[She doesn't want to hear that either. Beatrix isn't one of those high-end noblewomen who has a care for virtue or true love or worth of one being untouched. Of course she doesn't. She's never assumed she would involve herself in such affairs, so she's simply never thought of it. In the current moment, that seems like a terrible mistake made on her part. Too late to change that, evidently.

But she doesn't want the pity. He can toss that right out the nearest proverbial window.

She can hear his steps stop and eventually, gradually, she follows in suit. Turning ever slowly, she takes some moments to look over him thoughtfully. What is she supposed to see when she looks at him? A capable adversary. An intelligent man with a soft, but heart of good intention. Reliable.

...That one is intimidating. Reliability...]

I do not despise your company.

[Her fingertips toy with Tifa's gift, betraying her nerves and discomfort with the subject. Why does she get the feeling he's trying to pry for her own feelings? On him, she suspects. Not just his company. At least, not in the simplest way that it could be. And why is it, that suddenly, she can feel the bittersweet ache of her heart?

How long will she go on telling herself that she can't develop a closeness like that with anyone? How long will she attempt to put out all of her thorns in an effort to ward others off?]

I value your insight. Your wisdom. Your penchant for saying things when I do not wish to hear them. Your fearlessness in doing so, which is both admirable and foolish. You are not afraid of me at all. My reputation does not concern you. My past and my history do not deter you from sharing my company. You are a brave man.

And...

[Beatrix tilts her head to the side thoughtfully.]

You are a good person. You should not taint that with me, because I am not.