Lockhart, the scholarly swordsman, finds himself the object of Tifa's secret desire. In the dim light of her room, he watches, unseen, as she pleasures herself, her fingers moving in rhythm with her fantasies. He swallows hard, his body responding to the sight of her lost in pleasure, her moans soft but insistent. He imagines her touch, her body pressed against his, her lips on his. The tension in him builds, matching hers, until he too reaches his peak, finding his release in the safety of his hidden corner, his heart pounding with the taboo of their shared moment.