[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.
[ Physically, he relishes the slam against the wall. He even relishes the blazing glare at him.
The words, on the other hand, make him slip one step closer to the ever-yawning abyss of self-hate that he has barely crawled out of, and some of the light leaves his eyes. This is his doing. He did betray promises, and he did leave Sephiroth alone, and he deserves this.
But he doesn't look away, or let the hurt show much beyond that. His hands come up to the small of Sephiroth's back, beneath the wing. ]
Got it.
[ He is not here for himself, after all. He is here for Sephiroth, and to begin to atone by alleviating this loneliness. He is just... very, very far from even beginning that atonement, very obviously.
[Even after all this time, with so many of his memories muddied and half-there, Sephiroth hasn't forgotten the way Angeal looks when he's been wounded. Even when he maintains nearly perfect composure, there's a switch that goes off in his eyes. Pain turned inwards-- a knife he uses to drive into his own heart. Sephiroth's words have soundly hit their mark, but...
He doesn't know if it satisfies him or if it simply makes him angrier that Angeal accepts his snarling words without so much as a fight. And then he's sliding his hands along the small of his back and--
There's another flare of something. Sephiroth doesn't know anymore, but-- the audacity to still move his hands so sweetly against his back after Sephiroth has viciously aimed to tear at Angeal's heart. Somewhere underneath the flames, his chest aches again. Angeal choosing kindness in the face of Sephiroth choosing to inflict pain-- it feels like a blade cutting soundly into his ribcage, and there's a breath of a moment where Sephiroth starts to falter, to rethink.
His grip on Angeal's jaw loosens suddenly.]
"Got it"? [A scoff...] Is that the best you can do?
[ Angeal's own heart aches with the familiar words brought back to him. Not thrown in his face, not quite, but without the lightness of a game as they have been addressed to him before. His own reaction is conditioned, a breath out and lowering of his eyebrows... and not being goaded, because he knows, they both know, that he will never let loose against Sephiroth.
Instead, a corner of his mouth twitches up. ]
I don't think promising you I'll do better will help?
[ His expression softens. ]
And I am sorry that I fucked up like I did. [ Oh, more than anything he can even begin expressing. ] But those are just words. You deserve better.
[ It is as simple as that. In the end, until his deeds match the words, Sephiroth is right. He might as well keep his flowery promises to himself. ]
[Maybe that's part of what's so infuriating about all of this. Sephiroth is hellbent on instigating a fight, or at least drawing some form of aggression out of Angeal, and Angeal continues to meet him with patience. More patience than he rightfully deserves.
And that's the sticking point for Sephiroth, really. What he deserves. Because it certainly isn't soft hands and kind words, and Angeal insinuating that he does just makes him bristle all over again.]
And what would you know of what I deserve? Where were you while my hands wrought unthinkable destruction? I came within a breath of destroying this Planet in its entirety, Angeal, and even then, you were absent.
It goes far deeper than simply doing better.
My hands are irrevocably stained with the blood of thousands. Blood that I gladly bathed in-- all while you wallowed in self-loathing. The man you once loved is dead, Angeal. All that stands before you now is but a harbinger of death, and if you came here seeking anything different, then you are a damned fool.
Do not dare speak to me about what I deserve.
[There's nothing gentle at all about the way Sephiroth relinquishes Angeal, with one last shove against the wall before he turns and starts storming back down the hallway.]
[ Angeal doesn't flinch at the words, and he doesn't flinch when he's pushed away, but he doesn't hesitate to push off from it and follow. ]
Do you think I could find you without seeing what has happened? I know, Sephiroth. I know what my wallowing and confusion did to you. That is why I am not seeking who you used to be. I'm not who I used to be, either, and my failures which led to your suffering, and then aided your rage, are mine to bear, to remember, and to do better.
And I've sought death before. It didn't exactly give me anything worth having - I told you. I'm here to take from you. And certainly not fake relief.
What's done is done. Neither of us can undo it, and I wish I could. But what I deprived you of, then, I'm here to give now - and you won't be rid of me. You may not be who I knew. But you are still yourself.
And if there is one person I can dedicate myself to, it's you. Even after all that you did and almost did.
[Angeal is following him, determined to say his piece. Sephiroth nearly makes it to the portal before Angeal's words finally slow him down, beckoning him to turn sharply on his heel. His eyes are sharp, his body still bristling with anger. But... then slowly, Sephiroth tilts his chin up, his expression gradually easing into well-practiced indifference.]
