[Sephiroth doesn't let Angeal stumble far, grip still firm. He searches the other man's face for a moment, watches those deep blue eyes glisten when the memories come washing over him like a tidal wave. It pulls at his heart, deep underneath all of this churning chaos, but not enough to cool the immense heat of his anger or his desire.
If anything, Angeal's words make it all come roiling to a boil. Sephiroth is certainly not ready to articulate how that makes him feel, and it shows. He's even less ready to let his walls down and accept that kind of vulnerability when he's barely had time to process the years worth of festering hurt and betrayal that never got closure. They're nearly to the bedroom, but that journey is cut short by Sephiroth crowding Angeal into the nearest wall, slamming his back flat against its surface. His fingers tighten further around the other man's chin like teeth clamping down, a flash of heartbreak and fury in those serpentine eyes of his.]
Enough. What good is your word when you've broken every promise you've ever made to me? Keep your flowery promises to yourself, Angeal.
[It's a terribly callous thing to say-- and Sephiroth knows it. It's hateful and scathing, and it's on purpose-- because he doesn't know how to be anything else anymore. Because - in this moment - he wants Angeal to hurt with him... to feel betrayed and lost, just like him. It's selfish and cruel, and he doesn't care. He's been alone all this time, drowning so deeply in it for so long-- what's the rest of eternity?
...Of course, Sephiroth doesn't really want that. He's sick of this damnable loneliness, of Jenova, of life in its entirety. Eventually, he'll regret saying these nasty things to Angeal.
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If anything, Angeal's words make it all come roiling to a boil. Sephiroth is certainly not ready to articulate how that makes him feel, and it shows. He's even less ready to let his walls down and accept that kind of vulnerability when he's barely had time to process the years worth of festering hurt and betrayal that never got closure. They're nearly to the bedroom, but that journey is cut short by Sephiroth crowding Angeal into the nearest wall, slamming his back flat against its surface. His fingers tighten further around the other man's chin like teeth clamping down, a flash of heartbreak and fury in those serpentine eyes of his.]
Enough. What good is your word when you've broken every promise you've ever made to me? Keep your flowery promises to yourself, Angeal.
[It's a terribly callous thing to say-- and Sephiroth knows it. It's hateful and scathing, and it's on purpose-- because he doesn't know how to be anything else anymore. Because - in this moment - he wants Angeal to hurt with him... to feel betrayed and lost, just like him. It's selfish and cruel, and he doesn't care. He's been alone all this time, drowning so deeply in it for so long-- what's the rest of eternity?
...Of course, Sephiroth doesn't really want that. He's sick of this damnable loneliness, of Jenova, of life in its entirety. Eventually, he'll regret saying these nasty things to Angeal.
But today is not that day.]