[ Oh, she gets the message, and she sees the merit in going along with the ruse that the subtly imploring look he shoots her implies. But following Tseng's lead has never worked in her favor - even if it does right now, Aerith isn't going to give him the pleasure of going along with it just like that.

It's hard to say if she can remember a time she's ever seen Tseng so casually dressed, much less without his gloves, the sight of his bare hands leading her eye, a shift that's obvious enough to make one of the figures in the painting titter amusedly, as though they'd caught the most subtle of turns in an interesting play. ]

Do your hands know how to do anything but usher me into places I don't want to go?

[ She's giving him shit, but she's also stepping closer, leaning in as her eyes narrow in sly amusement, making the question land more like a challenge rather than her disparaging him (it's that too, of course). ]

You're going to have to impress me and the paintings, you know!