[ Tseng lets the kiss land without resistance, without attempting to withhold the low breath it draws from him. Naturally she doesn't argue but redirects, and the confidence of it folds into something warmer than affection in his chest.
Order in. Of course. She already assumes she's staying the night like it's the most natural thing in the world. He hasn't thought about it in those terms—not since the last time she left his apartment and his sheets smelling like her flowers. He hasn't said a word about not sleeping as well after he changed them. ]
Sushi, then. [ Tseng adjusts the turn of his wrist slightly, so her fingers fall more comfortably into place between his. All the while, her touch on his cheek has left a ghost of sensation; he's trying not to just reach for it again immediately. ] And whatever else you have in mind. [ Dangerous to grant Aerith that, but Tseng's own sidelong glance says that he's aware of just the risk he's taking with it. ]
[ Not expecting him to turn his wrist and take her hand like that, Aerith's got to tuck her head slightly in a vain effort to try and hide the wide grin that sweeps across her face at being met with Tseng's quiet, but still beautifully present affection. This is already the best birthday she's had in years. Even though she knows plenty of friendly faces in the slums, and the kids at Leaf House never let the day go by without singing to her and giving her homemade cards, it can be a lonely day. A time she spent daydreaming about Zack's return, even as the passing of years made it seem less and less likely he was going to turn up, much less on her birthday as a big surprise.
She's gotten over being shocked that it's Tseng who turned up and made her feel seen and cherished in this way, now, she's just thankful. ]
Whatever I have in mind, huh? [ Brilliant green eyes narrow slyly as she tilts her head back, trying to appear as though she were pondering a lot of very substantial ideas, her voice brightly matter-of-fact when she begins to lay them out. ]
Then, after sushi, you let me lay on your lap in the living room with a bottle of wine, and we talk until I kiss your neck enough times that you carry me to bed. And in the middle of the night, we get up and eat ice cream. [ It sounds perfect to her, it sounds like everything he probably shouldn't ever agree to from her. And that she knows he will anyway, just makes it even more precious and special. ]
All of that? [ His voice is low, dry with fond disbelief. She could have asked for more—extravagant things—some ideas and expectations he would have had to deny. The simplicity of her requests is the hardest thing to say no to. So, like this, Tseng just watches her with a look that slips a little too far to be professional anymore, or even restrained.
She says 'we' like it's the only version of the day she could want; it's intimacy so plainly stated that it leaves no room to pretend it's anything less. Expectation. He should be more careful with that, especially. Now, instead, Tseng lifts her hand slightly and his thumb moves in an idle motion over the back of it. Then he lets go, only to press his palm lightly against the small of her back. No rush, but there's intention in the gesture. A concession not just to her wishes, Tseng knows what else he's allowing. ]
We'll make a detour. For cake. [ Declarative but not so dry, and all for the subtle inflection. At the bakery he sometimes lets her go into, sometimes not. Decisions made without room for sentiment. This time he'll correct that. Still, he doesn't quite show her the faint curve at the corner of his mouth. ]
[ Even if she were the type to consider everything she could ask Tseng for, nothing holds as much appeal for Aerith as just simply getting to spend more time with him. Both times she's given away her heart, it was all she wanted, first from Zack, and now Tseng. She wants him, but separate from duty and the malignant, looming presence of Shinra. Stealing him away for her birthday seems like the best way to achieve that goal, and occupy more hours than she would have by just asking him to take her out somewhere to celebrate.
Just the quiet certainty behind the hand he settles on her back feels like a party to her, or at the very least, a cause for celebration. It shouldn't, but Aerith's never been closer to reconciling how it's okay that it does anyway than she is right now.
For a brief moment her weight pitches forward just enough to settle her chest against his, snuggling into him for a fleeting hug before she's pulling back, looping both of her arms through one of his. ]
Cake it is! Let's go Tseng! [ Cheerfully all-business, she's already moving towards the way out, fully ready to climb into his car and let the birthday festivities begin. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Order in. Of course. She already assumes she's staying the night like it's the most natural thing in the world. He hasn't thought about it in those terms—not since the last time she left his apartment and his sheets smelling like her flowers. He hasn't said a word about not sleeping as well after he changed them. ]
Sushi, then. [ Tseng adjusts the turn of his wrist slightly, so her fingers fall more comfortably into place between his. All the while, her touch on his cheek has left a ghost of sensation; he's trying not to just reach for it again immediately. ] And whatever else you have in mind. [ Dangerous to grant Aerith that, but Tseng's own sidelong glance says that he's aware of just the risk he's taking with it. ]
no subject
She's gotten over being shocked that it's Tseng who turned up and made her feel seen and cherished in this way, now, she's just thankful. ]
Whatever I have in mind, huh? [ Brilliant green eyes narrow slyly as she tilts her head back, trying to appear as though she were pondering a lot of very substantial ideas, her voice brightly matter-of-fact when she begins to lay them out. ]
Then, after sushi, you let me lay on your lap in the living room with a bottle of wine, and we talk until I kiss your neck enough times that you carry me to bed. And in the middle of the night, we get up and eat ice cream. [ It sounds perfect to her, it sounds like everything he probably shouldn't ever agree to from her. And that she knows he will anyway, just makes it even more precious and special. ]
no subject
She says 'we' like it's the only version of the day she could want; it's intimacy so plainly stated that it leaves no room to pretend it's anything less. Expectation. He should be more careful with that, especially. Now, instead, Tseng lifts her hand slightly and his thumb moves in an idle motion over the back of it. Then he lets go, only to press his palm lightly against the small of her back. No rush, but there's intention in the gesture. A concession not just to her wishes, Tseng knows what else he's allowing. ]
We'll make a detour. For cake. [ Declarative but not so dry, and all for the subtle inflection. At the bakery he sometimes lets her go into, sometimes not. Decisions made without room for sentiment. This time he'll correct that. Still, he doesn't quite show her the faint curve at the corner of his mouth. ]
no subject
Just the quiet certainty behind the hand he settles on her back feels like a party to her, or at the very least, a cause for celebration. It shouldn't, but Aerith's never been closer to reconciling how it's okay that it does anyway than she is right now.
For a brief moment her weight pitches forward just enough to settle her chest against his, snuggling into him for a fleeting hug before she's pulling back, looping both of her arms through one of his. ]
Cake it is! Let's go Tseng! [ Cheerfully all-business, she's already moving towards the way out, fully ready to climb into his car and let the birthday festivities begin. ]