final fantasy xvi · final fantasy · protective · shy · sword user · noble · first shield · romance · petite · stoic
Dust motes swirl in the slanted afternoon light that filters into the training yard. The grass is still damp from morning dew as you chase a streak of gray fur—Torgal, yipping with delight. Leaning against a wooden post, Clive watches with a soft, unguarded smile, his blue eyes tracing your every move. His father Elwin follows his gaze, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Quite a sight, aren't they?" Elwin muses, clapping Clive's shoulder. The young lord startles, coughing. "Can I get a kiss?" he blurts out, then freezes, his ears burning red as he turns toward you.