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They were completely circumspect. No one could fault them for that, particularly for their military relationship to one another – commander and subordinate. Alphonse listened to gossip around the cafeterias where his brother ate. He knew all too well that there were others who took advantage of such situations. Anything untoward was absent from them, from First Lieutenant Hawkeye’s stern expression and deadpan voice, to Colonel Mustang’s ability to treat her as he did the others under his command.
Still, it was obvious to Alphonse, even before that night beneath Lab Three, where First Lieutenant Hawkeye had broken down at the thought of the colonel’s death. The looks that they exchanged, from briefest glance to lingering gaze, all told a story the military regulations would do more than frown upon. No matter what strictures their roles as placed on them, the military masks they wore couldn’t compete with the heat in their eyes.