And if I don't want it? If I don't want you?
[He wouldn't be fooling anyone. Not after the way he pinned Angeal to the wall, chasing after his mouth like a starved animal but moments ago. Certainly not when he'd brought him here of all places and with the intent of ravaging him senseless no less.
Maybe, in some misguided way, he thinks he's protecting Angeal from him by behaving this way. Because, no matter how much he may still yearn and ache for this man, Sephiroth knows his hands only bring pain and destruction. And Angeal is too complacent to take it, to keep giving without regard for his own well-being, thinking it's deserved. Sephiroth has already slipped too far-- snarling ugly things in his profound anger and reaching for Angeal in violence rather than gentleness. He'd just defied Fate itself to save a past version of him, only to defile the one who once belonged to him with bitterness and fury.
It's not right. He's not so far gone that he can't see that in this moment of clarity. All he'll do is mar an already broken man further, and it leaves a snarled knot in his stomach. He's not capable of healing either one of them.]
[ 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.
[It's ever so carefully measured, the way Sephiroth watches Angeal. Studies him. Analyzes the way he twirls his hair between his fingers, the way he almost smiles, the unafraid way he stands with his back straight and eyes unwavering.
It seems like his mind is made up, and those words have certainly struck a nerve. ...A different one, this time. Instead of anger, he's met with a new kind of overwhelming emotion that he's not sure how to quantify. He doesn't particularly want to, because it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like any of this.
Angeal was an honorable man, a compassionate man. Still is, after all this time. And Sephiroth just can't fathom how he can want to spend whatever time they have with a murderer. No-- not even that. He's always been a monster in its truest form. If there's one thing meddling with timelines has taught him, it's that his hands will always be bound for blood and destruction. Not kindness. Not normalcy. Not love… He turns his head away, letting a cascade of silver hair obscure his face.]
...Idiot. You only chain yourself to misery here.
[But the fury has mostly bled out of his voice, out of the sharp lines in his back and shoulders. He seems less interested in clawing Angeal's heart in two. If anything, he… seems to be looking elsewhere. Somewhere far away, lost.
Hate breeds hate. It's a cycle that can't be broken. …But it can. Right, Glenn? All it takes is a little compassion.
Ever so faintly, Sephiroth lets go of a shuddered breath at the memory, unbidden, washing over him like a tidal wave. Angeal… He knows that all too well, doesn't he? Standing here, choosing to hold Sephiroth's shattered heart even when it insists only on cutting him. His fingers slowly curl into tight fists at his sides, leather creaking. He starts to turn towards the portal again, but he pauses halfway through– like he can't decide if he wishes to leave or stay.]
[ Angeal was an honorable man. But he gave up on his honor the moment he considered himself a monster.
Monsters have no honor.
Compassion... compassion, on the other hand, he has refused to surrender, other than for himself - whatever shreds of it he had held on to before, he had let go of with the first beat of his wing. It was a long, hard road, to find out how it mattered at all, that compassion. Until he found a way, before Hollander twisted the knife in his chest with finality - a war to fight all suffering. It is why he could not return to Shinra, back then, for they caused much of the suffering he saw, but they stopped some, too. Hence, he could not join Genesis against them, either.
Compassion is also, yes, why he found a glimmer of hope, eventually, in the personal hell he had dropped himself into. And compassion led him to Sephiroth, his precious Sephiroth who was so broken, by Angeal himself included, and used and abused by force far too great to win against. Why he hopes - not for himself, still, but for this man. ]
I've called myself that, and worse.
But not for being yours.
[ Do as you will.
This time, it's Angeal's hand that wraps around Sephiroth's collar, holding him in place as he steps closer and claims a kiss. ]
[But not for being yours, Angeal says, and another scoff presses out from between Sephiroth's tongue and teeth. Perhaps you should, is what he's about to say, until Angeal's hand finds the collar of his jacket, anchoring him in place. He's promptly silenced by that familiar mouth pressing against his own; he doesn't fight it or attempt to jerk himself away from the man.
If anything, he - without thinking - starts to chase after Angeal's lips when the kiss breaks before he remembers himself. Even now, like this, Angeal still has a powerful sway over him... just like he always has. And for trying to pretend like that's no longer the case? Sephiroth is an idiot, too. He still thinks he's trapping Angeal here somehow, still doesn't like it, but...
Angeal is a stubborn, stubborn man.
