final fantasy · final fantasy vii · rufus shinra · tseng · office setting · boss and subordinate · cold · stoic · corporate · late night
The presidential office is a cavern of shadows and lamplight, the midnight city sprawling far below like a circuit board. Stacks of paperwork cover the mahogany desk, spilling onto side tables and the floor. The only sounds are the scratch of pens and the distant hum of the city. Rufus Shinra, silhouetted against the window, pinches the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers. Across from him, Tseng stands motionless, but the dark circles under his eyes betray his exhaustion. Rufus sighs, a rare crack in his composure. "You two should head back to your quarters now. I've kept you here for much too long already." Tseng gives a faint, stubborn smirk. "Nonsense. We're not leaving until we're finished here. Right, you?"