Do I? I feel like I look like some part-timer here.
[ It's said with a wry note of humor, begrudging, but he appreciates that she says anything--even if he guesses it's likely just Tifa being kind to him, noticing how out of his element he is, or how much he needs to at least be reassured before they step out into the crowds of people. That's one thing he's never liked about this place: and one thing that, surprisingly, hasn't changed at all. In fact, he wonders if there are even more people here in the Gold Saucer than before--people trying desperately to find distractions from the way the world is, now, with the threat of destruction and the pressure of rebuilding, and the looming, terrifying shadow of geostigma threatening to wipe them all out for good.
They haven't really talked about it, since that night at the inn, and it's something he's grateful for. Nothing has really changed--his arm aches, from time to time, but the splotch of dark, painted across his skin, hasn't gotten any bigger, and he hasn't felt it really affecting anything unless it's been a particularly long day and he hasn't stretched properly before work. Here, too, he doesn't notice it: it's tucked safely underneath the sleeve of his sweater, after all, and Tifa won't be able to see it, or feel it, even if she reaches out to touch him. Maybe a part of that is wishful thinking, on his part; maybe he's falling into the same traps that everyone else is, seeing this place as an escape from reality, even just for the night.
With their door shut, and his hand testing the handle on the outside just to assure that it's locked, he drops his arms down, awkwardly, uncertain of whether he should offer one to Tifa or not. ]
I was thinking we could...maybe try out some of the new rides, or whatever, first.
[ He mumbles this, slightly, as they make their way down the hall--at the stairs, he lifts a palm, gestures for Tifa to go ahead of him so that he can, practical and firm, watch her back, as though she even needs his protection when there's no one else that he can see inside the place to begin with. ]
There's a carousel, I don't know if you'd like that.
[ Ruefully, he reaches up to adjust some of his hair before he hops off the last stair, at the bottom, and darts forward--he pushes the door open for her, gesturing her out into the cooler air of the Gold Saucer itself. It's hard to remember that he should be doing all these things for her; mostly he assumes that Tifa is too capable to want some guy doing this or that for her, not wanting to insult the respect that he has for her power: but this, he figures, is different. She should be treated like the beautiful woman that she is; and he feels like he fumbles over everything. ]
no subject
[ It's said with a wry note of humor, begrudging, but he appreciates that she says anything--even if he guesses it's likely just Tifa being kind to him, noticing how out of his element he is, or how much he needs to at least be reassured before they step out into the crowds of people. That's one thing he's never liked about this place: and one thing that, surprisingly, hasn't changed at all. In fact, he wonders if there are even more people here in the Gold Saucer than before--people trying desperately to find distractions from the way the world is, now, with the threat of destruction and the pressure of rebuilding, and the looming, terrifying shadow of geostigma threatening to wipe them all out for good.
They haven't really talked about it, since that night at the inn, and it's something he's grateful for. Nothing has really changed--his arm aches, from time to time, but the splotch of dark, painted across his skin, hasn't gotten any bigger, and he hasn't felt it really affecting anything unless it's been a particularly long day and he hasn't stretched properly before work. Here, too, he doesn't notice it: it's tucked safely underneath the sleeve of his sweater, after all, and Tifa won't be able to see it, or feel it, even if she reaches out to touch him. Maybe a part of that is wishful thinking, on his part; maybe he's falling into the same traps that everyone else is, seeing this place as an escape from reality, even just for the night.
With their door shut, and his hand testing the handle on the outside just to assure that it's locked, he drops his arms down, awkwardly, uncertain of whether he should offer one to Tifa or not. ]
I was thinking we could...maybe try out some of the new rides, or whatever, first.
[ He mumbles this, slightly, as they make their way down the hall--at the stairs, he lifts a palm, gestures for Tifa to go ahead of him so that he can, practical and firm, watch her back, as though she even needs his protection when there's no one else that he can see inside the place to begin with. ]
There's a carousel, I don't know if you'd like that.
[ Ruefully, he reaches up to adjust some of his hair before he hops off the last stair, at the bottom, and darts forward--he pushes the door open for her, gesturing her out into the cooler air of the Gold Saucer itself. It's hard to remember that he should be doing all these things for her; mostly he assumes that Tifa is too capable to want some guy doing this or that for her, not wanting to insult the respect that he has for her power: but this, he figures, is different. She should be treated like the beautiful woman that she is; and he feels like he fumbles over everything. ]