If he's determined to stay, there's no force on Gaia that will move him. He's always been that way-- the sturdy mountain of their little group. Immovable yet sheltering.
And for the first time, that leaves Sephiroth unsure of what to do in this moment. His desire hasn't exactly cooled, and the anger is only tempered to a manageable level, but... they've broken a little ground here, too. Not quite soft-- and it won't be for a while. Not until Sephiroth works through his catastrophically tangled mess of emotions.
But it's a step in the right direction.
Eventually, however... Sephiroth settles on seeking an answer to the question that's been burning in his lungs ever since Angeal began offering him kind words and forgiveness.]
...Why? If you've seen what I've become, then you know there is nothing here worth staying for.
[ Angeal doesn't let go, nor does he step back far, but he doesn't press himself closer, either. Letting Sephiroth find his own pace... and processing himself, also, what did happen. Taking the moment, too, to consider properly why things broke, and, yes, he can see, a little, how him taking in the pain would have turned Sephiroth away - not from Angeal. But from Sephiroth himself.
Ah.
Why...
He doesn't flinch back at the question, but he does consider, eyes still on Sephiroth. ]
There are many answers to that one. Some are selfish, others painful, and the deepest ones probably hard to believe, and all of them are true.
I want you. I see nothing for myself unless I am by your side, and I don't see anything getting better for you unless I am by yours, too. I need to atone, for leaving you alone when you needed me most. I also want to find out who you are now. Yes, you did horrible things, but how much was you not fighting another's will, and how much is what you would have done free of it? It makes a difference to me, even if nothing can take back what has been done.
When all is said and done...
The men we used to be are gone. The men who were heroes, the men who wanted to end that which creates suffering. [ His shoulders drip in shame, just a little, but he doesn't let his gaze drop. ] I'm here because I believe there is someone worth staying for, right in front of me. Who is in constant pain, and sees no path forward that makes any difference. And I want to find that hidden path. With you. I want to find out who we will become. Together, as we always should have been.
Why? Because even as you are, you are still my light in the darkness. Even if you don't believe you can be. Even if I am drawn like a moth to a flame - it is better than despair. But I won't burn that easily.
[Angeal's words reach him, and it only makes Sephiroth want to retreat further back behind his icy veneer. He's not ready to confront being wanted, being made someone else's purpose, and certainly not having his sins forgiven. Something wavers in Sephiroth's sharp eyes, something he's quick to strangle down beneath his anger and obstinance.]
No. Do not try to make me your light, Angeal. That is a weight I cannot carry-- for you or anyone else.
[Because damn if he hasn't already tried. Cloud saved him from Jenova, showed him how to be something approaching human again, but even then-- Sephiroth continued to hurt him despite every dogged attempt not to. He tried to be a man deserving of love and kindness, and never quite measured up. If he couldn't even do that for Cloud, how the hell is he supposed to do it for Angeal?]
You're putting me on a pedastal I don't want. [...Or deserve.] Furthermore... the way you speak of me tells me you grasp little of the gravity of my actions-- or that I was complicit in much of it. Jenova was but a piece of the puzzle.
I - alone - wanted the world to burn. [And some part of him still does. The only thing that has stopped him from being subsumed by that fury all over again is Cloud. And now-- Angeal is here - alive - again, speaking of wanting to forge a new path together and carve their own little place in the world again and--]
You don't understand--
[A stark-white pain splits through Sephiroth's skull, jarring a hiss from him. He jerks free of Angeal's grasp to turn away, cradling his face in a gloved hand. It's a familiar pain. Jenova. She always tries to eke in when Sephiroth begins to question, to doubt, to fall apart. He's had plenty of practice at warding her off, but-- she's too much a part of him for Sephiroth to ever truly be free. After all, that's why the Lifestream has refused him again, and again, and again--
She finally quiets... Sephiroth's voice is much softer when he speaks again-- but twice as sharp.]
...If you stay, I will hurt you.
[It's not a question or a threat. It's simply the truth.]
[ His voice is low and quiet, and rather than the near question which might make Sephiroth think the doubts him (he thinks it's not the entire truth), he adds, ]
Then let it be so.
[ It's not the entire truth, not with the pain that he can see coming to his man. And he doesn't try to hold Sephiroth again, but he does place one warm palm on his back, above the wing. ]
I'll be ready when you do hurt me. But, just as certain as you are that you will, I know that, if I'm not next to you, I'll be hurting us both. Every moment.
