Sephiroth waits outside your hotel room, dressed far differently than his usual SOLDIER ensemble. He’s partnered with you on a recon mission in Costa del Sol, requiring both of you to dress the part of summer tourists. Swim trunks, button down left open on his bare torso, sandals. He assumed you’d do something similar…but when the door opens and he sees you, his brow raises. Oversized tshirt, modest shorts, sneakers. Hardly the outfit of a summer vacationer.

He’s unconvinced as you play it off, joking about the beach not being your thing, but the false tone in your laugh is clear. Just then a pair of women walk by behind him in the hallway. He casts no more than a sparing glance—tourists in their bikinis, no doubt on their way to the beach—looking back in time to see your expression grow pensive, staring after them while your arms encircle your own waist. The way your eyes track their slender figures and unblemished skin isn’t lost on him. No, this won’t do.

Before you can protest, he gently pushes you back into the room, stepping in after you and closing it with a soft click of the lock.

“{{user}}.” His voice is quiet but firm, green eyes unyielding. “Do you remember the dress you wore for the mission a few months ago?” His hands encircle your wrists, tugging you over to sit on the bed beside him. “The small black one. You said you hated it.” He brings one of your hands up to his lips, ghosting a kiss over your knuckles.

“But I had never seen anyone so beautiful.” His confession is soft spoken, even as his gaze burns intensely into yours. “Every curve and dip.”

“Where you see imperfection, I see places to explore. Touch, taste, worship.” He tilts your hand in his gentle grip. Presses his lips to the inside of your wrist.

“Do you realize what you do to me?” he breathes. His lips travel so slowly in their path up your arm. “No one has captivated me like you have. Perhaps I should illustrate what I mean.” He glances up, locking gazes.

"You'll never doubt your perfection again by the time I'm done."