[—he echoes, nostalgia wrapping itself into his thoughts. Sephiroth bends down slightly to unzip the suitcase just enough, a lock of silver hair sliding over his shoulder. He dips his hand in and pulls out the first thing his fingers touch — an old book. Fiction. The rare crime thriller in his repertoire of mostly military history and political intrigue. He turns it over in his hands.]
I remember this. I...
[The words fall off his lips when he lifts his eyes to look at Cloud, and suddenly it becomes all too obvious how tired he looks, slumped into his office sofa and under the fluorescent light fixtures.]
...What is it?
[Ever the observant one. Is being here already too much, he wonders? Maybe he’s being foolish, even entertaining this moment between them.]
no subject
[—he echoes, nostalgia wrapping itself into his thoughts. Sephiroth bends down slightly to unzip the suitcase just enough, a lock of silver hair sliding over his shoulder. He dips his hand in and pulls out the first thing his fingers touch — an old book. Fiction. The rare crime thriller in his repertoire of mostly military history and political intrigue. He turns it over in his hands.]
I remember this. I...
[The words fall off his lips when he lifts his eyes to look at Cloud, and suddenly it becomes all too obvious how tired he looks, slumped into his office sofa and under the fluorescent light fixtures.]
...What is it?
[Ever the observant one. Is being here already too much, he wonders? Maybe he’s being foolish, even entertaining this moment between them.]