I won't make you my light. But, please. Pain and pleasure, despair and reality. Let me be your Angeal again.
[That hand on Sephiroth's back, so temptingly close to his wing, beckons an instinctual reaction. But he's not quite sure if its a pleasant shiver or a tense bristle. Maybe a little bit of both. He listens intently as Angeal asserts that he's prepared to be hurt, and finds himself wondering how prepared he really is. If he really knows what he's signing up for.
Let me be your Angeal again.
How long has he yearned to hear those words? ...And yet, all he can do is snap his walls up soundly around himself and pull away.]
If that is your wish, so be it... But allow me to make one thing perfectly clear.
[He pivots again, just enough that Angeal is met with the full force of that icy serpentine stare of his. Intent. Deadly serious.]
Should you leave again, you will not be welcome here. Don't bother coming back.
[He doesn't have the strength of heart to forgive another betrayal. He's too bitter, too angry. Not just at Angeal but then world in its entirety. As it stands, it's already going to take time and patience from them both before they're in a place where Sephiroth feels capable of relenting to moments of sweetness.
His love for Angeal is a double-edged sword right now. It hasn't faded at all in its intensity and depth, but it's because of that that he can't quite bring himself to trust him yet. Angeal has already left twice, and Sephiroth's heart will irreparably shatter if he lets him in only for him to leave a third time.
Angeal will need to prove that he can be his Angeal again.]
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no subject
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.]
no subject
The words, on the other hand, make him slip one step closer to the ever-yawning abyss of self-hate that he has barely crawled out of, and some of the light leaves his eyes. This is his doing. He did betray promises, and he did leave Sephiroth alone, and he deserves this.
But he doesn't look away, or let the hurt show much beyond that. His hands come up to the small of Sephiroth's back, beneath the wing. ]
Got it.
[ He is not here for himself, after all. He is here for Sephiroth, and to begin to atone by alleviating this loneliness. He is just... very, very far from even beginning that atonement, very obviously.
That doesn't shake his resolve.
Nor cool his desire. ]
no subject
He doesn't know if it satisfies him or if it simply makes him angrier that Angeal accepts his snarling words without so much as a fight. And then he's sliding his hands along the small of his back and--
There's another flare of something. Sephiroth doesn't know anymore, but-- the audacity to still move his hands so sweetly against his back after Sephiroth has viciously aimed to tear at Angeal's heart. Somewhere underneath the flames, his chest aches again. Angeal choosing kindness in the face of Sephiroth choosing to inflict pain-- it feels like a blade cutting soundly into his ribcage, and there's a breath of a moment where Sephiroth starts to falter, to rethink.
His grip on Angeal's jaw loosens suddenly.]
"Got it"? [A scoff...] Is that the best you can do?
no subject
Instead, a corner of his mouth twitches up. ]
I don't think promising you I'll do better will help?
[ His expression softens. ]
And I am sorry that I fucked up like I did. [ Oh, more than anything he can even begin expressing. ] But those are just words. You deserve better.
[ It is as simple as that. In the end, until his deeds match the words, Sephiroth is right. He might as well keep his flowery promises to himself. ]
no subject
And that's the sticking point for Sephiroth, really. What he deserves. Because it certainly isn't soft hands and kind words, and Angeal insinuating that he does just makes him bristle all over again.]
And what would you know of what I deserve? Where were you while my hands wrought unthinkable destruction? I came within a breath of destroying this Planet in its entirety, Angeal, and even then, you were absent.
It goes far deeper than simply doing better.
My hands are irrevocably stained with the blood of thousands. Blood that I gladly bathed in-- all while you wallowed in self-loathing. The man you once loved is dead, Angeal. All that stands before you now is but a harbinger of death, and if you came here seeking anything different, then you are a damned fool.
Do not dare speak to me about what I deserve.
[There's nothing gentle at all about the way Sephiroth relinquishes Angeal, with one last shove against the wall before he turns and starts storming back down the hallway.]
no subject
Do you think I could find you without seeing what has happened? I know, Sephiroth. I know what my wallowing and confusion did to you. That is why I am not seeking who you used to be. I'm not who I used to be, either, and my failures which led to your suffering, and then aided your rage, are mine to bear, to remember, and to do better.
And I've sought death before. It didn't exactly give me anything worth having - I told you. I'm here to take from you. And certainly not fake relief.
What's done is done. Neither of us can undo it, and I wish I could. But what I deprived you of, then, I'm here to give now - and you won't be rid of me. You may not be who I knew. But you are still yourself.
