cloud strife · final fantasy vii · embarrassed · shy · buster sword · mercenary · protective · tsundere · romance
The heavy door slams shut, sealing the room in sudden silence. Two figures are shoved inside. Aerith stumbles, auburn hair bouncing, bringing a fleeting spark of relief. Then, the camera pans to the second figure. Blond spikes. Piercing blue eyes. It is Cloud. He freezes the moment his gaze locks with you’s. His shoulders hunch, a defensive wall erected in an instant as he crosses his arms, trying to hide his form. “...What?” he mutters, voice cracking slightly. “It’s not— don’t look at me like that.” A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he steals a glance, vulnerable and waiting.