[The weeks crawl by as Sephiroth once again tries to settle into a sense of normalcy. It should be easy, given his history with the company. The same office, the same job, the same level of influence; it’s like slipping into a pair of well-worn shoes, if not for the memory that plays on loop in his head. Meeting Cloud again had been a hitch in his attempt at readjustment, always prowling at the edges of his mind. He hasn’t seen him sense.
He focus falters from it sometimes. In the quiet moments of his days, he is always thinking back to him. Wondering if he should try to reach out again or if their hope of keeping up a friendship had been wishful thinking under a starless sky. So when Cloud arrives without preamble, lugging in a suitcase and standing there in his office like something summoned from his own mind, Sephiroth stares for a long moment.
And then remembers himself.]
No. No, I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting you.
[He stands and moves towards him, towards the suitcase, too, planted there on the floor.]
no subject
He focus falters from it sometimes. In the quiet moments of his days, he is always thinking back to him. Wondering if he should try to reach out again or if their hope of keeping up a friendship had been wishful thinking under a starless sky. So when Cloud arrives without preamble, lugging in a suitcase and standing there in his office like something summoned from his own mind, Sephiroth stares for a long moment.
And then remembers himself.]
No. No, I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting you.
[He stands and moves towards him, towards the suitcase, too, planted there on the floor.]
Are these...?
[His things?]