Though it isn't something she would have thought of, had their positions been switched, Aerith thinks she understands why he doesn't want any attachment to what they have to do here to anything else that

"Okay, my servant, and you can call me Mistress?" She's been called that before back at the Palace after stumbling into a room with another woman, and she's heard it used before by other prisoners. It's not terrible, but it's not the term he's found for her, something that's come to be more personal, that she only wants to hear from him.

Shifting against him, Aerith looks down at their bodies and lifts her skirt, holding it against his chest so it hung like a curtain on either side. "Is this okay?"