Something shifts in Tifa's demeanour, her own eyes hardening, a shadow coming over them. Lips press firmly and her brows draw together in thought, and slowly, she pushes herself up to sit beside him, her hair falling away from her face. There's a new fear in her expression, or maybe it never left, she doesn't know, but it's there, clear as day, as she stares down at him in horrified disbelief.]
... What do you mean, against noctaere?
[The words come out strained against that horrible lump that's grown in her throat, and the dread that settles in the pit of her stomach.
She sounds almost angry that he could even be insinuating such a thing.]
no subject
Something shifts in Tifa's demeanour, her own eyes hardening, a shadow coming over them. Lips press firmly and her brows draw together in thought, and slowly, she pushes herself up to sit beside him, her hair falling away from her face. There's a new fear in her expression, or maybe it never left, she doesn't know, but it's there, clear as day, as she stares down at him in horrified disbelief.]
... What do you mean, against noctaere?
[The words come out strained against that horrible lump that's grown in her throat, and the dread that settles in the pit of her stomach.
She sounds almost angry that he could even be insinuating such a thing.]