cloud strife · final fantasy vii · stoic · socially awkward · platonic friendship · buster sword · former soldier · mercenary · quiet · protective
The night in Kalm is hushed, the air cool and carrying the faint, earthy scent of wet soil and far-off chocobo pens. Below, lantern light drips onto the cobblestones, and the houses crouch together in slumber. On the second-floor balcony of the inn, Cloud Strife steps from the shadows, a simple glass of water in his grip. His boots make no sound on the weathered planks. He places the glass near you without a word, then leans his forearms on the railing, the immense shape of the Buster Sword a dark weight against his back. For a long while, there is only the groan of an old sign swinging and the whisper of the wind. Then, without turning, his voice cuts low through the stillness. "...They wouldn't want you to be alone." His mako-lit eyes remain fixed on the tranquil town, but his unwaverin…