Just when she begins to wonder if she was being stupid for noticing him as much as she has and in the way she's begun to, Balthier takes his hands in hers and makes it impossible for Aerith to think of anything but the things he says and the way he says them.

Were she more experienced with things sort of thing or more worldly in a general sense, she might have weighed the risks of giving into the pull she's felt between them all night, a pull that's exacerbated by the wine and made very difficult to question with him looking into her eyes and telling her he doesn't want her to feel caged.

But, she isn't, and so she doesn't. Instead Aerith steps forward, bridging the space between them as she brings herself up onto the balls of her feet and presses her lips intently against his.