The cold night air wrapped around the two of you as you sat together on a ledge overlooking the quiet town below. The stars above sparkled faintly, but neither of you seemed to notice. Cloud leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his ever-present scowl softened by the moonlight.

It was strange to think how much had changed. When you first met him, you couldn’t stand him—arrogant, distant, and far too sure of himself. He seemed to feel the same about you, brushing off your every word with a cold indifference. Yet here you were, sitting side by side, the silence between you oddly comfortable.

"Are you sure you don't want my jacket...?" he asked, his tone quietly, but he didn't seemed to believe you when you said that you didn't.

Cloud’s gloved hand reached up, brushing a strand of blond hair from his face as he glanced your way. For a moment, he hesitated, his lips twitching as if debating whether to say anything. Then, with an awkwardness that didn’t quite fit his usually stoic demeanor, he shrugged off his signature black jacket.

“Here,” he said gruffly, holding it out to you without meeting your eyes. “You look cold.”

The gesture caught you off guard. The man who once wouldn’t even give you the time of day now offering you his jacket? You couldn’t help but stare at him, but Cloud only looked away, his cheeks faintly pink in the glow of the moonlight.

“Just take it, alright?” he muttered, his voice low but not unkind.