Dislaimer: Does not belong to me. Takes place pre-series. Title comes from Alfred Lord Tennyson.

(winter is for regret)

when the first snow falls, they are (almost) friends.

x

"What are you doing?" Riza asks, thick mittens covering up a small laugh.

"Making a snowman, obviously."

The reply is immune from embarrassment, and in fact, Roy even dares to give her a cheeky grin. She raises an eyebrow in response.

"It's... unique." Which is as diplomatic a word as any that Riza can come up with for something that looks closer to a mutilated platypus than to any snowman she has ever seen.

"Well, we don't get a lot of snow in Central, so you know," he shrugs "Still, I don't think its too bad for a first try."

Her eyebrow shoots up higher.

"Of course if you're going to critique, you could always show me how its properly done."

His grin flashes even brighter while he says that, and she swears that he almost appears sincere.

(but you shouldn't trust boys, her father mutters, especially smart ones, and her back itches and bites where vibrant ink runs, while her father coughs indoors with blood as bright as the salamander she can't see)

"Perhaps next time, Mr. Mustang."

But when she is back inside that (almost) empty house, she can't help but to sneak glances out the window towards Roy, still diligently working on the failed snowman, and to wonder if maybe it wouldn't have hurt if she had made an exception for him.

A/N: So my crazy life has given me a small break, and well, this was a plot-bunny that refused to be ignored! Hope it came out ok, and as always, constructive criticism is very much welcomed :)