Jeez. Just how does a sourpuss like Cloud attract such cheery people? Angeal has got to wonder, considering that besotted little look in this guy's eyes as he stares off to where Cloud disappeared, but he can't say it's a bad thing. A stubborn little hard ass like Cloud needs someone sweet like this. Help get his shit together. Not let him sink into his own fucked up little head.

"Well, he doesn't want to be baking either, but I've got him at it anyway," Angeal tells him, grinning right back. Honestly, he's all prepared to get into talking about the blond behind his back - and in front of his face if he makes a bad choice in timing.

Except... Then comes the part about recognition. And Angeal pauses in the middle of pushing forward the plate.

Hm. So. "Didn't think I'd get anyone who recognizes me around here," he says, slow and careful. It doesn't... look like the sort of expression of someone who knows him particularly well, no emotional impact to it - which is what he would expect if they were familiar with some alternate version of him in the same way that he knows another Rosie. And he knows for a fact that he never knew this man in person back in his homeworld.

And if he doesn't know him now, then he never knew him. Angeal is dead, after all. Technically. In at least one reality.

So. "Can I ask how you know me?"