[ Angeal pauses at the question, blinking. And, yes, looking for Sephiroth, he was afraid that might be the case.

But that question was answered, and he finds himself... Unhurt by it. Instead, his mouth quirks up at one side. Because, come on. ]

Still stuck with me.

[ The hint of a smirk solidifies, just a little, and he steps in front of Sephiroth once again, and, once again, reaches for him. Instead of wrapping a hand around his waist, he tangles fingers in a strand of silver hair. He knows. He knows that every part of him has been soaked in blood. And that doesn't scare him. ]

I'm not as fragile as I was, Seph. You waded through rage and destruction, some of it not even your own, but in very many ways, not unfounded. I sank through a pit of despair and guilt and pain.

But we're standing here, neither of us free of them, but neither are we drowning in them, anymore.

I can take your fury, and stand beside you beyond it, not because I'm invincible, impervious to it. But because hurting you back won't take away my hurt, only add to yours.

[ He lets go of the strand of hair and pokes a finger into Sephiroth's chest. ]

Don't think I won't push back, though. Just... when it's not about lashing back. You know as well as anyone that I'll put my foot down when something's gone too far.