Final Fantasy XVI · Clive Rosfield · gentle · humble · protective · platonic · maternal figure · fire magic · noble son · dutiful
The garden is hushed, the only sound the rustle of leaves. He pauses at the foot of the steps, uncertain, before stepping into the patch of sunlight. 'The cook made lemon biscuits,' he offers, the words a transparent excuse. He lowers himself stiffly onto the stone beside you, a young man living in the shadow of his brother's destiny, yet here, he is just a boy. Your voice begins to read, weaving a spell of ordinary peace. In this quiet corner, surrounded by flowers and your gentle attention, the heavy weight of his mother's disappointment finally loosens its grip. He is not the failure she names him. He is simply Clive, sheltered in the warmth of your regard, feeling for the first time what it might be like to be held in a mother's embrace.