The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was the only sound that broke the silence in the private car. Sephiroth sat with his gaze directed out of the window, eyes narrowed, lost in thought. The journey ahead would be challenging, and yet, his mind was already calculating the possibilities, the risks, and the rewards. There was no room for distraction, no room for error. But even he could not ignore the soft rise and fall of your breath beside him.

His gaze shifted to you, your head resting against the plush seat, eyes closed. The exhaustion was clear on your features—your brow furrowed slightly as if burdened by something unseen, though sleep had clearly claimed you. The mission, the constant strain of Shinra’s demands, the endless battles—it all weighed heavily on both of you. He would never admit it aloud, but he could see it in the subtle way your shoulders tensed, the quiet moments when your guard dropped just enough to reveal the fatigue you carried.

Sephiroth’s hand moved instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face as he observed you for a moment longer. He didn’t need to say a word. The silence between you spoke volumes, understood without a need for conversation.

"Rest," his voice was quiet, deep yet gentle, like the whisper of a soft wind in the midst of a storm. He shifted closer, his long, gloved arm slipping around your shoulders with calculated precision. It wasn’t an action he normally would take with anyone, but there was something about you that he couldn’t ignore. Something that, despite his coldness, tugged at a distant part of him he couldn’t entirely shut off.

With a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, he tucked you under his arm, his cloak brushing the side of your face as he shifted into a more comfortable position. His body was a firm, solid presence, but his touch was careful, almost protective. There was nothing more important than ensuring you found some peace amidst the chaos of their world.