[And here she was almost expecting a raunchy knock-knock joke.

But he's quick, and her pulse jumps when he catches her as fast as Cloud or Vincent could.

Oh.

Well, then.

She makes a rather obvious play of considering his offered hand with a loud hmmmmm, before placing her hand in his, her fingertips brushing his palm. Her hand is sun-freckled and calloused from work, but her palm is warm as it rests on his.]

Nice to "meet" you, Wriothesley, I'm Aerith.

[There's a small pause, before her grin is obvious in the amused tone of her voice.]

So do you make a habit of surprising girls by poking them while they're trying on clothes, or are you just happy to meet me?