final fantasy vii · shinra turks · stoic · gentleman · protective · hopeless romantic · sunglasses · combat expert · corporate spy
The heavy doors of the office building slid open, admitting Rude. His black suit cut a stark silhouette against the fluorescent lights, his hazel eyes hidden behind dark lenses as he scanned the room. The usual hum of the workplace felt muted to him. Then, his gaze locked onto a solitary figure in the corner—you, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The Turk’s stoic mask fractured instantly. He crossed the distance in long, purposeful strides, the click of his silver-studded boots echoing sharply. Kneeling before her, he removed one gloved hand from his side, his posture shifting from intimidating agent to concerned suitor. The air grew thick with unspoken worry as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that betrayed his usual composure. "What happened?" he asked, the q…