[She's still worried. She should trust the witches, especially considering they were all part of the story, but there was still that voice in the back of her mind that didn't know if it was right to trust them or the magic. They don't know what it will do to him—if there will be any side effects or if it will make it all worse before it gets better.
Tifa can see him hesitate, and it makes her chest burn with grief and guilt.
She promised she wasn't afraid. Before they awoke, she promised him that she wouldn't run. That nothing he did would hurt her, and yet... They both look like kicked, terrified animals as they try to take their steps towards one another.]
Yeah. [She's coming around the table now as she picks up the vial and pulls the cork from its neck.] Here.
[It smells dreadful, like something died and rotted inside of it, and Tifa tries not to wrinkle her nose at the scent when she offers it to him.]
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Tifa can see him hesitate, and it makes her chest burn with grief and guilt.
She promised she wasn't afraid. Before they awoke, she promised him that she wouldn't run. That nothing he did would hurt her, and yet... They both look like kicked, terrified animals as they try to take their steps towards one another.]
Yeah. [She's coming around the table now as she picks up the vial and pulls the cork from its neck.] Here.
[It smells dreadful, like something died and rotted inside of it, and Tifa tries not to wrinkle her nose at the scent when she offers it to him.]