However calculated Piaget's words are, they fall flat in the face of the fury radiating off of Balthier. She's never seen him this angry, and she hates herself for thinking any less of him while locked in that cell.

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" She shouts back before everything bursts into motion around her.

If asked, Aerith would not have been able to detail how they made it back to the ship, or when exactly she began to cry. At some point, his blood seeped onto her dress as well, something Aerith barely notices between the tears rolling down her face, and his bloody hand taking hold of one of hers.

"Yes, of course," she manages in a wobbly voice, her hand turning to clasp his. Aerith's legs feel shaky as she climbs back to her feet, reaching to help him get up as well.

"Balthier." So many things come to mind to say, and her tongue gets tied up trying to find the right one. She wants to apologize, wants to thank him, kiss him, and promise to never leave his side again if it's what he wants.

She says none of those things, instead opting to frown at the floor while she puts all her weight into keeping him steady.

"Come on. You need to lay down."