A tremor started deep within him, working his body outwards to his limbs. Was this how Riza had felt the first time she had bared her back for him? Roy hadn't felt like this since the second time he had even taken his clothes off for a woman. That fear had been birthed by his first terrible experience.
To this day, Roy remembered sitting in the hospital crying on his aunt's shoulder after the beating he had taken - and dished out - because Amanda Byrnes had set him up. He'd been naked, an anxious virgin sitting on Amanda's bed when her friends burst into the room, mocking the half-breed before the fists flew. He'd expected the same on his second attempt to lose his virginity, but the fear and humiliation faded somewhat when that ended happily.
He gazed up into Riza's warm honey-brown eyes, not sure why anxiety was rearing its head now, as hard to kill as a homunculus. Of course, they hadn't seen each other's nude bodies in so long. He was so scarred now: the angry drifts of melted tissue over his abdomen, the lengthy stretches of red on both hands. He was no longer the handsome golden boy. Making her look at what the war with Father had done to him made his heart race with fear. What if he repulsed her? Worse, what if he looked at the scar cutting across her neck, and lost himself in the memories of her nearly dying for him?
Riza hadn't seen his body since he'd burnt himself. They had only brief moments together once he had healed enough for any rigorous interpersonal relations; stolen moments, clothes half on, hidden in dark places before she had to go back to Bradley where his foolishness exiled her. She deserved better than him with his scars, his guilt, and a head full of bad memories and that thought made his heart hammer. Soldier's heart, Roy had heard whispers of it when he had been in Ishval, knew he suffered from it the first time he woke up screaming after the war. He just never expected its appearance at a time like this.
"You have on too many clothes," Riza said, her voice whiskey-kissed as she yanked his shirt off, baring his scars.
Bowling him back against the mattress, Riza kissed her way down his torso, not even hesitating to go over the minefield of scars. Sitting back, she took off her own shirt, her long hair half hiding the scar on her neck. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world. Roy caressed her breast, his hand still shaking a little, but he could feel the fear lifting.
His heart overrode those qualms. She would always love him, and he her, no matter what. He'd be a fool to think otherwise.