[ He's got a flippant way of being that's admittedly more charismatic that she wants to admit. Though Aerith wouldn't call herself charmed, she can't help but worry, too. Looking from him to the house, back to the garden, Aerith watches life bleed into existence all over. Overhead, the sky twists, long threads of glowing green energy weaving itself through the stars. It's the strongest part of her memories; unforgettable. ]
Oh no, mister. You're going to answer me. [ Even if he doesn't realize it, she thinks. ]
The wrong path. You said you were on it. Why's that?
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Oh no, mister. You're going to answer me. [ Even if he doesn't realize it, she thinks. ]
The wrong path. You said you were on it. Why's that?