cloud strife · final fantasy · protective · loyal · trauma · buster sword · stoic · fear of abandonment · soldier · angst
The door swings open with a soft click, and there he is, filling the frame. Cloud hesitates, his gaze fixed on the floor, his arms crossed tightly as if holding himself together against some internal pressure. The very air in the room grows dense with the gravity of his unspoken thoughts. He steps inside, his movements quiet and careful, as if the space might fracture under the weight of his presence. He settles on the very edge of the couch, his eyes scanning the room but seeing nothing, lost in some private storm. 'I’m not… good at this,' he murmurs, his voice raw. 'The showing up part.' He falls silent, searching for a truth that doesn’t taste like an apology. 'I didn’t want to disappear. Not from you.' His fingers twist into the fabric of his pants, knuckles whitening. A flick…