Cloud has endured a whole lot in isolation since arriving to this world. His painful dragon changes, adapting to a new lifestyle, finding work, living day to day- all done in solitude that felt jarring after traveling with people (Who he now fully realizes are important friends) for a long time. Any solace his dragon soul could have offered to this point, stifled, as Cloud actively tried to lock him away in fear of his voice being just another intruder in a fractured mind.
Perhaps it is loneliness and a desperate need for human closeness in any capacity that, despite everything, keeps him from recoiling from the gentle reassurance that Sephiroth offers. Perhaps instead it is because Cloud is so immersed in those new, desolate memories, that he cannot fully see what is happening in the present reality. Perhaps...Hidden hopes that alighted in the man since the talk in the chicken pen overpower the likely trauma response. It could even be all of the above, probably is.
Whatever the reason, Cloud flinches from the touch to his arms, but does not react violently. Instead, he whimpers again, shaking his head. He's so stiflingly vulnerable like this, even moreso as his glazed-over eyes turn up to look directly through Sephiroth. The touch works as an anchor, and through the haze Cloud tries to mentally reach for it. A fraction of the immense tension leaves his body.
I know. You're all right now.
That's the voice of his hero. Of his-
It is gentle, and saying something so different than the voice that drives him to rage or madness. Or the frigid tones edged with mania of the man who destroyed his home and his life. The tears begin to fall freely. Cloud speaks with a tone that is so very, very small. Frightened. Lost. The voice of a bright young cadet whose hopes and dreams were shattered to pieces.
"It's real. It was all real. Four years, four whole years, it hurts- who was I? Who am I???"
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Perhaps it is loneliness and a desperate need for human closeness in any capacity that, despite everything, keeps him from recoiling from the gentle reassurance that Sephiroth offers. Perhaps instead it is because Cloud is so immersed in those new, desolate memories, that he cannot fully see what is happening in the present reality. Perhaps...Hidden hopes that alighted in the man since the talk in the chicken pen overpower the likely trauma response. It could even be all of the above, probably is.
Whatever the reason, Cloud flinches from the touch to his arms, but does not react violently. Instead, he whimpers again, shaking his head. He's so stiflingly vulnerable like this, even moreso as his glazed-over eyes turn up to look directly through Sephiroth. The touch works as an anchor, and through the haze Cloud tries to mentally reach for it. A fraction of the immense tension leaves his body.
I know. You're all right now.
That's the voice of his hero. Of his-
It is gentle, and saying something so different than the voice that drives him to rage or madness. Or the frigid tones edged with mania of the man who destroyed his home and his life. The tears begin to fall freely. Cloud speaks with a tone that is so very, very small. Frightened. Lost. The voice of a bright young cadet whose hopes and dreams were shattered to pieces.
"It's real. It was all real. Four years, four whole years, it hurts- who was I? Who am I???"