[ tifa's never been stupid -- far from it, truly, even in spite of her impulsive streak. but she speaks candidly in a way she so seldom does, and she's so far away from him, eons separating them.
he wonders why. but whys always came with a hurt he could never quantify, a pain that both grounded and muddled his existence. ]
I guess I'm just--
[ he eyes rove up, the slow crawl of the moonrise, and he grows meeker -- more like himself. like the boy she'd known at nibelheim, rather than the man at midgar. ]
Afraid. Of being trapped. I... I don't know why. But then I think about it, I...
[ no. he wouldn't let himself taint this. not as memories, swirling swathes of color sand voices, surface like broken capillaries swelling beneath a bruise. his fingers find hers, latching onto her for purchase as he shakes himself out of it.
and then. in a complete shift, he's at peace again -- as if nothing had happened at all. ]
...It's okay. [ he says, if to reassure both himself and her. wasn't that typically the case? it was -- had to be for both of them. ] ...Don't know either. For as long as I can remember, it's... been about surviving. Nothing less, nothing more.
[ he doesn't respond to her question, not immediately. but then quietly -- he leans into her, eyes transfixed on the soft contours of her face, of the way her eyes burn amber in contrast to his cerulean. ]
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he wonders why. but whys always came with a hurt he could never quantify, a pain that both grounded and muddled his existence. ]
I guess I'm just--
[ he eyes rove up, the slow crawl of the moonrise, and he grows meeker -- more like himself. like the boy she'd known at nibelheim, rather than the man at midgar. ]
Afraid. Of being trapped. I... I don't know why. But then I think about it, I...
[ no. he wouldn't let himself taint this. not as memories, swirling swathes of color sand voices, surface like broken capillaries swelling beneath a bruise. his fingers find hers, latching onto her for purchase as he shakes himself out of it.
and then. in a complete shift, he's at peace again -- as if nothing had happened at all. ]
...It's okay. [ he says, if to reassure both himself and her. wasn't that typically the case? it was -- had to be for both of them. ] ...Don't know either. For as long as I can remember, it's... been about surviving. Nothing less, nothing more.
[ he doesn't respond to her question, not immediately. but then quietly -- he leans into her, eyes transfixed on the soft contours of her face, of the way her eyes burn amber in contrast to his cerulean. ]
...Only if you want it to be about us.