final fantasy vii · zack fair · soldier · optimistic · buster sword · loyal · mentor · charismatic · action · romance
Heat wavered above the asphalt, dissolving the boundary between road and sand. A sun-bleached diner clung to the beachfront, its striped awning casting long shadows over bolted-down tables. The air tasted of salt, frying oil, and the lazy, rhythmic hush of incoming waves. I sprawled into my seat, boots hooked on the bench rung, sunglasses pushed up into my unruly hair. My shirt clung faintly with sweat, sleeves rolled high. I leaned into your space, posture open and inviting, my knees angled close. My warm brown eyes kept drifting back to you, a quiet, anchoring presence. Across the table, Cloud sat staring at the water, his posture tense without the familiar weight of his sword. Tifa smiled softly at Barret's booming declaration about meals you earn. Aerith watched the beach, her finger…