Title: A Slave to Addiction
Word Count: 499
Characters: Roy, Havoc
A/N: Originally written for prompt 63-Weakness on FMA Fic Contest
It was torture, pure and simple. The enemy was trying to break him, and he didn't think he'd be able to last much longer. His resolve was barely hanging by a thread, and the fibers were unraveling, threatening to break at any moment.
A pained groan escaped his lips when his eyes landed on a small, rectangular object sitting on the desk across from him. How dare the Colonel taunt him by placing his own cigarettes right in plain sight!
"Is something the matter, Havoc?" Roy asked, doing his best to restrain a smug grin.
"No sir. Nothing at all," the disgruntled Lieutenant lied through gritted teeth. He wouldn't give his boss the satisfaction of knowing how horribly he was suffering.
"Then get back to work."
"Yes sir," Havoc complied and grudgingly tore his gaze away from the pack of cigarettes at which he'd been staring so longingly. He tried to focus on the stack of paperwork in front him, but his mind wouldn't allow him to concentrate on anything other than cigarettes. He was really beginning to wish that he had never allowed the Colonel to goad him into accepting such a ridiculous bet- a whole week without smoking. Havoc had initially laughed at the idea, but a week off from work in exchange for a week without smoking was far too tempting to pass up.
However, only two days in he was already beginning to feel the cruel and almost painful effects of withdrawal, and Mustang wasn't making it any easier for him. He could feel the Colonel's gaze on him, eyes alight with laughter as he watched his loyal subordinate's wall of defense gradually crumble into a pile of rubble. If he didn't do something soon to take his mind off cigarettes he would surely have a meltdown.
In a fit of frustration he slammed his pen onto his desk-nearly breaking the writing utensil-and leapt on to his feet.
"I'm taking a break!" he declared loudly and rushed out of the room before anyone had a chance to respond to his sudden outburst. He ran down to the cafeteria and grabbed a tray full of food, but the tasty morsels did little to alleviate his desire for his beloved cancer sticks. Feeling depressed, he trudged back to the office- his head hung low and shoulders slumped- only to discover it was empty. Suddenly, an idea struck him; the pack of cigarettes on the Colonel's desk was completely unguarded and there was nobody in the room. A sly grin crept onto his face. Surely the Colonel wouldn't notice if he took just one.
With a cigarette triumphantly in hand he lit up by an open window and puffed greedily, allowing the sweet, intoxicating scent to invade his senses until a loud "a-ha" resonated throughout the room. He knew he was caught and would now have to pay the price for his fragility, but it was definitely worth it for a few moments of pure and utter bliss.