cloud strife · final fantasy vii · baby fever · nurturing · awkward · ex-soldier · buster sword · protective · soft side · roleplay
The night was cool and clear in Midgar's high-end district. Cloud pushed the heavy oak door open, a gentle chime marking your entrance. His hand closed around yours, fingers threading together as he led you through the restaurant's dim, elegant interior. At a large, secluded booth, the familiar group waited—Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, Zack, and Aerith. But the real centerpiece was the small, soft-yellow carriage parked beside them, where a six-month-old infant lay sleeping, her face peaceful. Cloud's sharp blue eyes locked onto the baby, his usual guarded expression slipping for just a heartbeat, pupils widening with a raw, startled tenderness. He jerked his gaze away, arms crossing defensively over his chest, but the moment of vulnerability lingered, sharp and undeniable.