embarrassed.

Ed just grinned. "Dinner's on me then!"

I looked up from my bowl of noodles, stare traveling to Al, who was still sitting by the kitchen.

"Aren't you going to have something to eat, Al?" I asked him. "There's so much food here..."

"Oh, no!" Al held up one of the hands that was in his lap. "I can't eat, actually! I'm doing some very intense Alchemy training. Fasting's part of it!"

I vaguely caught the alarm in Ed's face drop away. He turned back to the chicken thigh in his hand, ripping a part of it into his mouth. I looked back down to my ramen, pushing the noodles around with my chopsticks. I laughed for a moment, pinching the sticks together and apart. "These things sure are strange! I read this is a dish that came from Xing."

"Yeah," Ed replied, leaning back, "Somewhere from the East side."

"I've always been fascinated with that country." My sticks picked up a few noodles, holding them away from the broth they were in. "Always wanted to go."

I looked up from my bowl, noticing Ed giving me that smile again. The small one I couldn't read... He looked down, eyes closing for a moment as he tossed the now meatless chicken wing. The bone landed on top of all the other ones he had stripped bare.

"Let me know when you're done eating." he said, putting his head back and keeping his feet on the coffee table. He relaxed a bit deeper into the chair, getting comfortable. "I'll finish that drawing..."

I smiled, wanting to tell him that we didn't have to keep going. But the sketch was important to him, for whatever competitive reasons he had. I turned back to my noodles, guiding them through my lips as quietly as I could.

"Al? Adjust her hair, would you?"

"Right." Al stepped forward, guiding a strand until it fell over my shoulder, draping past my chest and curling in front of my stomach. My hair was mostly straight, until the very tips. Then they looped in nearly full circles. It used to drive me nuts, the look of it... I'd prefer to have my hair completely straight if I could; more manageable, less noticeable...

"Perfect." Ed responded, focusing on his drawing again. I felt my fatigue reach beneath my eyes. What time was it?

I forced the question away, keeping my eyes wide. Ed kept sketching, the strokes of his pen becoming a little bit longer. Drawing my hair now, probably. I was glad the pen was more or less the right color, if not a little midnight blue. My hair was more obsidian, but I guess I couldn't change the ink Ed was using now.

I smiled a little more to myself. When was the last time I had been this interested in art?

Before he left. The thought wiped the smile off my face. Ed noticed again. He called my name softly, a wave of concern inside that single word.

I picked my lips up again, moving them into that same smile. I was fine; no need to worry, Ed.

I felt his stare on me before his eyes dropped away. He kept sketching, and once again I fell into the comfort of the sound. I didn't focus much on the act of drawing itself, but more so of the fact that he was doing it. Drawing with his human hand; his left one. I couldn't help but think of his automail. Wondering how hard that must be for him. To lose a body part like that...

I kept myself inside my own head until I noticed the sound of the pen had stopped. I resisted the urge to turn and look, instead waiting until Ed's tired voice reached my ears.

"I think it's done..."

I moved my head, feeling the muscles in my neck protest. "You're finished?"

He nodded, still focusing on the sketchbook in his lap. He held the pen between two fingers near his face, expression focused. I recognized it well; he wasn't sure what to make of his own work.

Al got up from his spot near me, quickly walking over to look behind his brother's shoulder. The teen in the suit bent down, and I couldn't help but notice their differences in size and width. I mean, Ed wasn't exactly very short, but Al was just BIG. How could a younger brother be so much bigger?

"Wow..." Al's voice echoed from inside his suit. "Brother, it's..."

Ed placed the pen in between his teeth, scowling at the drawing. "Still not good enough!" he finished.

Al retracted his head back, surprised. "What're you saying? It's amazing!"

Ed shook his head, hand going towards the page as if he was going to rip it out. "I didn't capture her right—"

Al caught his wrist, his reply flustered. "No! It's perfect, what are you talking about?"

"What are YOU talking about?" Ed echoed back, irritated as he looked to his brother. "I totally got her face wrong!"

"It looks fine!" Al turned to me, calling my name. "This drawing looks great, right?"

I stood up, feeling my knees ache a little. My left one, especially, since it had been supporting the other leg crossed on top of it. Ed saw the light flash of discomfort in my face, a tinge of guilt reaching his mouth. Curving it down.

"I'm alright." I assured him with a smile. He didn't smile back, instead turning down to the drawing as I came to stand beside him.

Cautiously, his hand tilted, shifting enough so I could see his work. I stared, not even blinking. This surpassed even some of my best sketches when I was at my peak. The details, the shading, the proportions... He'd captured everything just right!

The portrait was suddenly turned away from me. Ed's hand had grabbed the base of the paper, and terror shrieked through me as he began tearing the page out. "Still not good enough."

"No, Ed!" I caught his hand with both of mine, feeling his body tense. "It's perfect! I couldn't even draw something this good."

Ed didn't respond. I looked behind myself, seeing him stare at the drawing. The focus that was in his eyes; that determination. Something in my stomach turned, an excited chill fluttering through.

His golden eyes flicked up, meeting my dark ones. His stare came back to the drawing every now and then, comparing real life to his art. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

"I still didn't capture it right."

Al and I both sighed. I shifted, sitting on the front edge of the arm chair. My legs remained crossed as I stretched them out, extending the muscles I had kept in pose for so long. My hands were still holding Ed's, and even though this made me a little embarrassed I kept them there. Anything to keep him from tearing up that drawing he had slaved over. That wasn't even a work of art; it was a work of pure talent.

"What were you looking to capture?" I asked him, but he just shook his head.

I squeezed his hand, gently making my hold a little firmer. "Please don't rip it up." I told him. "No artist likes their own art, trust me."

"Yeah." he tsked quietly, and I could sense the extra words in his head. Things he wasn't saying.

"You... You can keep trying..." I told him. "Until this whole thing is done. If you want to."

"I'm... Not sure I could capture it..." He looked back down at the drawing again, the pointer finger of his left hand between two previous pages.

"It wouldn't hurt to try again." I said, looking at him. "Just promise me you won't tear it up."

He nodded, the determination in his face again. "Promise." he replied quietly.

"Alright, good." I released my hands from his, the warmth leaving me. I stepped away from the armchair, legs still a little stiff as I walked away. My arms stretched as I spoke through my small yawn. "I'm gonna go get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah." Ed responded.

I turned to him, giving a smile he wasn't looking up to see.

"Ed."

Almost like he was forcing himself to, he looked away from the drawing, eyes meeting mine. I smiled a little more, heat tinging my cheeks.

"That drawing's incredible. Don't doubt yourself."

I saw a similar shade of pink touch his own face. He didn't respond right away, blinking once before looking back to my sketchbook.

"Thanks." he got out, stuttering a little. "You're, um, you're a pretty good model."

I raised a hand to the back of my head and tried to evade the compliment with a smile. "Well with so many breaks, it was a surprise you finished at all!"

This time, Ed turned to me, a small smile on his face.

"Don't doubt yourself." he told me.

It was my turn to smile, the blush on my face deepening in color.