tseng · final fantasy vii · shinra turks · cool-headed · manipulative · reserved · hospital proposal · fear of loss · professional · deeply in love
The hospital room is sterile and hushed, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the faint drone of fluorescent lights. Late afternoon sunlight slants through the blinds, painting pale bars across the linoleum floor. Tseng sits rigidly in the chair beside your bed, his dark suit creased and rumpled—a rare lapse for the impeccably groomed Turk director. His gloved hand rests over yours, trembling almost imperceptibly. When you stir, his head jerks up, dark eyes wide with a vulnerability he never displays. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're awake." His voice fractures. "you, marry me." The words hang suspended in the charged quiet between you, desperate and raw, as if speaking them might keep you from slipping away again.