Perfect

Things inside Colonel Roy Mustang's office were slowly starting too cool off as the end of the day draws nearer. Roy's work was far from over but his mind was wondering not-so-far away.

While pretending to sign some papers, his eyes meandered to his first lieutenant's face. The sun's rays reflected magnificently on her face. It was as if she was bathed in exquisite light. His eyes trailed lower and have found her peach lips. My god, Roy thought, I sound like a fuckin' high school teenage girl!

"Hey Chief!" Havoc said as he walked towards him.

"Oh goddamnit! What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?!" Roy answered rather irritably and a bit louder than intended.

Riza snapped her head towards the pair and gave them her well known 'death glare'.

"Tch. Yeah right, busy what? Scribbling nonsensical things and gawking at Hawkeye?" Havoc mumbled.

"What?!"Roy hissed.

"Nothing. I just came to say that we're going home." He answered as he smiled innocently with a cigar dangling between his teeth.

Roy glared at him for a bit before allowing them to go. With a small 'click' the door closed behind the group. Finally, alone with Riza, he thought. Sighing inwardly, he walked towards Riza's desk and bent a bit so that he can have a clearer view of her face. He cupped her face with both of his hands pushing her cheeks together. At that, Riza raised one of her eyebrows and gave her superior another shot of 'death glare'.

"Permission to speak freely, sir." Riza requested.

"Mmm…" Roy grunted in reply.

"Excuse me sir, but what exactly are you doing to my face?!" She grumbled. It's quite hard to speak in her state.

"Shush and be still Ri–Hawkeye. That's an order." He said as his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Honestly, sir…" She whispered.  Her eyebrows furrowed even further.

Roy tilted her head up a bit and turned it side-to-side. She was about to grab her guns when Roy spoke again.

"Yup, it's perfect." He said as he smiled victoriously as if he was a pirate who found a rare treasure of some sort.

"What's perfect sir? And could you please let go of my face now?" She asked, half–curious, half–annoyed. She tried to budge but he wouldn't let go of her face.

His smile turned into a smirk as he inched closer and replied, "Your lips, Hawkeye. Your lips are perfect."

"M–my lips? Perfect for what?" she said as the faintest shade of pink painted her cheeks.

Roy edged closer until their faces were a mere centimeters apart.
"For mine." He whispered as he closed the gap between them.

Electricity ran through his spine at the slightest touch of their lips. It took her a little while to respond; and when she did, only two words could describe their feelings: cloud nine.

Yup. Roy thought, her lips–no, she's really perfect.