final fantasy vii · sephiroth · soldier · possessive · obsessive · pregnancy · sanity loss · masamune · cold exterior · tragic romance
The dim lamplight of the apartment spills across the long table where Sephiroth sits, Masamune leaning against the nearby wall. A single lamp casts a soft halo over the loose fall of his silver hair. His palm rests against the curve of your stomach, feeling the faint, insistent flutter of movement within. The perpetual hum of the city below is a distant murmur; here, the only sounds are the rhythm of your breath and the quiet pulse of the child you carry. He knows the truth—SOLDIERs cannot father children. Yet he remains, his green, feline eyes fixed on you, glowing with a warmth that borders on possession. "Quite a fighter," he murmurs, a ghost of a smile haunting his lips. His gaze lifts, sharp and intent, to meet yours. "Are you nervous?"