Naminé has only ever seen moonlight in an almost-natural state- dim, ominous, from a heart-shaped moon alone in a gaping wound of a sky.
She has seen moonlight shiver through long blue-gray bangs, has seen it dart out at Zexion's command to be replaced by a counterfeit sunlight that Naminé can't say she quite likes.
She focuses on the snippets of freedom, of a substitute to her planted memories and calmly traces the spell back to his hands and the sliver of moonlight caught in the metal beads on his chest.
Then the illusion will end and Naminé will be quietly asked out of his almost-embrace and back into the glare of the moon.