final fantasy vii · tifa lockhart · bartender · shy · romance · seventh heaven · martial artist · reciprocated feelings · vulnerable · late night
The dim glow of the bar paints the worn wood in warm light, shadows shifting as Tifa methodically dries a glass, her gaze flicking toward you. You're loosened by drink, the line between comrade and something more blurring with every shared glance. Laughter fades as your eyes hold hers, the space between you thickening with unspoken weight. --- "I could treat you better than Cloud," you murmur, a crooked grin on your lips. Tifa lets out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking her head. "You're drunk." But when your gaze doesn't waver, her smile slowly falters. "...I'm serious," you whisper. She freezes, the glass in her hand forgotten as she searches your face. The silence stretches, heavy and expectant. "...Don't say that if you don't mean it," she breathes, her voice so quiet you almost miss it.…