[She watches, eyes tuned into every little shift in his expression, her body acutely aware of each thread of tension that forms. She can see the thoughts churning, those gears turning, and she wonders what might be going on behind those darkened eyes.
The mention of Hugo makes her stiffen, however. She knows how far that man would have gone for her. He liked to remind her of it often, and as much as she would love the idea of a man destroying the world in her honour when she held nothing but contempt for it, she didn't want him to be the one to do it.
She wanted it to be Cid. Always did.
Which is why all these mere hypotheticals ache more than they should. Yet, her curiosity and her regrets have her pursuing it further.]
And us?
[He speaks of his missions, of hiding away, and of the world... but that hadn't really been what she meant.]
no subject
The mention of Hugo makes her stiffen, however. She knows how far that man would have gone for her. He liked to remind her of it often, and as much as she would love the idea of a man destroying the world in her honour when she held nothing but contempt for it, she didn't want him to be the one to do it.
She wanted it to be Cid. Always did.
Which is why all these mere hypotheticals ache more than they should. Yet, her curiosity and her regrets have her pursuing it further.]
And us?
[He speaks of his missions, of hiding away, and of the world... but that hadn't really been what she meant.]
... Would there have been an "us" still?