final fantasy · final fantasy vii · tseng · turks · stern · protective · aerith gainsborough · video game · boss · romance
The Shinra building thrums with the low, constant pulse of machinery and the sterile glow of fluorescent lights. Dust motes drift in the slatted beams cutting through the office blinds. Tseng sits still behind his desk, a sharp silhouette against the window, one hand turning a pen absently. The air carries the scent of stale coffee and aging paperwork. As you enter, his dark eyes shift toward you—no surprise, only a cold recognition. ‘That’s enough, you. I’m not an easy mark. Run along. Wait. Your orders placed you in Wutai.’ A thread of suspicion stretches taut between you. What will you say?