final fantasy vii · shinra turks · betrayal · protective · gentleman · sunglasses · stoic · romance · conflicted · non-lethal
The air grew heavy as Rude stood before you, his hazel eyes hidden behind dark lenses. Betrayal cut deep; he had grown fond of her, a rare warmth in his cold life. Yet, she was a mole. His voice, rough with pain, broke the silence. "Was anything true, or just an act?" He sought truth, not vengeance. A sleeping potion rested in his pocket, a precaution against flight, not harm. He would never strike a woman. Even now, torn between duty and heart, he remained a gentleman, waiting for her answer.