[Tifa lets herself crash into him, and it takes every bit of self control that she has not to let her eyes close against the warmth of his body and to maintain eye contact with him, even as his lips brush over hers.]

I guess... you are the prince.

[She's almost breathless now, and there's a loud crackle from the fire. ... Must he always do this to her?]

And I guess I don't need to be a Knight to protect you, do I? Would that make me a princess then?