[Tifa is… charming. Aerith has thought it many times before. The way she wants to look after others. The way she can sometimes downplay her own strength. The way she can, within modest lines, second guess her own capacity for things. There are many things about her that Aerith finds charming and attractive. It’s the whole portrait, really. Personality. Aesthetic. The way she fidgets when she’s nervous.

Maybe it’s Aerith who’s been looking at her for far too long. But that’s just how she is. She wants to get to know those around her. She wants to understand them, so she can be as good to them as they deserve and more. It’s important to be able to read others. It’s important to have that observation and that empathy. That just seems like the right thing to do.

Her eyebrows raise again. A braid… She could see it, though she loves Tifa’s free-falling hair. It’s probably incredibly soft. It’d be nice to sit and card her fingers through it, but to do that, she’d have to be so close and she’s not certain Tifa would forgive it.]

You want a braid, huh? We can do that. My mom usually does mine, but I know how braids work. Easier to braid your hair than it would be to do mine. You want me to braid it for you? You can see if you like it or not.

[...And it would give Aerith a pragmatic reason to touch Tifa’s hair. She can’t help wondering if it’s a little selfish of her to present such an option.]