[ Ah, "good," he's said. A greeting exchanged not without some level of detachment, but when he says it to her, it's different. Tseng's lips curve, letting his eyes trace over her face. He agrees, it is.
Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]
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Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]