For a lark, Naminé tells Zexion of her fantasies. There's freedom, there's friendship, there's…
There simply are fantasies woven behind her eyes, lying deep in dream-sky blue and perishing before they can flow in her words.
Zexion knows of them though, or at least makes enough educated guesses at their existence. In answer, he raises a small illusion, of some adequate location and glances at her.
As far as he sees, she seems pleased. Confused, because why would he do this- and really, he is asking the same thing.
But for now, he loses himself in the fantasy of feeling something and just catching the echoes of the witch-girl's dreams.