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Amestris was cold, iced over in ways that chilled Ling to the bone and made him ache for something, anything. A gnawing thing deep in his chest, a wanting for something he never had, never knew— was it love or affection?
His marrow hurt, joints creaking in complaint when he moved too fast. The fog that had fallen thick overnight was still, flooding the garden and pastures like clouds. Ling watched it warily, the frost panelling the kitchen widow spiraling out in shapes that reminded him of alchemy. The coffee cup he drummed his fingers against was chilled, too.
He didn't even like coffee.
He was mindlessly drinking it, an attempt to fill some part of himself that had hollowed out overnight. It was warm, and burned a brand down his throat and stomach; distracting. That was, at least, until it had cooled to some lukewarm sludge, and Ling cast it a mildly disgusted glance. He finally set the mug down with a weary sigh, moving to scrub a hand at his face.
He was exhausted for no reason, and it hurt in a way he didn't recognize. Something dull in his mind, thickening over him like the fog fell across the grass outside. Grey. Tea didn't help, coffee barely did— he was just… tired, and cold, and tired.
Ling was tempted to go back to bed; it was still early enough, and the sun was only just blooming in orange and pink. Except the idea of waking Ed or Winry up made something sour in his throat, and he felt a frown pull his lips down. He took another sip of the coffee. It tasted just as bad cold, and the sugar stuck to the roof of his mouth and in between his teeth.
He shifted, flipping his dark hair over a shoulder and twining the end round a finger. Stretched a leg out, grit his teeth when it cracked in angry protest. Stared at the ceiling and prayed to God that someone would wake up soon. The silence was a black hole around him and Ling hated nothing more than his own thoughts at times like these.
Silence was too loud nowadays. It would be funny if it wasn't the truth— silence meant he was alone. There was no mocking voice to fill the void in his mind, no gentle purr of automail to keep him in the present, the clink of metal and wrench and oil something for the night, not the morning. Maybe he just missed Greed. He did miss Greed.
Ling yawned, not bothering to hide it behind his palm, and leaned his head back. Something in his neck popped and he grimaced, his already present headache making itself ever more obvious.
He stretched his arms far above his head, yawning again and leaning onto the back legs of the old, wooden chair. There was a bird tweeting somewhere, a melodic noise that Ling wanted to be annoyed at but couldn't bring himself to be.
He let his eyes fall shut, trying to force himself to relax more until—
"What're you doing up all alone?"
Ling jolted, nearly falling backwards in his chair as a warm voice laughed behind him. "Did I scare you?" Ed teased, walking into the view for a moment to press a kiss to Ling's temple.
He felt his face flush for a moment before he stammered a reply, still caught off guard. "No, just didn't know you'd be awake so early." He blinked up at the man, watching as Ed averted his gaze with a small cough.
"Eh— Winry started kicking in her sleep again, figured that was as good a sign as any to get my ass up for the day." Ling snorted, watching with bemusement as Ed waved an aggravated hand, turning towards the stove. "Did you already eat?"
"Nah, I wanted to wait for you guys." Ed raised a brow in mock surprise, a teasing look on his face.
"The great Ling Yao, waiting to eat? This must be a miracle!" The cold that had krept into Ling's body quickly vanished, and he grinned sheepishly.
"What can I say— guess you're both special," Ed snorted, before pulling a pan out. "Can we have eggs?"
"Of course." Ed huffed, moving to root around in the fridge for a moment. "Not like I can cook anything else, honestly."
"You're better than me, at least." Ling had the wonderful ability to scald water, something he learned the hard way the last time he had attempted to steam dumplings. Winry made it very apparent that he was now and forever demoted to sitting on the counter and pointing at what she or Ed needed to do.
"True, true." He stood up with the carton, balancing creamer precariously on tip of it and eyeing the coffee maker with trepidation. "Hopefully I don't burn the shit out of myself today. Might be a new record."
A laugh bubbled in Ling's throat, "Don't jinx yourself."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He laughed again, and watched as Ed shuffled around the kitchen. Oil popped on the stove, and his automail leg scratched lightly against the tiling of the floor as he shifted his weight. There was something comforting about his stance— Ling knew he was warm and safe; loving.
It wasn't long before their small breakfast was done, and Ed managed to set two plates up. He tempted fate, carrying a mug of his own coffee in the crease of his elbow. There was only enough for the two of them, and Ling tilted his head.
"Is Winry waking up anytime soon?" Their girlfriend had stayed up late into the night, hunched over jargon and pieces that made Ling's head hurt more than it typically did.
"No way, she's out like light." Ed shook his head, quirkng his lips. "We can just make her something when she finally gets up." He moved to set the plates before pausing."You hate coffee," He questioned, eyeing the mug for a minute before handing Ling's breakfast over and sitting down with his own. "Why're you drinking it? You always say it gives you a headache."
Ling shrugged, rubbing the back of his head with a small laugh. "Nothing crazy, just tired this morning for some reason." He meant to continue, before picking his fork up and immediately forgetting his next sentence in favor of breakfast.
Ed chuffed, smiling fondly as he watched Ling eat. It was quiet for some time, the only noise the clink of silverware against porcelain. A better quiet than before by far, something comforting instead of stilted.
Ed eventually sighed, glancing outside and frowning when he saw the frost still stubbornly clinging to the glass. "The cold is bothering you too, huh?"
Ling blinked, fork held in midair. "How could you tell?" Ed gave him a fond look, before pointing at his long abandoned drink.
"I do the same thing. The caffeine helps the ache if it isn't too bad." Ling blinked again, before nodding slowly.
"Yeah; it warms you up, too."
" Exactly." Ed hummed in agreement, before pausing to think something over. "A warm bath or shower might be best, though. I'm sure you'd like that over some watered down beans anyway."
"Maybe," he shrugged, leaning back. "Figured I'd just get used to it after a while." Ed rolled his eyes and flicked a piece of bread at him. "Hey!"
"Whatever—" he seemed bemused at Ling's indignation, "there's nothing wrong with having a bad day or two, or three." Ed cut himself off there, "You and Winry have seen me through plenty. Let me return the favor." Ling opened his mouth to bicker, but Ed flicked another piece of bread at him and he ducked instead. "Now, do you want some tea? Coffee kinda sucks, anyway."
Gold eyes stared the prince down and he deflated, giving into himself for a moment. "Fine. Fine, can I have some tea?"
"And then a warm bath?"
"... And then a warm bath."