When she'd heard that Shinra was sending someone from SOLDIER to deal with the monster problem, Tifa had known exactly how the story was supposed to go. She'd known without a doubt that the SOLDIER that walked through the archway to their town would have blond spiky hair and mountain blue eyes and he'd remember his promise. She would have smiled and he would have smiled and everything else would have just fallen into place. What exactly that falling into place would have been, she hadn't been sure, vague on the details but there had been some kind of change that would have formed at that point, even if it was only letters and - and things would have changed for the better, slipping forward into a future that held more than just a sleepy, frozen town and a sleepy, frozen life.
Instead she'd ended up with something else entirely and, if she was being honest, she hadn't quite forgiven everyone that had come from Shinra for not having blond hair and a secret under a sky full of stars inside of them. She'd been trying though, to be helpful, to make a good impression of her town, to help them do what they needed to do because it was her job and she honestly did want them to think well of her home but also because - if she did, if she was impressive enough - than maybe they'd remember her and maybe she'd come up in conversation sometime and maybe a certain mountain grown boy would overhear it and think of her. Maybe.
This is the first time she's stopped trying so hard.
His hands feel good. Cold but warmer than her skin felt before and it's that he's chaffing warmth and circulation back into her pale skin but it's that she hasn't really been touched in years and it's that he's taking care of her even though it's supposed to be the other way around and it's that they're together in this and it's that he really actually talked to her when he's been mute as long as she's known him... and it's a dozen other small little things that she doesn't think about so much as simply feel. He's been taking care of her this entire time, she realizes belatedly and with a strange little jolt through her stomach. Up at the reactor and again on the way to the cabin and now again by warming her up and giving her his gloves. It's not single-handedly slaying a great green dragon for her but...
but she thinks she likes this better.
So much better.
If only they could do this without him getting hurt. She hates that part of it and she hates that it always seems to be for her sake...
Careful of those wounds now, she curls herself as much around him as she can, moving slow so that she won't jar his hands and risk his stopping, little subtle moves. He's taking care of her and she wants to take care of him too but she can't warm him up the way he's doing to her so there have to be other ways to do it. Her hands shift from where they're against her chest to curl against his and she lifts her eyes from where her head's on his shoulder to look at the triangle of his chin.
"I guess it doesn't snow like this in Midgar. I'd like to visit - one day. It sounds busy and exciting and loud and - not Nibelheim. Anything's supposed to be possible there but I guess you already know that. It must be fun, living where there's so much to do and see and all those people. But - I wonder if it's easier to be lonely there. I'd probably feel lost surrounded by so many strangers.
engineered the whole move. the WHOLE thing just to hide the horns!
Instead she'd ended up with something else entirely and, if she was being honest, she hadn't quite forgiven everyone that had come from Shinra for not having blond hair and a secret under a sky full of stars inside of them. She'd been trying though, to be helpful, to make a good impression of her town, to help them do what they needed to do because it was her job and she honestly did want them to think well of her home but also because - if she did, if she was impressive enough - than maybe they'd remember her and maybe she'd come up in conversation sometime and maybe a certain mountain grown boy would overhear it and think of her. Maybe.
This is the first time she's stopped trying so hard.
His hands feel good. Cold but warmer than her skin felt before and it's that he's chaffing warmth and circulation back into her pale skin but it's that she hasn't really been touched in years and it's that he's taking care of her even though it's supposed to be the other way around and it's that they're together in this and it's that he really actually talked to her when he's been mute as long as she's known him... and it's a dozen other small little things that she doesn't think about so much as simply feel. He's been taking care of her this entire time, she realizes belatedly and with a strange little jolt through her stomach. Up at the reactor and again on the way to the cabin and now again by warming her up and giving her his gloves. It's not single-handedly slaying a great green dragon for her but...
but she thinks she likes this better.
So much better.
If only they could do this without him getting hurt. She hates that part of it and she hates that it always seems to be for her sake...
Careful of those wounds now, she curls herself as much around him as she can, moving slow so that she won't jar his hands and risk his stopping, little subtle moves. He's taking care of her and she wants to take care of him too but she can't warm him up the way he's doing to her so there have to be other ways to do it. Her hands shift from where they're against her chest to curl against his and she lifts her eyes from where her head's on his shoulder to look at the triangle of his chin.
"I guess it doesn't snow like this in Midgar. I'd like to visit - one day. It sounds busy and exciting and loud and - not Nibelheim. Anything's supposed to be possible there but I guess you already know that. It must be fun, living where there's so much to do and see and all those people. But - I wonder if it's easier to be lonely there. I'd probably feel lost surrounded by so many strangers.