She chokes on the words, sometimes. Occasionally they bubble up from nothing, and she has to bite her tongue. Other times, when his features show some hint of a smile, or when he glances at her from the corner of his eye, her chest starts to ache and the words rest on her palate, bittersweet and jarring.
It would be so easy.
I love you, Cloud.
The action would be so simple. But the ramifications, the consequences of such a big jump with nothing but rocks at the bottom made her bottle them up, keep them in check. Shove them down with every ounce of strength she'd accumulated in her twenty-one years of life.
I love you, Cloud.
She could picture it so easily. The rejection. The guilt in those deep blue eyes as he looks away, mutters an apology, his mind flashing with reasons that he would never dare say aloud. Your eyes aren't green, Tifa. You don't wear pink, Tifa.
She wonders about that saying… you don't know what you have until it's gone. She tries to imagine what his life would be like if she'd somehow given up her life instead. Would his eyes be as empty as they often are now? Would he smile more? Would he grieve for her the way he did for…
Aeris.
What a beautiful name. Feminine. It rolled right off the tongue. Aeris.
And what of hers? Tifa. Tee-fah. A little awkward, a little harsh. She sighs.
Strong Tifa. Happy Tifa. Optimistic, smiling, caring Tifa. Always there. Always helping, encouraging, pushing, holding, supporting.
I love you, Cloud.
And maybe, just maybe, if I stick around long enough…
You won't miss her quite so much.