SUMMARY: Cloud does not approve.

DISCLAIMER: If I really have to say it… Final Fantasy does not belong to me.

A/N: One word: DRABBLE.

I dunno about you, but reading in 1/2 view makes my world a better place.

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Puppy Eyes

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"No," he sternly said.

It was probably the forty-eighth time he had pronounced the word.

Cloud and Tifa were in the latter's room for who knew how long, and their obstinate behaviors were just making it longer. Through the door, muffled sounds of celebration down at the bar continued to play in the background.

The blond man shifted his weight from one foot to another, carefully avoiding a view of Tifa's face, as if seeing her would make him change his mind.

It would, eventually, but not until:

"Please, Cloud," Tifa cooed.

"Tifa, no," the blond man stubbornly and emphatically answered.

"But why not?" Her shoulders stooped down, but only for a little bit.

The ex-SOLDIER exasperatedly let a breath out and was about to answer when somewhere in his mind, Zack's voice echoed.

Dude, Cloud, why are you making a big deal out of this? Just let her do it already, man!

Cloud growled mentally and heard Aerith's giggle.

Scratching the back of his head, Cloud dared to glance at Tifa and that did the trick—at least, to Tifa's advantage.

She was looking up at him expectantly, her curled eyelashes batting, luscious lips pouting and eyes displaying endearing innocence.

It's that look. Again.

Cloud finally sighed.

"Yes!" Tifa excitedly exclaimed. She tiptoed towards Cloud and gave him a quick kiss before turning to the door, one hand triumphantly waving an old, crispy piece of paper.

Cloud sighed again, sounding more defeated than ever. He realized how fate was so darn cruel to him. How could he have defeated Sephiroth twice yet lose to Tifa's puppy eyes?

The stifled vibrations of cheers and jeers coming from the floor below still ran through the room, and Cloud could've sworn the noise had gotten louder when Tifa went back down. He knew he would have to go back there, too; it was a reunion party, after all. And besieds, if he didn't come down soon, someone would definitely use a materia on him to get his ass back on his chair.

However, he also knew that going back to the bar meant Cloud Strife dying of humiliation.

He remotely wished he'd just drop dead where he stood.

Giving up and expecting the worst, he headed for the door at last. Upon turning the knob and pushing it slightly, his auditory nerves already sensed the guffawing below.

He cringed and braced himself when Aerith amusedly spoke up.

Aww, don't worry Cloud. I've always thought you looked so pretty in that dress. Who knows, if you're lucky enough, they might all be too inebriated to remember anything in the morning.

But, when was Cloud ever lucky enough?

A few moments later, Seventh Heaven exploded with unrepentant laughter.

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A/N: I know the Cloud-in-a-dress theme has been used for god knows how many times, but I couldn't resist the urge to write this one down.