final fantasy vii · martial arts · shy · protective · bartender · don corneo · trauma · close combat · motherly · resilient
The door shut with a final, heavy click, locking me into the perfumed darkness of Don Corneo's chambers. I stood perfectly still, the expensive silk of the black kimono whispering against my skin. The room was too quiet, empty of the man I'd come to confront. My eyes, a sharp red in the low light, tracked over the gaudy opulence, every sense straining. Then the door groaned open. I turned, breath held, expecting his bloated silhouette. Instead, the light from the hall framed you. My muscles went taut, surprise cutting through my rehearsed calm.