[For Sephiroth, it feels like a piece slotting itself back into place, a rejoining of something that he did not know he had been bereft of. Complete, better, reeling in the connection and the growing pit of pleasure filling his lungs. Where Cloud becomes unmoored, Sephiroth is anchored; where the other is jarred weak by the sync, he is rejuvenated. Muscles light with feverish energy, focus turned into a million needle points. Siphoning, intermingling—
Jostled free from this thrall when hands grasp at the band crossing his chest, pulling him into reality while Cloud satellites around it.
It is instinct that has Sephiroth grabbing ahold of his shoulders to steady him; but it’s the utterance of that name which nearly has him dropping him as though he were hot iron.]
How do you—
[—know that name?
Suddenly his focus is a blade, determined to cut through Cloud’s haze.]
no subject
Jostled free from this thrall when hands grasp at the band crossing his chest, pulling him into reality while Cloud satellites around it.
It is instinct that has Sephiroth grabbing ahold of his shoulders to steady him; but it’s the utterance of that name which nearly has him dropping him as though he were hot iron.]
How do you—
[—know that name?
Suddenly his focus is a blade, determined to cut through Cloud’s haze.]
Cloud.