[It's rare for Eustace to sleep in, but like Tifa he was having the deepest, most comfortable sleep he's had in a while. He doesn't stir at the kiss, but he will start feeling the loss of warmth while she's lingering at the door. At first he doesn't think much of it, but when he shifts his arm and feels a a certain lack of someone, his eyes snap open and stares at the empty space next to him. Normally this wouldn't be a cause for alarm, but considering their talk and the thoughts he was having before falling asleep, a strange cold sense of panic seizes him, one that overshadows the cold air blowing through the open doors.
It's not... There's no way she could have...
He knows it's completely irrational and he's already trying to reason that Tifa likely had gotten up to use the bathroom or something, but the very idea that she could have suddenly left this world to return to hers continues to tear at him in a surprising way. It seems no matter how "prepared" he thought he was, the sudden sense of loss is still greater than he expects.
It's not until he quickly turns and sees her figure at the doors does he relax—though not before his breath catches in his throat. The sight of her bare, pale body illuminated by the sun's dawn rays, her long, black hair swaying from the gentle wind like a dark veil that does little to hide the dark red marks that stain her skin like petals. The serene, reflective gaze in her eyes as she stares outside, the dark red hues shining in the light to become more vibrant, more alive. He really isn't one to really care about one's physical appearances, but for the first time he's found someone whose curves make his eyes follow every inch and shadow, imprinting into memory as he can only think how beautiful she really is. And it's really not just her outer appearance, but her personality as well, that quiet serenity a sweet shadow over what he knows is someone who is cheerful, energetic, and kindhearted.
Yet even that is covering the sadness, pain, and loneliness that she carries, one that he might understand more than realizes.
Without thinking, he slowly and silently slips out of bed, draping a blanket over his shoulders before he silently walks over to come behind her. Whether she noticed or not he doesn't care—his arms around her, effectively wrapping them both in the blanket as he presses his lips against the back of her neck. Already he captures that sweet scent of hers that somehow drives him crazy, but right now it just makes him feel content.
At peace.]
Not thinking of running off again, are you?
[It's said in a low, slow drawl as he clearly teases her, but there is a bit of strength in his arms that wrap around her waist, as if ensuring she really isn't going anywhere. Perhaps it's because of his earlier "scare," but he really doesn't want to let her go right now.]
suggestive themes ahead 👀
It's not... There's no way she could have...
He knows it's completely irrational and he's already trying to reason that Tifa likely had gotten up to use the bathroom or something, but the very idea that she could have suddenly left this world to return to hers continues to tear at him in a surprising way. It seems no matter how "prepared" he thought he was, the sudden sense of loss is still greater than he expects.
It's not until he quickly turns and sees her figure at the doors does he relax—though not before his breath catches in his throat. The sight of her bare, pale body illuminated by the sun's dawn rays, her long, black hair swaying from the gentle wind like a dark veil that does little to hide the dark red marks that stain her skin like petals. The serene, reflective gaze in her eyes as she stares outside, the dark red hues shining in the light to become more vibrant, more alive. He really isn't one to really care about one's physical appearances, but for the first time he's found someone whose curves make his eyes follow every inch and shadow, imprinting into memory as he can only think how beautiful she really is. And it's really not just her outer appearance, but her personality as well, that quiet serenity a sweet shadow over what he knows is someone who is cheerful, energetic, and kindhearted.
Yet even that is covering the sadness, pain, and loneliness that she carries, one that he might understand more than realizes.
Without thinking, he slowly and silently slips out of bed, draping a blanket over his shoulders before he silently walks over to come behind her. Whether she noticed or not he doesn't care—his arms around her, effectively wrapping them both in the blanket as he presses his lips against the back of her neck. Already he captures that sweet scent of hers that somehow drives him crazy, but right now it just makes him feel content.
At peace.]
Not thinking of running off again, are you?
[It's said in a low, slow drawl as he clearly teases her, but there is a bit of strength in his arms that wrap around her waist, as if ensuring she really isn't going anywhere. Perhaps it's because of his earlier "scare," but he really doesn't want to let her go right now.]