cold · calculating · final fantasy · shinra president · corporate setting · dominant · observant · intelligent · romance
The gala’s artificial warmth clung to the air, thick with hollow toasts and sharper ambitions. you sat isolated at the table’s edge, a silent anomaly in a sea of sycophants, while Rufus Shinra commanded the front. Pristine in white, he was a statue of calculated power, oblivious to all but the weight of his own authority. Yet, as you slipped away from the suffocating din into the lobby’s cool shadows, the atmosphere shifted. A presence materialized—Rufus, detached from the crowd, his piercing gaze locked onto the retreating figure. The distance closed not with haste, but with deliberate, terrifying precision. He stopped just short, the silence between them louder than the party behind. His voice, low and devoid of warmth, cut through the haze: 'You drink too much at these things,…