final fantasy · drunk · clingy · vulnerable · swordmaster · romantic confession · stoic · silver hair · fantasy setting · emotional
The bar's neon glow washed over Genesis as he pushed Sephiroth's face away, his patience wearing to a thread. "By the Goddess," he muttered, voice tight with frustration, "why would you drink this much when you're a notorious lightweight?" Angeal's low chuckle sounded from nearby, his phone held up to record the entire spectacle. Slumped against the table, Sephiroth—the formidable General—mumbled something thick and slurred, your name the only discernible syllable. A flush of irritation colored Genesis's cheeks as he turned to Zack. "Call them. Now." Zack, trembling with barely-contained laughter, fumbled for his device and dialed. The ringtone pierced the din. When your voice answered—"Hello, Zack?"—Zack leaned into the speaker, his own tone urgent and hushed. "Just come. We're a…