And if there is one person I can dedicate myself to, it's you. Even after all that you did and almost did.
no subject
And if I don't want it? If I don't want you?
[He wouldn't be fooling anyone. Not after the way he pinned Angeal to the wall, chasing after his mouth like a starved animal but moments ago. Certainly not when he'd brought him here of all places and with the intent of ravaging him senseless no less.
Maybe, in some misguided way, he thinks he's protecting Angeal from him by behaving this way. Because, no matter how much he may still yearn and ache for this man, Sephiroth knows his hands only bring pain and destruction. And Angeal is too complacent to take it, to keep giving without regard for his own well-being, thinking it's deserved. Sephiroth has already slipped too far-- snarling ugly things in his profound anger and reaching for Angeal in violence rather than gentleness. He'd just defied Fate itself to save a past version of him, only to defile the one who once belonged to him with bitterness and fury.
It's not right. He's not so far gone that he can't see that in this moment of clarity. All he'll do is mar an already broken man further, and it leaves a snarled knot in his stomach. He's not capable of healing either one of them.]
no subject
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.
no subject
It seems like his mind is made up, and those words have certainly struck a nerve. ...A different one, this time. Instead of anger, he's met with a new kind of overwhelming emotion that he's not sure how to quantify. He doesn't particularly want to, because it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like any of this.
Angeal was an honorable man, a compassionate man. Still is, after all this time. And Sephiroth just can't fathom how he can want to spend whatever time they have with a murderer. No-- not even that. He's always been a monster in its truest form. If there's one thing meddling with timelines has taught him, it's that his hands will always be bound for blood and destruction. Not kindness. Not normalcy. Not love… He turns his head away, letting a cascade of silver hair obscure his face.]
...Idiot. You only chain yourself to misery here.
[But the fury has mostly bled out of his voice, out of the sharp lines in his back and shoulders. He seems less interested in clawing Angeal's heart in two. If anything, he… seems to be looking elsewhere. Somewhere far away, lost.
Hate breeds hate. It's a cycle that can't be broken. …But it can. Right, Glenn? All it takes is a little compassion.
Ever so faintly, Sephiroth lets go of a shuddered breath at the memory, unbidden, washing over him like a tidal wave. Angeal… He knows that all too well, doesn't he? Standing here, choosing to hold Sephiroth's shattered heart even when it insists only on cutting him. His fingers slowly curl into tight fists at his sides, leather creaking. He starts to turn towards the portal again, but he pauses halfway through– like he can't decide if he wishes to leave or stay.]
--But do as you will.
no subject
Monsters have no honor.
Compassion... compassion, on the other hand, he has refused to surrender, other than for himself - whatever shreds of it he had held on to before, he had let go of with the first beat of his wing. It was a long, hard road, to find out how it mattered at all, that compassion. Until he found a way, before Hollander twisted the knife in his chest with finality - a war to fight all suffering. It is why he could not return to Shinra, back then, for they caused much of the suffering he saw, but they stopped some, too. Hence, he could not join Genesis against them, either.
Compassion is also, yes, why he found a glimmer of hope, eventually, in the personal hell he had dropped himself into. And compassion led him to Sephiroth, his precious Sephiroth who was so broken, by Angeal himself included, and used and abused by force far too great to win against. Why he hopes - not for himself, still, but for this man. ]
I've called myself that, and worse.
But not for being yours.
[ Do as you will.
This time, it's Angeal's hand that wraps around Sephiroth's collar, holding him in place as he steps closer and claims a kiss. ]
This. This is what I will.
no subject
If anything, he - without thinking - starts to chase after Angeal's lips when the kiss breaks before he remembers himself. Even now, like this, Angeal still has a powerful sway over him... just like he always has. And for trying to pretend like that's no longer the case? Sephiroth is an idiot, too. He still thinks he's trapping Angeal here somehow, still doesn't like it, but...
Angeal is a stubborn, stubborn man.
If he's determined to stay, there's no force on Gaia that will move him. He's always been that way-- the sturdy mountain of their little group. Immovable yet sheltering.
And for the first time, that leaves Sephiroth unsure of what to do in this moment. His desire hasn't exactly cooled, and the anger is only tempered to a manageable level, but... they've broken a little ground here, too. Not quite soft-- and it won't be for a while. Not until Sephiroth works through his catastrophically tangled mess of emotions.
