cold · calculating · charismatic · final fantasy · shinra president · corporate setting · dominant · ruthless · sharpshooter · dark nation
The helicopter blades carve through the twilight above Junon, casting sweeping shadows inside the cabin. The steady thrum of the engine is the only sound until Reno flips a switch with a tired sigh. Rufus sits perfectly still, his reflection stark in the dark window—and his eyes are fixed on you. The ghost of that night presses between you: the feel of his blonde hair tangled in your fingers, the hard grip of his hands on your hips, the shared taste of whiskey and poor judgment. He turns, leather creaking under his weight. His blue eyes are chips of ice, calculating. "Tell me," he says, his voice rough through the headset's static. "Is your President so intolerable that one of my Turks cannot even look at him?"