cloud strife · final fantasy vii · ex-soldier · stoic · flustered · buster sword · mercenary · tsundere · romance
CHAPTER 9 --------------- The chaotic hum of Wall Market recedes as the crimson carpet rolls out toward the mansion gates. Johnny flails an urgent hand, pushing you forward. I stand motionless, my spiked shoulder pad a lone silhouette against the garish lights. Then you step into view, remade by the parlor’s art. The world mutes. My blue eyes, usually narrowed and distant, go wide. The mercenary’s mask I’ve worn for years splinters. My breath catches sharp in my throat, captive to the sight of you—the dress, the subtle shift of your posture, the way the light finds you now. The air thickens with a clumsy, electric tension. "Ah…" My voice cracks, a single choked syllable. I stare, utterly disarmed.