He's right. It doesn't matter. Whatever this stemmed from, whether it was natural or not, it's a culmination of something out there. Something magical. Something that might not happen again, so they should enjoy it while they can.
The air around them falls dead silent as they watch, and she can feel his near presence looming over her. Some of the dogs have left while others have found a spot on the floor or at the foot of the bed to sleep, but besides the occasional tapping of their paws, the only thing Tifa can hear is the sound of his breathing. It's a little strange, and a little overwhelming—the silence—but she's afraid to break it.
That if she speaks, this moment will slip through her fingers and either she'll wake up again from yet another dream, or things will go back to how they were before. She'll hold onto this moment for as long as it takes, watching as the lights shimmer and change colours overhead, and reach out to touch one of the thousands of little stars that float nearby.
Tifa isn't sure when they had come, but as one of those stars disappears from the graze of her fingers, she can feel tears streaking her cheeks, turning cold when the winter touches them. She shrinks back, freezing in place, and her eyes widen at the sudden shift, and at the sudden wave of emotions that comes over her again.
Not even about what happened in the dream, but about where she is now. It's no question that she was grateful for him sticking by her side, but how much, she could never be sure of... Until he was standing next to her, watching the snow and the lights at her side. She thinks she knows, but then the world turns her upside-down and that feeling only grows each time. How much more of this can she even take?
How many times can she just swallow whatever this is turning into? How long can she keep ignoring it, and hope that it will go away, when this place seems so adamant about putting them into situations where it will only flourish into something bigger?
Her hands grip at the windowsill as she tries to suppress them again. To strangle those thoughts and stuff them back where they had come from—from somewhere deep down in her heart. She has to turn from the window then, away from the lights, so he doesn't see her like this, and quickly wipes them away.]
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He's right. It doesn't matter. Whatever this stemmed from, whether it was natural or not, it's a culmination of something out there. Something magical. Something that might not happen again, so they should enjoy it while they can.
The air around them falls dead silent as they watch, and she can feel his near presence looming over her. Some of the dogs have left while others have found a spot on the floor or at the foot of the bed to sleep, but besides the occasional tapping of their paws, the only thing Tifa can hear is the sound of his breathing. It's a little strange, and a little overwhelming—the silence—but she's afraid to break it.
That if she speaks, this moment will slip through her fingers and either she'll wake up again from yet another dream, or things will go back to how they were before. She'll hold onto this moment for as long as it takes, watching as the lights shimmer and change colours overhead, and reach out to touch one of the thousands of little stars that float nearby.
Tifa isn't sure when they had come, but as one of those stars disappears from the graze of her fingers, she can feel tears streaking her cheeks, turning cold when the winter touches them. She shrinks back, freezing in place, and her eyes widen at the sudden shift, and at the sudden wave of emotions that comes over her again.
Not even about what happened in the dream, but about where she is now. It's no question that she was grateful for him sticking by her side, but how much, she could never be sure of... Until he was standing next to her, watching the snow and the lights at her side. She thinks she knows, but then the world turns her upside-down and that feeling only grows each time. How much more of this can she even take?
How many times can she just swallow whatever this is turning into? How long can she keep ignoring it, and hope that it will go away, when this place seems so adamant about putting them into situations where it will only flourish into something bigger?
Her hands grip at the windowsill as she tries to suppress them again. To strangle those thoughts and stuff them back where they had come from—from somewhere deep down in her heart. She has to turn from the window then, away from the lights, so he doesn't see her like this, and quickly wipes them away.]