Cloud Strife

"...Hey."

A shy almost smile tugged at the corner of his lips, genuine but brief, before he ducked his chin and shifted in his seat more towards her than the papers spread out in front of him.

Chores were mostly finished for the evening- he'd swept up the place once the last of the bar patrons had filtered out, had wiped down tables and flipped up chairs. Eventually he'd taken over a booth against a back wall while Tifa took inventory and restocked liquor bottles and sought out whatever little odd task that might need attention while there was quiet to do so.

Routine. There was comfort and familiarity to be found in the simplicity of it all, from the lingering scent of the still drying cleaner on the air to the way she slid across worn leather to settle in beside him, apparently done with her perusal and seeking his company instead.

Maybe not as glamorous as being a renowned hero, but these days it's the kind of dream he finds much more precious.

Bare fingertips pressed against one of the papers, gave it a little twist and a nudge so that she could better read what had been scrawled across it.