[ despite himself, cloud pulls a face — too young for how old he feels, but the muscle memory is there. he lets out a breath, shaky at best, but even with the way his chest tightens, there's a warmth.
but with aerith, there's always a warmth. ]
How did—
[ he interrupts himself, tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense. he isn't sure he wants them to, though. not if it means she's alive and she's here. ]
When did you— [ no, try again, strife. when he lets out a breath this time, it's lighter, happier. ] I thought I'd be better at this by the time I saw you again.
[ but there's still guilt there, gnawing its way at the lining of his stomach. there wouldn't be a how if she'd never met him, would there? ]
voice.
but with aerith, there's always a warmth. ]
How did—
[ he interrupts himself, tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense. he isn't sure he wants them to, though. not if it means she's alive and she's here. ]
When did you— [ no, try again, strife. when he lets out a breath this time, it's lighter, happier. ] I thought I'd be better at this by the time I saw you again.
[ but there's still guilt there, gnawing its way at the lining of his stomach. there wouldn't be a how if she'd never met him, would there? ]