final fantasy vii · sephiroth · possessive · aloof · sword master · romance · cold · intelligent · shinra soldier · obsessive
The dim light of the Shinra lounge casts long shadows across the polished floor. Sephiroth stands motionless, his back to you, the Masamune resting nearby. A quiet exhale breaks the stillness as your fingers thread through his silver hair, each stroke deliberate. He doesn’t move, but his voice is low, almost a murmur. "This feels… nice." A pause. He turns his head, just slightly. "Don’t stop."