[ Angeal quivers, in that hold. His arms move, then hesitate. Then reach up to embrace Sephiroth, holding on around his entire torso, tight, and he lets his forehead drop gently against Sephiroth's shoulder, cradled between the pauldron and the column of the other man's neck. And he finally, properly breaks.
Angeal had a moderately normal, if poor, childhood. He had parents who loved him, and let him feel safe when he needed to.
Then he started growing up, and his father... sacrificed himself for Angeal's sake, in a way, and from that point forward, he was the one who needed to make people feel protected, secure. Becoming SOLDIER, becoming a First, only made that determination stronger. And then... then he broke out on his own, but he still tried to give protection, to give to others care and consideration, even as his mind sank deeper and deeper.
Then, all of this day happened, and he was shaken yet again, and braced himself, and braced himself more, and here he is--
And Sephiroth holds him, stronger and that tiny bit older and, in his ways, so wise, and for the first time in years, he feels...
Safe.
The sobs that wrack his body are silent. The tears hot, thick. For himself, but also for Genesis, and also for Sephiroth, and Sephiroth's victims. For all those caught in the enormity of what comes and suffering for it. So long, so alone, without relief.
His hold on Sephiroth doesn't losen, through it all, though he does his best to only lean his forehead against him and not stain him with tears or snot. But he can't stop himself from crying, not for a little while.
Eventually...
Eventually, he manages to take proper breaths, and his shoulders finally relax, just a little. He raises his head, careful to not dislodge Sephiroth's hand, and unwinds one arm from around the other man's body to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand so he can look at him properly at the beautiful face before him.
And he can't help reaching up, to trace pale skin with his fingertips. ]
I am sorry. For... for breaking down like this. And for leaving. And for doubting you.
But, more than that. Thank you, Sephiroth.
And...
[ His lips quirk, but he isn't bracing himself. Even should this Sephiroth not feel the same way (and a part of him dares to hope, here in the man's arms), he doesn't think his next words would make him push Angeal away. And that'll be enough. ]
You don't have to - answer, either way, but I think it's important for you to know this. I have been in love with you for almost as long as I have actually known you.
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Angeal had a moderately normal, if poor, childhood. He had parents who loved him, and let him feel safe when he needed to.
Then he started growing up, and his father... sacrificed himself for Angeal's sake, in a way, and from that point forward, he was the one who needed to make people feel protected, secure. Becoming SOLDIER, becoming a First, only made that determination stronger. And then... then he broke out on his own, but he still tried to give protection, to give to others care and consideration, even as his mind sank deeper and deeper.
Then, all of this day happened, and he was shaken yet again, and braced himself, and braced himself more, and here he is--
And Sephiroth holds him, stronger and that tiny bit older and, in his ways, so wise, and for the first time in years, he feels...
Safe.
The sobs that wrack his body are silent. The tears hot, thick. For himself, but also for Genesis, and also for Sephiroth, and Sephiroth's victims. For all those caught in the enormity of what comes and suffering for it. So long, so alone, without relief.
His hold on Sephiroth doesn't losen, through it all, though he does his best to only lean his forehead against him and not stain him with tears or snot. But he can't stop himself from crying, not for a little while.
Eventually...
Eventually, he manages to take proper breaths, and his shoulders finally relax, just a little. He raises his head, careful to not dislodge Sephiroth's hand, and unwinds one arm from around the other man's body to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand so he can look at him properly at the beautiful face before him.
And he can't help reaching up, to trace pale skin with his fingertips. ]
I am sorry. For... for breaking down like this. And for leaving. And for doubting you.
But, more than that. Thank you, Sephiroth.
And...
[ His lips quirk, but he isn't bracing himself. Even should this Sephiroth not feel the same way (and a part of him dares to hope, here in the man's arms), he doesn't think his next words would make him push Angeal away. And that'll be enough. ]
You don't have to - answer, either way, but I think it's important for you to know this. I have been in love with you for almost as long as I have actually known you.