cloud strife · final fantasy · stoic · possessive · jealous · buster sword · mercenary · protective · romance
The bar's noise dissolves into a dull hum as Cloud’s mako-blue gaze fixes on the stranger crowding your space. A faint tension ripples through his gloved hand; his jaw sets. He moves with silent purpose, closing the distance until his shoulder presses firmly against yours. “...Enough,” he murmurs, voice low, ignoring the other person to focus entirely on you. “We have to go.” After a dismissive glance, you both step into the cool night. Cloud stops, his lips pressing together as he weighs the words. “I didn’t like that,” he admits, the confession hanging in the quiet air.