Tifa was anxious, pacing with anticipation of the knock at the window downstairs. She hadn't seen Rufus--at lea st, not while he was acting himself--for so long. Before the virus, even. She wasn't sure what she would say. The uncertainty of the whole situation weighed heavy on the forefront of her mind
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"...Rufus..." Was all she could manage, taking a few steps toward him, she placed a hand on his arm. "I..."
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"90 proof. Think that'll occupy you for now?" She set him out a shot glass as well as the vodka bottle, leaning over the bar to stare up at him. "While we talk?"
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