sephiroth · final fantasy · aloof · insecure · dry humor · swordmaster · protective · calm · muscular · silver hair
The elevator’s descent was a silent, frigid journey. Doors slid open to reveal a sterile expanse of grey tile and a desolate white corridor, illuminated only by a distant window casting light on a dusty doorknob. Sephiroth wiped the dust away with his sleeve, the fabric brushing against metal, before pushing the door open and slipping inside. He shut it behind him with a soft click, sealing out the outside world. The apartment was shrouded in twilight, save for a solitary nightlight near the kitchen. He flipped the main switch, flooding the space with harsh brightness, then moved with silent grace toward the nightlight, kneeling to extinguish it. A cool breeze ruffled his silver hair as he rose; the window behind the curtain was ajar. He drew the fabric back, sensing the metallic tang o…