"Eulogy" (Hughes and Elysia, Rated G)
Jun. 18th, 2005 04:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skellywagTitle: "Eulogy"
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
skellywag
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: None, really... (I know, it's quite a shock. I suppose you could stretch it to HughesxGracia if you're desperate for something though...)
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoiler for episode 25
A/N: Drabble written forcalintz in exchange for pretteh Hughes doodle-ness (which can be found here, if you be interested). Turned out a bit angstier than I had originally anticipated, but if there was no smut, then there had to be angst. *Grin* Enjoy!
“He loved watching her run around and play. That was more than obvious whenever he crowed about her newest accomplishment to whoever stood still long enough for him to seize hold of them and force them to walk with him wherever he was headed. Whenever Maes Hughes had gotten a new batch of pictures developed, all anyone in Central HQ would hear about was how big Elysia was getting, and what an artist she was, what a good cook, and how athletic.
“While all those things did matter to him, and they were the things he talked about, it was moments like this that meant the most. Lazy Sunday afternoons where Elysia, tired from playing with the abundance of toys her parents had bought for her, crawled onto the couch with Maes, who could be doing any number of important reports, or simply filling in the crossword in the newspaper, but always made room for her.
“No work he was doing was so important that he wouldn’t just lie down, his daughter stretched out on his chest, and let her take a nap. He liked the feel of her flutter of a heartbeat against the much slower, deeper lub dub of his own. The soft little breaths and occasional whimpers exhaled against his neck always made him smile. His hand would always rub along her back to soothe those whimpers away, and her little fingers would clench in his shirt, as if to assure herself that Daddy was there, even while she was sleeping.
“He never said so, however. Not in so many words. But every time I found them together, asleep on the couch, I knew. He was a wonderful husband, but he was made to be a father.”
~Fin
Author:
skellywagFandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: None, really... (I know, it's quite a shock. I suppose you could stretch it to HughesxGracia if you're desperate for something though...)
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoiler for episode 25
A/N: Drabble written for
calintz in exchange for pretteh Hughes doodle-ness (which can be found here, if you be interested). Turned out a bit angstier than I had originally anticipated, but if there was no smut, then there had to be angst. *Grin* Enjoy!“He loved watching her run around and play. That was more than obvious whenever he crowed about her newest accomplishment to whoever stood still long enough for him to seize hold of them and force them to walk with him wherever he was headed. Whenever Maes Hughes had gotten a new batch of pictures developed, all anyone in Central HQ would hear about was how big Elysia was getting, and what an artist she was, what a good cook, and how athletic.
“While all those things did matter to him, and they were the things he talked about, it was moments like this that meant the most. Lazy Sunday afternoons where Elysia, tired from playing with the abundance of toys her parents had bought for her, crawled onto the couch with Maes, who could be doing any number of important reports, or simply filling in the crossword in the newspaper, but always made room for her.
“No work he was doing was so important that he wouldn’t just lie down, his daughter stretched out on his chest, and let her take a nap. He liked the feel of her flutter of a heartbeat against the much slower, deeper lub dub of his own. The soft little breaths and occasional whimpers exhaled against his neck always made him smile. His hand would always rub along her back to soothe those whimpers away, and her little fingers would clench in his shirt, as if to assure herself that Daddy was there, even while she was sleeping.
“He never said so, however. Not in so many words. But every time I found them together, asleep on the couch, I knew. He was a wonderful husband, but he was made to be a father.”
~Fin
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no subject
on 2005-06-18 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-06-18 07:08 pm (UTC)OMG
on 2005-07-28 02:11 pm (UTC)