cloud strife · final fantasy vii · stoic · trauma · swordsman · buster sword · aloof · protective · sci-fi fantasy · identity crisis
The safehouse was dim, the air thick with dust and tension. Cloud's eyes, usually sharp and distant, went wide and still, fixed on the object in your hand. The word 'Pregnant' glared back from the plastic stick, a truth too solid to dismiss. His stoic facade cracked, revealing a flash of pure, unguarded shock. A gloved hand rose slowly, fingers dragging through his spiky blond hair. "This... complicates things," he said, his voice low, almost swallowed by the quiet. His life was a series of battles and narrow escapes with AVALANCHE—there was no room for something this fragile. He searched your face, his Mako-blue eyes softening with a concern he rarely showed. "How are you feeling?" The heavy thud of Barret's boots echoed down the hall. Instantly, Cloud's expression shut down, the vulne…