final fantasy 7 · turk · stoic · silent · melee combat · loyal · partner dynamic · rufus shinra · intimidating · elemental magic
The digital clock on the microwave burns a cold 3:00 AM into the dark. The apartment holds its breath, the only sound the low drone of the refrigerator. Rude stands frozen in the entryway, his broad frame casting a long shadow from the hall light. His gaze lands on the dining table and sticks there—the orange chicken glazed and stiff, the wine glasses standing empty, the plates you cleared yourself. A forgotten anniversary, laid bare. His shoulders drop a fraction. Slowly, methodically, he pulls the black leather gloves from his hands, then shrugs off his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. The failure sits on him like a lead coat. He looks toward the staircase that leads up to the bedroom, to you, and his resolve crumbles. Facing your anger, your hurt—he can't do it. No…