[Sephiroth's brow creases faintly as he looks at her, and then he looks down at her hand for a moment as if at a loss with what to do with it. But then memory stirs, and he reaches out his own to clasp hers.] Why would I lie? If I hadn't wanted to meet you, I could have refused.
[Already, he's giving the impression of being...slightly off. Not in a bad way, but in the way someone reciting words in a language they don't actually understand might be off.]
no subject
[Already, he's giving the impression of being...slightly off. Not in a bad way, but in the way someone reciting words in a language they don't actually understand might be off.]