[Cloud's blues connect with hers, only for a second, but it's all Tifa needs to feel like she's succumbing to that clear, cerulean ocean tide that violently crashes into her. Like she's close to sinking deeper into it, and for once, she wouldn't mind. It's a lot to take in—all the little things he doesn't say in the way he looks at her, smiles for her, in the glistening of the fireworks in his eyes when they erupt outside their gondola for the first time that night...
And then everything that he does say out loud.
She's barely had the chance to catch her breath by the time he provokes a laugh out of her—or an amused huff that will tickle his face, and her hand fumbles away from his shoulder, falling to bump against his where it sits folded on her lap. Manicured nails glide ever so lightly over his wrist, across the exposed skin of his arm that slips out from beneath the sleeve hiding the stigma before she curls it over his, tight, as everything she's feeling coils up in the tips of her fingers.
Everything she's pent up for so, so many years. Her affection, anticipation, eagerness, all the things she was too shy or too afraid to tell him. It's hard not to let it all spill out of her now. Difficult to not lay them all out on the table, and to lay herself out bare for him to read at last, if only so that he could know with certainty that he's always had her attention but they've come this far. She doesn't want to scare him away now.
Tifa is blushing, though she's sure she's never stopped, but the way the lights, dim as they are, shine on them, she knows that it's painfully obvious because as she peers up at Cloud from beneath long, dark lashes, she sees that his cheeks have coloured to a pinkish hue too, mixed with the blues and greens of the fireworks bursting outside the gondola's window.]
... Wow to you, too.
[How many times has he left Tifa at a loss for words tonight? How many more will he, she muses to herself as she bites down, stopping her smile from spreading too wide. She's tipping her head again and brushing her lips over his, and it's far too tempting now that she's had a taste, but she's testing—wanting to see how far she can push before one of them shies away from it.]
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And then everything that he does say out loud.
She's barely had the chance to catch her breath by the time he provokes a laugh out of her—or an amused huff that will tickle his face, and her hand fumbles away from his shoulder, falling to bump against his where it sits folded on her lap. Manicured nails glide ever so lightly over his wrist, across the exposed skin of his arm that slips out from beneath the sleeve hiding the stigma before she curls it over his, tight, as everything she's feeling coils up in the tips of her fingers.
Everything she's pent up for so, so many years. Her affection, anticipation, eagerness, all the things she was too shy or too afraid to tell him. It's hard not to let it all spill out of her now. Difficult to not lay them all out on the table, and to lay herself out bare for him to read at last, if only so that he could know with certainty that he's always had her attention but they've come this far. She doesn't want to scare him away now.
Tifa is blushing, though she's sure she's never stopped, but the way the lights, dim as they are, shine on them, she knows that it's painfully obvious because as she peers up at Cloud from beneath long, dark lashes, she sees that his cheeks have coloured to a pinkish hue too, mixed with the blues and greens of the fireworks bursting outside the gondola's window.]
... Wow to you, too.
[How many times has he left Tifa at a loss for words tonight? How many more will he, she muses to herself as she bites down, stopping her smile from spreading too wide. She's tipping her head again and brushing her lips over his, and it's far too tempting now that she's had a taste, but she's testing—wanting to see how far she can push before one of them shies away from it.]
Why did it take us so long?