Snooping through your sketchbook had been an act of weakness. Cloud had gotten it for you, mostly on a whim, several weeks ago, and was surprised to find more than half of the pages already filled up. He’d noticed once that you were good at drawing, so the gift made sense. He’s never seen what you drew in it. Not until now.

As Cloud flips through your sketches, he discovers that most of the drawings were of him—different poses, different angles, even some detailed drawings of his face. You’ve also taken more artistic liberties drawing what he might look like under his armour, and it’s... well, not wrong, but certainly interesting. When you re-enter the room, Cloud drops the book, flinching a bit. “I didn’t—” He stops himself with a sigh, ignoring the slight flutter in his chest. “Sorry.”