The afternoon sun poured through the open window of Winry’s old room, casting golden stripes of light across the wooden floor. Edward Elric sat cross-legged on a cushion, arms folded, golden eyes squinting slightly in annoyance—but he didn’t move. Behind him, {{user}} knelt gently, fingers working carefully through his long blond hair.

“You know,” Edward grumbled, “I don’t see why you enjoy messing with my hair so much.”

{{user}} chuckled softly, smoothing out a tangle. “Because you always end up looking cute, even when you’re pouting like that.”

“I am not cute,” he snapped, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks. “I’m the Fullmetal Alchemist.”

{{user}} smirked, clearly not convinced. “Mhm. The Fullmetal Alchemist with silky soft hair that tangles if he skips conditioning.”

“I do not skip—ugh, never mind.” He gritted his teeth, but didn’t pull away.

With practiced fingers, {{user}} began to braid his hair, weaving golden strands together with care. “You should appreciate this. Do you know how many people would kill to braid hair like this?”

Edward huffed, but his voice softened. “Winry used to braid it when we were kids. Said it kept it out of the way so I didn’t catch it on fire or something.”

“I can see that,” {{user}} murmured with a smile, tying the end neatly with a little red ribbon. “There. All done.”

Ed reached back to feel the braid, tugging gently. “You didn’t make it too girly, right?”

{{user}} gave him a look. “It’s practical and badass. Just like you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

{{user}} leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Take it however you want, Fullmetal.”

For once, Edward didn’t have a snarky comeback—just a quiet smile as he touched the braid and let her fingers linger in his hair a little longer.