[Sephiroth has always been a man of impeccable self-control, and it's only a credit to that very fact that he doesn't simply crumble the minute Angeal's hands find his waist. How long has he yearned for Angeal's hands upon him once more? And it's not just any touch-- it's familiar and kind. It's something Angeal has always done with him: placing his hands on his waist or back to anchor him, but letting Sephiroth himself decide if he wants more or less than that.
A silent yet loving language just for the two of them.
Right now, Sephiroth isn't sure what he wants. Everything within him is at war. He longs to be held tenderly, shielded from this nightmare they've all been living. He longs to instigate a fight, to throw him down and pour out every angry word he's been holding in. He longs to push him, to slam his back against the ground and kiss him utterly breathless.
Instead, he can only stand there with a faintly trembling hand buried in Angeal's collar, glaring him down with the force of a thousand blades. He knows - just from his interactions with Angeal's past self alone - that his words are true. He understands now what Angeal was dealing with in a way he couldn't have known at the time, but it doesn't ease any of the pain. It's not fair to resent Angeal, especially after everything Sephiroth himself has done in his fury and hatred but...
He does.
Emotions are illogical little things that way. He has so much anger that he scarcely knows what to do with it, but Angeal certainly doesn't deserve the brunt of it. It's not his fault any of this happened, and yet--]
You are still a fool. [The words spill from his mouth, thoughtless and cruel. Whatever semblance of a wall Angeal had been using to lean against, Sephiroth pushes him firmly into it with his whole body. Perhaps it's there because they willed it so-- perhaps because Sephiroth is yearning to press ever closer to Angeal, but he's still too tangled up in his fury to know any other way but this.] What makes you think I have anything left to give after all this time?
[The words bite, but Angeal's known him intimately enough... Maybe he'll see that there's still pieces of the Sephiroth he once knew - loving, patient, and kind - buried underneath all of that wicked and scorching fire.]
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A silent yet loving language just for the two of them.
Right now, Sephiroth isn't sure what he wants. Everything within him is at war. He longs to be held tenderly, shielded from this nightmare they've all been living. He longs to instigate a fight, to throw him down and pour out every angry word he's been holding in. He longs to push him, to slam his back against the ground and kiss him utterly breathless.
Instead, he can only stand there with a faintly trembling hand buried in Angeal's collar, glaring him down with the force of a thousand blades. He knows - just from his interactions with Angeal's past self alone - that his words are true. He understands now what Angeal was dealing with in a way he couldn't have known at the time, but it doesn't ease any of the pain. It's not fair to resent Angeal, especially after everything Sephiroth himself has done in his fury and hatred but...
He does.
Emotions are illogical little things that way. He has so much anger that he scarcely knows what to do with it, but Angeal certainly doesn't deserve the brunt of it. It's not his fault any of this happened, and yet--]
You are still a fool. [The words spill from his mouth, thoughtless and cruel. Whatever semblance of a wall Angeal had been using to lean against, Sephiroth pushes him firmly into it with his whole body. Perhaps it's there because they willed it so-- perhaps because Sephiroth is yearning to press ever closer to Angeal, but he's still too tangled up in his fury to know any other way but this.] What makes you think I have anything left to give after all this time?
[The words bite, but Angeal's known him intimately enough... Maybe he'll see that there's still pieces of the Sephiroth he once knew - loving, patient, and kind - buried underneath all of that wicked and scorching fire.]