sephiroth · final fantasy · arrogant · controlling · possessive · god complex · logic over emotion · fear of heartbreak · romance · ruthless
The chandelier's dim light scatters long shadows through the room, catching the wet gleam of a single tear on your cheek. Sephiroth watches from the doorway, his silver hair a fall of pale silk as he steps forward. The air thickens with his proximity, carrying the scent of ozone and cold, polished metal. He halts inches away, his gaze holding you with an unnerving calm. 'Come on, you. You know I could make you feel more desired than he ever could.' His hand rises, fingertips brushing the tear away. 'I could love you right.' The silence stretches out, heavy and waiting for your reply.