Everything happened too quickly for his mind to comprehend, and in the haze of whatever it was he was feeling, he could vaguely remember some weird promise about forgiveness, whatever that was.
It was quickly forgotten when there was that sharp pain in his shoulder, that smirk with hidden desire flashing down on him. He had his hand on the blade, and then suddenly it wasn't there anymore, and was replaced with something just as solid, but with so much more warmth to it, easing him slowly away from the wall and towards the ground beneath their feet.
It was that weird sensation again, of letting go and giving into desires and needs that were stored away years ago to help him overcome the pain and suffering he had put himself through. He realized that everything he had ever felt before he had to pick up that sword, grow up and save the world, came flooding back, the cause of his haze, his dizziness, that total lack of feeling but able to feel everything.
He felt young again, with those fingers gently caressing his cheek, the hand supporting his thigh, a reality he had never thought would come true. He lifted a glowing blue gaze to peer upwards at the angel above him, blessed with such beautiful features, hair spun of the finest silver that could be only be gotten from heaven, and the purest emeralds for eyes. He smiled then, letting eyes slip shut and his head falling back as a pair of lips gently licked away the welling blood at the wound on his shoulder, one he had forgotten about when admiring the angel.
His angel. "... Sephiroth."
His arm slid around the older man's waist, helping to support himself against Sephiroth, as well as to feel the man's body - so strong compared to him - against his own. This was so easy, and so wonderful; forgiveness was too difficult. No one could forgive him, not for what atrocities he had committed, the things he couldn't do, and the people he had failed.
Letting go was the easy route, and perhaps cowardly of him, but he would never make it on his own, and as always in life, he needed that helping hand. He wasn't strong enough, would never be strong enough, to acheive a level of self-satisfaction, and to be forgiven. Forgiveness was not meant to be his. He was not meant to be wanted.
But it was awfully comforting to know that at least Sephiroth needed him.