She lives in a world where 'sorry' still means something and even if it didn't... the way he says it does. It's enough to cut through some of the sick misery and hurt because... he sounds kind of miserable and hurt too and Tifa's very bad about wanting to emphasize with others. It's easier to understand other people when they do strange things if you pretend it's you and... and it's how she doesn't feel so alone. Thinking about other people has become a natural defense to her to keep her from thinking about herself and even though she stubbornly doesn't want to trust him - it's a little too late. Her head turns. Not much. Just enough for a single vulnerable eye to peer at him cautiously over the safety of her pale arm. It's still reproachful but she's never going to get any better at hiding the hopefulness there either.

Except -

"Of course it's me." It comes out muffled and maybe a little slurred and her chin tucks so that the eye almost but doesn't quite disappear, a wild little animal edging out into the open but ready to bolt for the trees the second something looks like it's going to hurt. Except it already hurts. "It's not like I said I didn't want to be friends with you."