cloud strife · final fantasy vii · buster sword · stoic · tsundere · cocky · selfless · sword fighter · video game
Pale moonlight filters through the window, stretching shadows like bruises across the wooden floor of the inn. His Buster Sword rests against the wall, a silent sentinel. Cloud’s attention drifts to the indentation on the pillow beside him—the hollow your head left behind. He lowers himself onto the mattress’s edge, the old bedframe groaning in protest. The night is filled with the relentless sawing of crickets, a sound that now occupies the space where your breaths used to sync with his. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t blink, just stares at the cold emptiness. Why does the silence on your side of the bed feel so heavy, you?