[She knows exactly what she's doing, and she's savouring every moment of it, and the way the goosebumps rise as she tosses her head to the side, giving his lips more skin to work with. But forward, her gaze casts down, watching as the soap slides down her arms and into the water, the playfulness of her smile relaxing.
He did say a lot of things, and Tifa remembers each and every word of it, but there was something that had stuck with her, even as she dozed off, and remained there when she woke up. She had smaller pieces of his past that she'd held onto, but nothing quite like what he'd said, and she wonders—how different would things be if they'd met just a little bit earlier? Would he really have not let her in the same way he has now? Or at all? Would they even be friends?
There's so much that Tifa doesn't know about him, and if they're to do this, maybe it's time to change that. Maybe it's time she found out why, when they first met, he'd still been so closed off. Perhaps there was a reason she was so drawn to that lone wolf at the bar.
The mere thought pulls in her chest, opening up a hole that aches for his presence, even though he's right here with her. The idea of not having him in her life is not one she wants to humour at all. He may leave tomorrow, or even sooner, but him not being there at all is so much worse than that.
The sound of the water echoes when she shifts, stretching across her front to grab one of his hands the moment it comes into reach, so that she can thread her fingers through his, tight.]
You said something about your past. How you wanted peace and solace from it...
[... A beat, and she relaxes her grip.]
You don't have to talk about all of it, but... you can with me, if you want.
no subject
He did say a lot of things, and Tifa remembers each and every word of it, but there was something that had stuck with her, even as she dozed off, and remained there when she woke up. She had smaller pieces of his past that she'd held onto, but nothing quite like what he'd said, and she wonders—how different would things be if they'd met just a little bit earlier? Would he really have not let her in the same way he has now? Or at all? Would they even be friends?
There's so much that Tifa doesn't know about him, and if they're to do this, maybe it's time to change that. Maybe it's time she found out why, when they first met, he'd still been so closed off. Perhaps there was a reason she was so drawn to that lone wolf at the bar.
The mere thought pulls in her chest, opening up a hole that aches for his presence, even though he's right here with her. The idea of not having him in her life is not one she wants to humour at all. He may leave tomorrow, or even sooner, but him not being there at all is so much worse than that.
The sound of the water echoes when she shifts, stretching across her front to grab one of his hands the moment it comes into reach, so that she can thread her fingers through his, tight.]
You said something about your past. How you wanted peace and solace from it...
[... A beat, and she relaxes her grip.]
You don't have to talk about all of it, but... you can with me, if you want.