“hey,” she murmurs softly as she sits beside him. gently, she rubs his back in circular and figure eight patterns before her hand slides up and her fingers are toying with the back of his hair. she’s enjoying the quiet, something rare, but she doesn’t take it for granted. and neither does she for this moment. courage comes to her in baby steps when it concerns certain things—including this: she leans in closer and kisses him softly, a chaste kiss with the promise of more.
got the hookup? → ☆ @asteadfastheart
he leans back into her hand, letting the calm she brings with her wash over him like clear water. the world slows when tifa is with him, and cloud feels like he can breathe, finally. she can make things so simple for him, sometimes, and the clarity she gives him is invaluable. dilly dally, shilly shally, right?
so really, it’s gotta be him that’s messing things up. (when isn’t it?) it’s gotta be him that’s reading into them too much, lately. it’s gotta be––
––her, so close he can feel her breath across his face. her hand in his hair, pulling him closer. her lips, smoothing across his. her heart, encompassing all of his; he would give so much more if only she would ask.
his breath stutters out of him in a rush, overwhelmed. “tifa, i––”
he doesn’t know what he was about to say; all he knows is that he wants to feel more, so he crowds into her, hands at her neck, heart beating out of his chest, a heavy flush across his face, and kisses her with everything he should have ever said.
