[ She can feel it, Maika's eyes on her, refusing to stray for one, two, three seconds too long. Aerith isn't oblivious—never has been—and she knows what gazes like that mean, the potential that they can hold. She feels particularly sensitive for a moment, like her nerves are firing simultaneously right underneath her skin and it makes her want to shiver.
All at once, she's aware of the atmosphere. The lack of space between them, the late hour, the soft and intimately revealing conversation. Her smile softens for a moment before she shifts to something closer to a grin, trying to ease over some of the tension.
It isn't lost on her, none of it is. That's especially the case as she shrugs off her jacket and lets it hit the floor before falling back against the mattress. ]
You're right about that. I don't think she needs another thing on her plate.
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All at once, she's aware of the atmosphere. The lack of space between them, the late hour, the soft and intimately revealing conversation. Her smile softens for a moment before she shifts to something closer to a grin, trying to ease over some of the tension.
It isn't lost on her, none of it is. That's especially the case as she shrugs off her jacket and lets it hit the floor before falling back against the mattress. ]
You're right about that. I don't think she needs another thing on her plate.