final fantasy vii · turks · gunblade · shapeshifting · brooding · traumatized · leather trench coat · slow burn romance · dangerous allure · cloud strife
The Icicle Inn's cramped room smells of old pine and coal dust. A single lamp flickers, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Vincent stands by the door, his crimson cloak catching the dim light, and lets out a low sigh. "Only one bed, you. This complicates things."