But it's a step in the right direction.
Eventually, however... Sephiroth settles on seeking an answer to the question that's been burning in his lungs ever since Angeal began offering him kind words and forgiveness.]
...Why? If you've seen what I've become, then you know there is nothing here worth staying for.
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Ah.
Why...
He doesn't flinch back at the question, but he does consider, eyes still on Sephiroth. ]
There are many answers to that one. Some are selfish, others painful, and the deepest ones probably hard to believe, and all of them are true.
I want you. I see nothing for myself unless I am by your side, and I don't see anything getting better for you unless I am by yours, too. I need to atone, for leaving you alone when you needed me most. I also want to find out who you are now. Yes, you did horrible things, but how much was you not fighting another's will, and how much is what you would have done free of it? It makes a difference to me, even if nothing can take back what has been done.
When all is said and done...
The men we used to be are gone. The men who were heroes, the men who wanted to end that which creates suffering. [ His shoulders drip in shame, just a little, but he doesn't let his gaze drop. ] I'm here because I believe there is someone worth staying for, right in front of me. Who is in constant pain, and sees no path forward that makes any difference. And I want to find that hidden path. With you. I want to find out who we will become. Together, as we always should have been.
Why? Because even as you are, you are still my light in the darkness. Even if you don't believe you can be. Even if I am drawn like a moth to a flame - it is better than despair. But I won't burn that easily.
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No. Do not try to make me your light, Angeal. That is a weight I cannot carry-- for you or anyone else.
[Because damn if he hasn't already tried. Cloud saved him from Jenova, showed him how to be something approaching human again, but even then-- Sephiroth continued to hurt him despite every dogged attempt not to. He tried to be a man deserving of love and kindness, and never quite measured up. If he couldn't even do that for Cloud, how the hell is he supposed to do it for Angeal?]
You're putting me on a pedastal I don't want. [...Or deserve.] Furthermore... the way you speak of me tells me you grasp little of the gravity of my actions-- or that I was complicit in much of it. Jenova was but a piece of the puzzle.
I - alone - wanted the world to burn. [And some part of him still does. The only thing that has stopped him from being subsumed by that fury all over again is Cloud. And now-- Angeal is here - alive - again, speaking of wanting to forge a new path together and carve their own little place in the world again and--]
You don't understand--
[A stark-white pain splits through Sephiroth's skull, jarring a hiss from him. He jerks free of Angeal's grasp to turn away, cradling his face in a gloved hand. It's a familiar pain. Jenova. She always tries to eke in when Sephiroth begins to question, to doubt, to fall apart. He's had plenty of practice at warding her off, but-- she's too much a part of him for Sephiroth to ever truly be free. After all, that's why the Lifestream has refused him again, and again, and again--
She finally quiets... Sephiroth's voice is much softer when he speaks again-- but twice as sharp.]
...If you stay, I will hurt you.
[It's not a question or a threat. It's simply the truth.]
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[ His voice is low and quiet, and rather than the near question which might make Sephiroth think the doubts him (he thinks it's not the entire truth), he adds, ]
Then let it be so.
[ It's not the entire truth, not with the pain that he can see coming to his man. And he doesn't try to hold Sephiroth again, but he does place one warm palm on his back, above the wing. ]
I'll be ready when you do hurt me. But, just as certain as you are that you will, I know that, if I'm not next to you, I'll be hurting us both. Every moment.
I won't make you my light. But, please. Pain and pleasure, despair and reality. Let me be your Angeal again.
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Let me be your Angeal again.
How long has he yearned to hear those words? ...And yet, all he can do is snap his walls up soundly around himself and pull away.]
If that is your wish, so be it... But allow me to make one thing perfectly clear.
[He pivots again, just enough that Angeal is met with the full force of that icy serpentine stare of his. Intent. Deadly serious.]
Should you leave again, you will not be welcome here. Don't bother coming back.
[He doesn't have the strength of heart to forgive another betrayal. He's too bitter, too angry. Not just at Angeal but then world in its entirety. As it stands, it's already going to take time and patience from them both before they're in a place where Sephiroth feels capable of relenting to moments of sweetness.
His love for Angeal is a double-edged sword right now. It hasn't faded at all in its intensity and depth, but it's because of that that he can't quite bring himself to trust him yet. Angeal has already left twice, and Sephiroth's heart will irreparably shatter if he lets him in only for him to leave a third time.
Angeal will need to prove that he can be his Angeal again.]
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